What about a fine for him?

Okay, this story boils down to one thing: lack of respect for sex workers.

Let’s see, dude goes into a strip club, gets himself $100 worth of shimmy and shake dances. Of course, there is the potential that he got more in that booth, I’m not going to sugarcoat that. Regardless, services of some sort were rendered, and the agreed upon monetary transaction was not forthcoming.

He ran out without paying.

She smashed him with a beer bottle.

Now she’s going to jail for nine months.

I’m not going to defend her actions, but this jerk had it coming to him. This was a dine-and-dash of the meanest kind. He had no right to stiff her after she’d gotten him stiff. Even though private dances in strip clubs are legal, what was she to do? Call the police? That is what restaurant owners can do if they catch you trying to sneak away without paying. That’s what can happen to shoplifters. But I highly doubt strippers will get the same cordial treatment.

When I used to be a more frequent patron of the naked ballet, I found it embarrassing and disgusting the way a good number of the other visitors would treat the entertainers. They were rude, crude and grossly lewd. I know the whole spectacle is ribald, but you don’t need to be nasty about it. Guys would openly mock women if they didn’t like their bodies. They would hurl insults and degrade the dancers. It was awful and I didn’t and still don’t understand why it happens.

Oh wait, I do. Men don’t value strippers as people. Just objects. And that thought is revolting.

–

Huh, who knew? Seems the little bud of pleasure is actually a much bigger organ of orgasm! Though, why are we only learning about this now? Considering how much humans think about sex, you’d think we’d be studying it all the time. But oddly enough, we don’t. We don’t spend remotely enough time or resources on the act that is the origin of our existence.

Because of this, it really isn’t too surprising that it was only a couple years ago that researchers discovered that the clitoris is a much larger and more complex organ in female sexual pleasure. When excited, a woman’s clit engorges and wraps the vagina in a hug of pleasure. This can possibly put an end to the debate between clitoral/vaginal cums. It would seem they are all clitoral!

I do love the analogy in the article that the little glans, the tip of the clit we can see (and rub and lick and vibrate) on the outside is just like the tip of iceberg. However, unlike icebergs, the clit is nothing to fear! Instead, it is a harbinger of great things to come. Now that researchers have started to study female sexual organs a little more, we might finally learn more about how women are pleased sexually.

Hot clit off the starboard bow!

–

Most would agree that when it comes to sex straight men rarely get the short of end the stick. Or in this case, the short end because of their dick.

But how much do I love the fantastic Nikki Brown for pointing out that dudes aren’t “allowed” to experiment with other dudes. In our society, guys are expected to fuck women or, with a bit of expanded acceptance, other guys. That is all. Why, even on this fine site, there’s been debate back and forth as to whether a guy can go back to getting pussy once he’s gotten his dick wet in a dude’s mouth.

While there is certainly room for debate as to the societal motivation behind encouraging women to explore sexuality, there is no doubt that women have a greater degree of freedom when it comes to trying new things. Sure, guys encourage it for their own thrills, I won’t debate that. But if a woman was to reveal she has tried some lady loving but chooses to stay with men, she is not degraded and considered less. In contrast, there’s no chance a man can suck balls and not always be considered gay, in some respect.

So, I’m all behind Nikki and her words here. Everyone should be given the opportunity—without anyone questioning their sexuality—to try what they want to try. So many different flavours out there. Take a good slurp of them all!

–

And I’m going to leave you this month with some sexy eye candy! HOT HOT HOT!

Hi, I’m Ethan Sommers. I’m new around here at Met Another Frog. Ms. Blue invited me over because I have a confession:

I hate performers in the bedroom.

Don’t know what I mean? Here’s the nitty-gritty…

It was some years ago when I was with one particular lady-in-question. We were both in our early twenties and she hadn’t had a lot of partners. I was a bit more experienced and welcomed the opportunity to play teacher.

In one of our first forays in the bedroom, she decided to ride cowgirl over my rough and rugged plain. After she slowly lowered herself onto me, I closed my eyes and surrendered to the sensation. She quickened her pace, up and down, and then, like a Hawaiian dancer, twisted her hips from right to left, drawing me in and out of her as she did.

I remember thinking for someone so inexperienced, she seemed pretty crafty with the coitus.

She began moving her hips in a circular fashion, stirring herself with my erection, alternately speeding up and slowing down depending on her impulse in the moment. At first, it was enjoyable. I was content to let her play around as she was still discovering herself. Then I opened my eyes.

Her gaze was fixed to the left of the bed, on the mirror that made up the sliding door of her bedroom closet. She was watching herself, noticeably sucking her stomach in as she pinched the pink nipples of her perky breasts. Watching her as she moved, I realized she was so focused on how she looked that she didn’t seem to be enjoying herself. I had a theory why and a question to ask.

“Where’d you learn how to do this?”

She looked back at me, smiling. “Honestly? I saw it in a porno I watched last night. You like it?”

“Sure,” I said, trying to keep things positive. “How about you?”

“Oh, it’s nice.” She turned her head back to the mirror. While her attention was on me, she had relaxed a little. Now that she was conscious of her appearance again, she assumed the upright porn star pose once more, sucking in her stomach as she picked up the pace.

Did she look hot? Absolutely. If Heaven is a real place, then I hope the first sight I see beyond the Pearly Gates will be a woman riding me to climax. This lady, however, wasn’t even coming close. She was going through the motions of how she thought she should screw me, and that was a huge turn-off.

I’ve never had a problem with girls who want to watch themselves in the midst of a good fucking. It can add to the experience in so many ways that it’s worth a shot if you haven’t tried it already. The problem in this instance was that the lady-in-question wasn’t doing it for her enjoyment. She was putting on a show, performing for herself in the mirror; obviously more worried about how she looked than what she felt. I knew I’d have to nip this shit in the bud.

I chose my words carefully, got her to close her eyes and concentrate on how things felt as she moved above me. It didn’t take long for her to figure out what worked for her, and as the mess of the bed later indicated, it didn’t take long for me either.

Following a few more weeks of exploring, we tried the mirror again. Gone was the idea of looking sexy. Now it was about being sexy. Watching each other’s reflections pump and grind instead of spot-checking appearances made for quick and delightful work.

Sex done right is about connecting. If alone, with one’s self. If with others, then it’s about connecting with one ’s self and others. Whether you ride waves of pleasure to the port of orgasm or just for a lengthy cruise, it’s about knowing what you want to experience and exploring how to get there. By being more concerned with the performance rather than the sex, the lady-in-question was missing the point.

That’s the problem with learning about sex from porn, as so many do nowadays. Anyone with an iota of actual experience knows that on-camera fucking isn’t always the same as actual fucking. Porn is performers getting paid to look good in acrobatic poses meant to arouse the viewer enough to rub one out. You can learn some new positions and get turned on plenty, but not everything on-camera is going to work for you in the real world. As hot as it may look, no girl I’ve been with has ever enjoyed reverse cowgirl while suspended above me on all fours. I’ve been with a few good women that have tried, but it ended up not being worth the trouble because neither of us enjoyed it.

The moral of the story?

When the bedroom antics become a show, it’s more about the idea of sex than sex. One is good, but the other is much, much better.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out which.

Hey folks. Frankly, I can’t remember if this is my first time Goody Drawering since my tango with a Tenga egg back in August but regardless, here I am again providing a little information and perhaps a little entertainment. Now, I know I promised a series of male sex toy reviews but sometimes life gets in the way. Anyway, this installment of SFGD features a coming together of cultures, east meeting west, a co-mingling of the ancient and the modern, a mélange of tradition and technology. In other words, I’m reviewing the iKamasutra app for the iPhone.

Now, I just got an iPhone. Like, last week. Because I am nothing if not consistently focused on all things sexual I made finding sex related apps a priority. And because I believe it is my duty to (over) share parts of my sex life with the masses I decided a review of this app’s efficacy was in order. So I enlisted the assistance of my Tenga accomplice, formerly known as the handjobber, now known as the Kama Sutress, to aid me in this most important endeavour. And awaaaaaaay we go.

First things first, there are two versions of this app, a free one, which comes with 30 different positions, and an upgrade that will run you 99 cents. Well folks, Skye and Elizabeth have me on a tight leash around here so I settled for the au gratis version. Heck, I was pretty sure it would be sufficient, there are only so many hours I can spend f**king in a single day.

Anyway, the iKamaSutra divides sexual positions into the following nine categories:

1. 69

2. Butterfly

3. Cowgirl

4. Cunnilingus

5. Doggy Style

6. Exotic

7. Face to Face

8. Fellatio

9. Spooning

Each category in the free version features no fewer than two and as many as four positions. After a brief discussion, the Kama Sutress and I decided to “officially” try the following positions:

The Deck Chair - This was straight forward enough. The woman places her legs on her man’s shoulders while the man kneels in front of her. The man (I guess that’s me) leans against the woman’s legs and enters from a stimulating angle. This is supposed to offer a feeling of nearness and allows the man (again, me) to stimulate the woman with his hand. The verdict: Well, I had a good time. The Kama Sutress? She liked it but did let me know her hamstrings aren’t as flexible as her hips so this position was only viable for a limited time. We both recommend this one but the Kama Sutress asked me to inform the ladies that you’ll struggle if your flexibility is not up to snuff. Yoga, anyone? Oh, and don’t try this on a full stomach.

**I feel the need to give a shout out to my Jamaican massive. Deck chair? We would just call this a little “foot pon shoulda” and then call it a day.**

Missionary (Twisted): According to the app this one is “one small step from the missionary position, a giant leap for pleasure.” Now, I don’t know about this “giant leap” business but I think we all can agree this position is a winner. In this pose, the woman wraps her legs around her partner’s back and squeezes. Placing a pillow below the woman’s buttocks allows easy deep penetration, and allows the participants to focus on rocking movements instead of only penetration. Good for stimulation of the clitoris. The verdict: The Kama Sutress liked this one for all the above stated reasons and also because it made her “really, really feel me” and “feel really close.” Sounds kind of emo. Hmmm. As for me, this was all good.

Teaspoons: According to iKamasutra this is a more intimate form of doggy style. We all know what doggy style is right? Right? Anyway. Both partners kneel and the man enters from behind. The woman separates her legs so that he can easily enter and they each place their hands on the other’s hips. You can easily transition to and from the regular doggy style position. The verdict: I love a little woof woof as much as if not more than the next man and though I enjoyed this one it did seem like a little more work than it was worth. And the Kama Sutress? She liked it too but kept feeling like she was going to or wanted to fall and “got tired of hanging on”.

The Arch: The woman rests with her shoulders on the bed and enters a bridge position as the man kneels between her legs. This offers deep and intense penetration and great stimulation for the G-spot. Hands are free allowing for all types of grabbing, pinching, rubbing and gripping. The verdict: For me, m’eh, but it still gets a thumbs way up. Why? Because this is what the Kama Sutress had to say; “Oh no, that one felt gooooood. Real, real, good.” And if it’s good for her it’s bound to be good for me.

Now, all four of these positions are really just slight variations on sh** that is part of my (and I hope your) regular repertoire of moves and in fact I could say the same thing about many if not most of the 30 positions in the free version of the app. However, there are a few like the Brute (woman on back with legs raised against her chest and man facing away squatting over her lower parts) or the Amazon (man pulls his legs toward chest so that woman can squat and lean against his legs) that seem a little off the beaten path.

Final Verdict: For a free app this is an absolute winner. It is easy to use and has fun features that allow you to track what you’ve tried, select favourites and create a to-do list. You can also track your progress from “novice” to “master”. Oh, and the settings allow you to turn on or off the background music (sitar, what else?) provides hints for complicated positions and to set a password for your app so that mom doesn’t stumble upon your to do list while browsing through your iPhone. At the very least it will inject a little more play into your sex life. I may very well spend the 99 cents and get the upgrade.

On a related note, we’ve been talking a little about sex as performance this week. We’ve explored why many if not most of us approach sex as performance and the ways this can be limiting or negative. Now, I wasn’t going to speak on this issue at all actually but while preparing to write this piece I came across a link for a Kama Sutra feature in FHM magazine (see here). At the end of the intro the author states, “Quite simply, these videos can teach you how to be Ron Jeremy in the bedroom”.

One word: Ewwww.

Seriously, the world does not need more men trying (and failing) to be Ron Jeremy. Not everyone wants to be f*cked like a porn star.

Hey CoCo,

The problem I’m having is a little tame compared to the stuff you usually tackle. The thing is, I’m a little self-conscious in the bedroom and I always have to have the lights off during sex.  My boyfriend goes along with this but I know he watches porn so I can assume that he’d actually prefer to …you know… see stuff for real.  I don’t mind a little bit of undressing in the living room but once we’re down to our skivvies I move us along to the darkened bedchamber in a hurry. I used to think this was normal but I realize now that it probably isn’t.  Do you have any advice to help me get over this?

Lights Out

–

Hey Lights Out,

Not to worry! With all the nude and nearly nude bodies on display in the media we consume it’s easy to feel like you’re the last prude on earth. Nothing could be further from the truth. I’ve talked to many women who have a lights out policy just like you! That’s the good news. The bad news LO is that you are indeed a timid little flower and your unfortunate tendencies are limiting your sexual range. It’s time to take off those big girl panties and show the world – or, um, just your boyfriend – what you got.

Self-consciousness is a beast that we all struggle with everyday. The truth is that no one feels confident 100% of the time. Negative voices are like the ultimate backstabbing friend. We’re used to them so we still hang out, but they invariably leave us feeling shitty. Remember, negative thoughts are NOT your friends and they’re out to ruin your good time. Recognize that and don’t let them take over. It can be scary at first but, if you’re going to conquer brave new worlds, you’ve got to leave your excess baggage behind.

An example of the many benefits of sex with the lights on.

Take baby steps to begin. Start with a little mood lighting: try replacing the lights in your bedroom lamps with lower wattage or coloured bulbs. Candles are also a nice way to go, just be sure they’re nowhere near the bed. This kind of lighting flatters everyone and lets you ease into full exposure. You could even blindfold him in the beginning so that you can explore his body while you build up your own courage and arousal. When you’re ready to take the plunge, position yourself to best advantage and let him feast his eyes upon your womanly wonders. He will be embarrassingly grateful. Count on it. If this still feels like too much too fast then dress things up a little. Sexy lingerie that you actually want to show off could go a long way towards giving you a boost of confidence. You can even keep on your lacy bra and garter/stocking combo during the dirty, that way you feel wonderfully alluring and you get your money’s worth from the outfit.

Maybe you’re the type to over think things? Why not make a list of pros and cons and determine what the worst case scenario is? I’ll get you started…

Pros:

• No more blind fumbling
• Your sex life will improve
• You’ll experience more connectedness and intimacy with your BF
• You’ll learn to appreciate your body and the pleasure it can give you

Your boyfriend gets to… you know… see stuff in real life.

Cons:

• Lingerie and candles can get expensive
• It may take some getting used to.

There you go LO, a perfectly reasonable pros and cons list, and as you can see there are almost NO cons to having adequate lighting during sex. Take it from an expert, it’s the truth. There may be some initial awkwardness but that’s about it. Don’t fear your partner’s reaction LO, your BF will be the happiest little boy on earth. I guarantee it. Besides, if you thought he would point and laugh at you while you sobbed in naked mortification would you be dating him? I sincerely hope not. Anyways, ruling out spontaneous combustion, that really is the worst case scenario and it’s not going to happen. Don’t you feel better now?

LO, keeping the lights on during sex isn’t just about being able to see all the naughty bits. It’s about being able to appreciate and properly attend to them. It’s about trust and confidence and intimacy.  These things don’t come easy to anyone but they’re available to all of us if we believe ourselves worthy.

Don’t be so hard on yourself, you deserve to have great sex and you’re worthy of your partner’s admiration. Start slowly with the suggestions above and you’ll soon be walking around starkers in broad daylight, with a trunk full of sex toys and detailed map of where to stick them.

So, onward brave explorer. There is much to see and do!

Love CoCo

Okay, so my week of having access to amazingly fresh, super tasty and low calorie meals courtesy of The Fresh Diet folks is over. And I have to say, I’m really going to miss…

* Being able to pick foods from such a wide variety of menu options, catered specifically to my likes and dislikes.

* Opening my door first thing in the morning to find a little cooler bag of gourmet diet treats on the other side.

* Having my coworkers “oooh” and “ahhh” as they clamored around me to see what delectable, well balanced and highly nutritious gourmet meals I would pull out of my lunch bag each day

* The convenience of not having to do groceries, cook or wash dishes for a week!

But, the best part is…

Over the course of the last week I dropped pounds without even thinking about it – even though I haven’t been able to work out for a week due to spraining my ankle. While eating things like the cupcake pictured on the right.

True story.

All around it was a great experience. From the food right on through to their amazing customer service team. (Shout outs to Iris and Arley, two women with the patience of Job, who the powers that be at The Fresh Diet should do their best to hang on to. Just sayin’.)

And ladies, you’re in luck. If losing weight in 2012 is one of your goals you too can experience the convenience, great customer service and super extra delicious food offered up by The Fresh Diet, by taking advantage of their fantastic January promotion for single ladies. Yep, there’s still plenty of time for you to get in on the gourmet diet eats, because you can…

Start today, for just $29.99 per day, and get 3 days free with the purchase of a 31 day plan.

But wait, there’s more!

As an added bonus – The Fresh Diet will also give you a six day supply of Hint Premium Essence Water and a fitness DVD from Jessica Smith to help kick start your weight loss.

Ladies, now’s your chance to get FRESH, FREE and SEXY in 2012. Just use promo code singlejan3 when you email info@thefreshdiet.com (the best option for our Canadian peeps) or call 1.866.FRESH.50 (1.866.373.7450) to reach the good folks over at The Fresh Diet today!

It’s not uncommon for women to be expected to lick a little pussy to get the party started. The rest of the group gathers ‘round, watching the players lick, groan, jab, and grab at breasts. Right on cue one of the men starts rubbing on an ass.  Another fondles anything he can get his hands on. A woman not involved in the original act goes down on one of the men and—voila!—everyone in the room is getting a piece of the action.

Being part of a community of swingers (the “lifestyle”) as a single woman gives you power, a variety of playmates, and a few surprises.

For me, delving into this world is a natural progression. Being a dabbler with a nonstop libido, the thought of being encouraged to experiment with my sexuality with a group of people open to sharing partners seems like a great fit. I do like dressing up in sexy outfits for themed parties. I do look forward to dancing on a stripper pole in my panties. I do partake in group sex from time to time. The piece that stymies me is the pretty-much-mandatory-female bisexuality.

We’ve all performed in the bedroom. Whether it’s listening to the little voice in your head saying, “Here’s the best blowjob you’ve ever gotten, baby!” or the dreaded fake orgasm—women remove themselves from the moment and put on an act in the middle of the act. Even my most vanilla friends tell me they get performance anxiety when they are with a new lover. Am I doing this right? Will he think this is sexy? What about if he doesn’t like this? This low grade internal questioning—striving to improve—may even lead to some healthy experimentation. It’s harmless.

Moving outside of your comfort zone can also be a welcome twist allowing lovers to try on some fantasies for size. Giddy up! Community norms and expectations in the swinger lifestyle appear—on the surface anyway—to be completely malleable. Swingers embrace sexuality across the board, right? Not when it comes to bisexuality.

Girl on girl play is so common in the lifestyle that it is expected and encouraged. The elusive single female is so rare and revered that she is referred to as a “unicorn.”Couples are welcome to bring single women with them to parties as guests. At most private swinger clubs, if single men can get in at all they pay through the nose while the single women walk right through the door for next to nothing. Women don’t always outnumber the men, but in this environment that’s the game plan. Watching a group of women play together becomes the life of the party.

Bisexual men keep it under wraps. “I’m pretty sure my wife knows about the other women,” a friend confides in me. “It’s the fact that I like to be with men sometimes that would have her talking divorce in a heartbeat.” It is not uncommon for him to engage in sex with multiple women out in the open: however, he makes sure any bisexual play he partakes in is done privately: “It’s just not accepted.”

Of course, double standards exist in every community when it comes to dating, relationships, and sex.  Just as my bisexual male friend struggles with expectations placed on his sexuality, I—being a straight woman—struggle with being expected to perform bisexual sex acts. He’s not allowed to be open about who he is and I feel peer pressure to do things I don’t necessarily want to do.

I don’t expect mainstream society to get it right when it comes to accepting the spectrum of human sexuality. Mom and dad tell us that sex is to make babies. Schools adopt “abstinence-only” programs.  Girlfriends sneer if you leave the bar with a guy you just met. Men won’t date you if your “number” is too high. God forbid you should want to do something Jesus wouldn’t do!

The swinger community is naïve if they believe they are free from rigid codes of conduct. Members of the lifestyle may be more accepting of non-mainstream sex but the sex they do engage in is predictable.  Expecting women to perform for the group, to get the party started, places each of us into a well-defined box. Taboos within mainstream society are being broken, yes, but it’s pretty much the same old thing. It’s all an act.

If you’re at all like me, at this time of year you can’t help but reassess the state of your life. It’s as if the rolling in of a New Year flips a reset button in my brain and I start thinking about all the things I’d like to improve upon, learn or straight up get rid of over the 365 days and beyond.

Well, this year, among the many things on my reassessment list (as I told you before I’m not into making resolutions) is trimming my waist line, much like millions of people all over the world (and trust me, I realize that I’m not special).  And as luck would have it, I recently discovered a company that will help me do just that…

The Fresh Diet.

It’s an absolutely amazing gourmet diet delivery service that brings fresh, healthy, nutritionally balanced, and calorie controlled meals, right to your doorstep. Meals that you choose (from the four choices for each meal and six choices for two sides and two snacks they offer each day) based on your own dietary needs and taste. What’s more The Fresh Diet will create a menu for you with your food likes and dislikes and allow you to rollover days so you’ll never have food being delivered when you don’t need it. It’s like having your own personal chef (and what more could a busy single girl ask for)!

Since starting with TFD, each day I’ve indulged in sinfully delicious low-calorie food – three meals and two snacks (including the most delectable desserts) delivered fresh each day – without having to spend time or energy on…

• Carting groceries home from my local grocer
• Cooking
• Calorie counting
• Clean up

All as I lose weight (BONUS)! And lucky for you The Fresh Diet is offering single ladies a great deal for the month of January… Start today for $29.99 per day and get 3 days free with the purchase of a 31 day plan. And as a bonus – The Fresh Diet will give you a six day supply of Hint Premium Essence Water and a fitness DVD from Jessica Smith to help kick your weight loss plan up a notch. Now you have no excuse not to do all you can to tip the dating scales in your favour! So take advantage of this chance to get FRESH, FREE and SEXY in 2012. Visit The Fresh Diet to take advantage of this special offer or call 866-FRESH-50 (866-373-7450) and use Promo code:  singlejan3.

Hello folks, me again. Charlie graciously allowed me to take over his column this week (thank you sir!) as I’ve got a science based story that is linked to sex – albeit indirectly – that has been weighting heavy on my mind.

–

Now ladies, we all want to look our best, right? So, I’m sure that in addition to all you do to enhance your face, hair and skin, many of you probably do all you can to maintain your body’s sexy: including amping the look of your décolleté or more specifically your rack. Whether you’ve been blessed(?) with a epic boobs like me or two less ample, yet gravity defying raisinettes (as one of my good friends calls her very perky little tatas), at some point you’ve likely contemplated what your life would be like if you had bigger, smaller, rounder, firmer, perkier or ________ (insert any other descriptor that you don’t think applies to your girls here) breasts. And I’m sure that some of you might have even gone so far as to consider and/or have already undergone surgery to improve upon what God gave you, to boost your confidence, and of course garner more attention from would be suitors.

If that sounds at all like you and you aren’t currently in the know, then you’ll be very interested to find out that over the last month or so, there’s been renewed furor in the media – particularly in Europe – about a French company called Poly Implant Prothese (PIP). Here’s the deal…

Way back in March of 2010 it was discovered that the high profit margin chasin’ swine not so good people over at PIP, decided to take a pass on using medical grade silicone for the breast prosthetics they manufactured and instead use industrial grade (i.e. the type used in your average mattress) to make implants for breast augmentation and reconstructive surgeries. (Gotta love a company so clearly committed to profit before people, no? FML) What’s more, because PIP made implants are far more likely to rupture than those made higher grade silicone, anyone currently sporting those substandard bad boys faces a higher risk of developing serious health problems like…uhhm…you know…cancer.

And this is a global problem.

Over the last 12 years PIP sold upwards of 300 000 of its implants worldwide and they also manufactured similar products for at least one other company. So this rather distressing finding has caused a great deal of alarm for many women – and men*. (Rightly so, because that’s a whole lot of ‘breasteses’ potentially in harm’s way!). Still, although I am happy to report that PIP has long since gone belly up, with its 72 year old founder Jean-Claude Mas on the run from Interpol and the use of their implants banned, it seems that depending on where they live the assistance those impacted by this scandal receive from government officials ranges from “OMG. We’ve got to help these women fast!” to something akin to “M’eh.”

You see, as of late December in France, where PIP implants have been linked to the death of one woman from a rare form of cancer called anaplastic large cell lymphoma (ALCL), and are implicated in another eight cancer cases, the French government has urged the 30,000 women there with PIP implants to have them removed – and even offered to pay for the surgery. Meanwhile, in other countries, including the UK where the Medicines and Healthcare Products Regulatory Agency (MHRA) has stated there is “insufficient evidence to indicate any association with cancer” from PIP implants, government officials are opting to take the ‘wait and see’ approach, and merely suggesting that women with the implants visit their surgeons for checkups. (Oh yeah, that would soooo do it for me if I was carting around mattress grade silicone on my chest).

Folks, I’m telling you all this because from where I sit no amount of sexy, eye popping, breast perfection (as pictured above) is worth compromising your health or perhaps even dying for. So, as someone who has actually lost a family member due to an optional surgical procedure allow me to say this…

If you’re thinking about enhancing your natural assets via breast implant or any other kind of plastic cosmetic surgery for that matter,  please do your due diligence.

Do thorough research on the surgeon you plan to have work on you. Ask every question you can think of about the procedure and what products they use. And most importantly, find out what risks are involved, particularly as they pertain to your own health status and your family’s medical history. Then make your (very informed) decision.

Okay all, that’s a wrap. I’ve given my PSA for the day. Till next we meet…

Here’s to keeping every women’s lovely lady lumps safe and healthy,

SB

* Please note that although I am focusing on women here, the men out there should also take note. There have been recent reports that men who have undergone cosmetic surgery to fill out their pecs with PIP breast implants or who had testicular implants put in during reconstructive surgery after surviving testicular cancer are also at risk .

Happy 2012!

The news here in UK is full of rising costs of commuting (20% increase on tickets for London commuters) and “tough times ahead.” But there is also a more positive outlook for 2012 as this year my home town will play host to the Olympics too. As I set myself the task of resolutions, I’ve decided to take several recent and upcoming events into account.

Will be making good use of this sign from now til the Olympics this summer.

Firstly – I will be more Olympian in my sex life. Despite my current injury and the obvious setback it caused. I intend to train hard in the run up to the Olympics, and attempt to theme as many positions and naked interactions on events as I can.  I already have equestrian sorted out, aquatic is pretty obvious, but does anyone have any ideas for a sexual decathlon?

Secondly – Commute less. Since costs are rising, I will reduce my travel by the necessary 20% to remain cost neutral. In my thoughts this means encouraging booty calls to come to me, and to increase my hosting duties for one night stands, pick ups and orgies. Thereby not requiring any re-budgeting for necessaries such as lube, batteries and condoms.

Finally, I intend to reduce my cynicism. This one will be tough, but is certainly needed. I have been spending a lot more one-on-one time with a certain handyman who has been helping me out while I’m less than intact. He is good company both naked and dressed, and during several of our non-sexual exchanges I have found him challenging me on my viewpoint on several subjects and natural tendency to dismiss compliments or “feelings” out of hand.

Under normal circumstances I would have blocked his cell number and moved on by now; but my initial need for his support has become more of a wish for, so as a gesture I’m attempting a cynicism detox. Accepting statements at face value, and worryingly agreeing to some sort of mushy stuff by way of public displays of affection and even non-sexual encounters such as date night.

If I can keep these resolutions for more than a week – 2012 is going to be a big year!

This is it folks. Our last post for 2011. The next time we meet a new year, chock full of all kinds of amazing possibilities, will have begun. With that in mind, we’ve decided to share a submission by a guest writer that landed (very unexpectedly – THANK you, Julie) in our inbox a few days ago.

Tonight’s story is one that I’m sure many of you will relate to (perhaps not it’s finer points, but definitely it’s overall theme), as it highlights how hard facing the truth about what’s best for us can be – especially when you want what you want real bad.

Anyhoo, I won’t ramble on forever. So, on behalf of Sam, Elizabeth Rose and me…

Happy New Year everybody!

We’ll catch you all on the other side.

Have fun & play safe this Old Year’s Night,

SB

–

The Whole Package

by Julie Robinson

The first time Aaron tells me he loves me I have sex with him. The second time he tells me he loves me I beg him to stop—why can’t he continue loving me the morning after instead of denying it? The emboldened, heavy drinking Aaron and the distant, hung over Aaron have an equally strong magnetic pull.  Both need me in their own way.  There’s something very intoxicating about a lover who drinks with you.

This truism, tweeted my none other than the lovely Miss Taylor Cast a few months ago, is the first thing that came to mind as I read this story.

AARON: You know you will never be my girlfriend.

ME: I hate to break it to you—but I already am. We have a really nice bond, Aaron. Why keep fighting it?

AARON: I just don’t see you in that way, Julie. I could never take you around my friends. And my family?  Forget about it.

My poker buddy Aaron towers over me even when I’m in heels. He’s unemployed the spring we meet and I’m underemployed, so we show up at a local dive bar to play cards three nights a week. I like how he always brings me a beer without asking if I want one when he comes back to the table with his own fresh PBR. Night after night I listen intently to how much Aaron loves his ex-girlfriend, how hopeless he feels, how damaged he’s become, and how badly he wants her back. Instead of being put-off by these (and other) confessions, I convince myself that Aaron’s passion makes him a terrific prospect. Everything he says proves to me that this man loves boldly and that soon he will be directing that real, passionate love toward me.

When he tells me he’s ready for a girlfriend I’m skeptical and enthusiastic all at once. Then he asks me for a favor, and I agree to help my new lover write his online dating profile.

ME: (settling in at his computer) I definitely think you should mention something about having season tickets to the theater. Chicks love that.

AARON: I want to come off as passionate without being a pervert. We should mention that I’m a trained chef.

ME: Yes. I think your stint in the Caribbean is a good one too.

Writing—even something as short as an online profile—takes time if you want to get it right. Aaron grows bored as I tweak his profile. He leaves to buy a twelve pack of beer. We drink most of it and fall into bed together forgetting all about our mission for the evening.

When I awake early to put the finishing touches on Aaron’s profile, I don’t plan on learning his password. I don’t root around looking for it. I don’t have to. It’s just there in his open email smack dab in front of my face: bra**en1

The silly women he writes to regularly on Match.com don’t worry me in the slightest. He seems to enjoy flirting with one cowgirl about writing a screenplay together, but somehow her email responses get deleted before he reads them and she disappears. Another pretty little blonde receives an email from Aaron saying he’s met someone else. Funny how things like that happen.

My obsession begins to scare me, so I put limits on it. Instead of checking Aaron’s Match.com email account every time I think of it (it has a sneaky way of inching back into my head again, and again, and again), I promise myself only one time a day. I am very careful during our conversations not to mention the women I know about through my cyber spying. We are drinking buddies—shitfaced beyond standing—but I never slip. Not once. Instinctively, I know that if he ever finds out about my secret our affair, our friendship, our deepening bond, my drug of choice will be shot to hell.

AARON: Hey! I think I may have met someone. Thanks again for helping me with my online profile. It made all of the difference.

ME: Really? How did that happen?

AARON: I met her on Match. She’s really exotic and sexy. I can’t wait for you to meet her. I think you’ll really like her.

ME: (trying to ignore his lack of reception as I lean in for a kiss) I’m sure I will.

Racking my brain, I cannot figure out which one she is. Exotic? Sexy? They all seem like bimbos to me. I’m torn between stumbling back to my apartment so I can fall into Aaron’s arms and telling him to head on home alone so I can sort through his emails and figure out who this woman is. How did I miss this?

Aaron begins to fade away from my life as he spends more and more time with Exotic Girl, and the cloudy fuzz in my mind starts to clear. I go get professional help. My therapist tells me the same things my friends have for months, and it’s a relief that I can finally begin to listen. Why do I want to be with a man who only loves me when he’s drunk? Can I truly be happy with a man who is actively pursuing another woman while using me for sex? What do I really want to put my energy into?

Six months after Aaron moves on I invite him to join me for a game of poker at our old haunt. Surprisingly, he accepts.The room has a festive beehive hum, the PBR is plentiful and cold, and our sexual chemistry takes hold like a wrench pulling us closer and closer to one another. We both get knocked out of the poker game quickly so we can move to the patio and flirt shamelessly.

AARON: (putting his hand on my thigh) It is great seeing you again. I’ve missed you. You look great.

ME: Mmmm. So do you. It’s so much fun hanging out with you again.

AARON: I can’t wait to go home with you tonight. Get naked with you. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

ME: (hesitating) I don’t think that’s going to happen, Aaron. . .

AARON: I know you want to. I know you can’t wait to rip off my clothes and get dirty with me. Like old times.

ME: I don’t want that—

AARON: (cutting me off) Yes, you do. . .

ME: No. I want the whole package.

I want the bow, the wrapping paper, and an introduction to your parents. I want the cherry on top. I want to be the woman you think about when you’re not really thinking about anything in particular. I want to be the woman on your arm who you are proud of introducing to your buddies and their wives. I want to wake up with you and not have an aching head. I want you to be the man you never will be. I want to be the woman of my dreams.