Category Archives: Sexuality

Your Cheating Heart: Infidelity Is a State of Mind

Dude, you’ve got a LOT to learn.

It’s a pleasantly warm and bright Sunday afternoon.  On one of the first real days of spring, the squirrels are playfully scampering around the path to your boyfriend Kevin’s apartment, and there’s more than a touch of excitement running through you, too.  You’re about to pay your man a surprise visit to celebrate this gorgeous day.

As you thrust the key into the lock, the butterflies do that little dance in your tummy.  Elated smile.  Walking in, those same butterflies rapidly morph into 50 pound stones.  Pained grimace.  You find yourself open-mouthed, staring at Lucinda (the only female friend of his that you never worried about) in a bright red apron, four-inch heels, what looks to be MAC Lady Danger lipstick, and nothing else, bent over the stove with Kevin behind her.  You do NOT like the smell of what they’re cooking.

In fact, it’s safe to say that you’ve probably lost your appetite for the entire week.  But should you lose your boyfriend, too?  Probably not, and there are two good reasons why.

First off, in all likelihood his cheating had nothing to do with you.  Yes, he broke a promise and probably your heart, right along with it.  For that, he’s as wrong as two left shoes.  But there’s a really good chance that his feelings for you are still just as strong as ever…it’s just that Lucinda’s ass looks like it’s pregnant with twins.  His embrace of her body is not a rejection of your love.  Dude just got caught up in the bootyliciousness, and I’d bet good money that if you give him a choice, he’ll choose you.  If he doesn’t, then that means that you didn’t have his heart in the first place.

The second, more important reason why you might wanna reconsider closing the door on Mr. Lova-Lova is the fact that you ain’t no angel yourself.  Please, don’t look all shocked.  Yeah, you may not have physically done anything with your colleague Jamal, but you damn near got carpal tunnel rub-a-dub-dubbing to mental images of him in the shower.  Plus, on more than a couple of occasions you even used him as a tool to push you toward the “little death” on those nights when Kevin just wasn’t killing you hard or fast enough.  Oh, and since y’all work together, you go to lunch with Jamal at least twice a week, and when he can’t make it…your day just isn’t the same.

In my book, that makes you just as guilty as Kevin, if not more.

Yes.  Kevin was definitely burying his bone in somebody else’s backyard.  But you were having a whole ‘nother relationship with another man, complete with full on muthaphuckin’ emotional attachment!  Where I come from, any real relationship is built on emotional bonds, not physical ones, so I’d say you and Jamal were going steady…even if it was only in your mind.  I mean, your mind is the most important sex organ after all, and we’ve known this for millennia.  The Bible says that “whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.”  I may not believe the theology, but I’ll be damned (hopefully not) if this ain’t one of the Good Book’s many nuggets of wisdom.

Where the scriptures get it wrong is on the moral implications of said burning yearning: lust is a perfectly natural, amoral emotion, not a sin.  You couldn’t stop yourself from lusting any more than you could stop poor white folks in Texas from voting against their interests.  But, what you can do is acknowledge that those desires abide within both you and your partner.  Don’t try to live in the illusion that no one else exists, ‘cause that will only lead to an unhealthy relationship with dangerously repressed feelings bubbling just beneath the surface.  Science has my back on this, people.  Apparently, being forced to block out other options actually ends up weakening a person’s resolve to stay committed, and who wants that?

So breathe for a second, little one.  Collect yourself.  Slowly walk over to the kitchen…and disrobe.  On top of being the only girl-friend that you never suspected, you always thought Lucinda was sexy as hell.

Hey, it’s a beautiful day.  Time to put a little work into your relationship!

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Filed under Philosophy, Relationships, Sexuality

I Wonder If I Take You Home

OMG. You might as well wear an arrow pointing to your crotch.

You just broke up with your boyfriend two months ago.  It’s Friday night, and none of your people want to go out ‘cause they’re either too exhausted from the work week, or they’re with their significant other doing things that lovers do.  This leaves you bored and lonely, so you decide to roll out solo to the neighborhood night spot.  The live band is rockin’ it, the drinks are cheap, and before you know it, you’re feeling as nice as a Care Bear on ecstasy.

Then you see this tall, handsome cat with great skin and a chiseled frame roll up to the bar.  He sees you checking him out, so he smiles.  Before long, you and Lorenzo are on the dance floor doing the Lambada to a dancehall version of “Milkshake”.  Your oven is hotter than Grandma Patty’s on Thanksgiving afternoon.  Like a true predator, Lorenzo can sense that this is the moment to make that move: he asks if you wanna take the party to his spot just two blocks away.

Your first thought is to say, “Hell yes,” but you vacillate for at least a minute.  I mean, what would he think about you?  What if he’s some kinda psycho?  Crap!  Did you remember to wax?  But Lorenzo, the liquor, and your suppressed libido keep whispering sweet nothings in your ear.  Before you know it, you’re off…and so are your jeans.  The next morning, engaged in The Walk of Shame, you can’t help but ask yourself, “Am I a slut?”

Instead of just jumping into the answer, let’s take a look at a checklist designed to ensure that you always know what to do when you hear the call of the wild.

1. Are you sober, or at least in majority control of your motor functions? If the answer is no, then please, don’t do it.  Any stand-up guy is turned off by girls who are fall-down drunk.  Seriously, who wants to get close to somebody that might go all Mt. St. Helens with her stomach contents at any time?  If the dude observes your state and still wants to bed you, he’s at least ethically challenged and maybe even mentally disturbed…which is a bad thing, for y’all taking notes.  [Exception:  If dude is shit-faced too, then feel free to stumble your alcoholic ass on down the road to perdition!]

2. Do you really need it? If you always “need” it, then I advise you to seek psychological counseling.  Or a dildo.  Or both.  This is about those occasions when it’s just been forever and you’re going to literally re-virginate if not tended to quickly.  In other words, it’s a smergency – a sex emergency.

3. Does it feel like destiny? You and this guy have been talking, dancing, and laughing the night away.  He’s wonderful, he thinks you’re fantastic, and you’ve never felt this uncanny need to be one with anybody so quickly before.  It just feels right.  Guess what?  It is!  Go for it with the knowledge that you’re following the will of the universe.  20 years later when you’re sitting in your gazebo at your summer home at the Vineyard, chillin’ with Mr. Right, you’ll thank your horny, twenty-to-thirty-something self for making up that BS.

So ladies, the next time shit gets thick with no time to think, go ‘head and get busy off of basic instinct!  Ask yourself those three simple questions and you can’t go wrong.

And oh yeah, I almost forgot.  You are DEFINITELY a slut for getting with old boy that Friday night.  I mean, c’mon, you just met him!  Your momma would be ashamed!

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Filed under Sexuality, Social Etiquette

Soft, Wet and Confused: Your Girlfriend Is Bisexual

This is SUCH a better way to practice for our lip-reading class, Becky!

So, I like women.

I like the fact that they tend to have longer hair than do I, which they often style in interesting and attractive ways.  I enjoy the fact that they often smell nice – kind of like a human fruit smoothie.  I think it’s awesome that they can giggle innocently one minute and then in the next, moan hard like a field hand singing Negro spirituals.  And of course, I also celebrate that they have mounds of sumptuous, inviting fat in places that would be…unsightly…on me.

Now, I know that there are plenty of ladies who openly like women just as much as I do.  These women are called lesbians and bisexuals, and yes, they’re pretty cool.  The thing is, I’m beginning to wonder whether those labels actually mean any damn thing when it comes to the fairer sex.  More and more,  it seems to me that a not-so-silent majority of women are just waiting for an excuse to whip out the organic vacuum cleaner for those um…hard to reach places.

You know I’m not making this crap up.  Time after time, I’ve had conversations about sexual histories with female friends and friends-plus, and I gotta say that at least like 30% of them have either savored the decadent taste of cuchifritos or served that shit up on a platter themselves, at least once.  That percentage climbs to like 60% if we talk about heavy petting (what the hell is light petting by the way, and why would you ever want to do that?) and 75% if we lower the threshold to good old lip-lockin’.  I bet it could reach as high as 90% if we asked whether or not they’ve had recurring lesbian fantasies/desires.

So what gives?  When asked, lots of my friends have provided a stock response.  “The female form is just inherently more beautiful than the male form.  It’s no wonder I find girls attractive.”  Right.  I hear you loud and clear and I’m down to start the “Breasts: Not Just for Babies” campaign whenever you are.

Check this though.  George Clooney is a really handsome dude.  And so damn suave.  But I ain’t never, neva-eva, neva-eva thought about cuppin’ his Irish-American buttocks or handlin’ his twig and berries.  I don’t care if he IS a friend of the blacks.

This flirtation with lesbianism has got to be about more than a mere appreciation of women’s curves.  In fact, I’d argue that two complementary forces are at work, one positive and one negative.

On the positive side, women simply don’t have to contend with the pressure to conform to the same rigid sexual mores that men do.  From an early age, doing anything that looks like it might be considered gay is beat out of you, verbally if not physically.  This is despite the fact that scientists like Alfred Kinsey have tried to teach us that homosexual experimentation is a vital part of growing up.  Meanwhile, girls are allowed to sleep in the same bed, hold hands in public and just generally be all up in each other’s space in a way that guys would be laughed out of recess for.  The line of intimacy between them is just never as clearly defined, and that’s gotta be beneficial to emotional development.  It no doubt has some dope implications beyond sexual interactions, too.

Unfortunately, men have found a way to subvert and exploit what could be a completely wonderful thing.  For many of us, lesbians and bisexual women are less like individual human beings and more like sex toys that talk.  (As far as I know, even those life-size latex joints can’t speak yet…and yes, I’ve looked.)  Why dominate one female when you can dominate two and then watch them dominate each other?  And it appears this is an inclination that plenty of women are more than happy to indulge.  Thus, we end up with the boringly choreographed, juvenile scenes in “Girls Gone Wild,” our fascination with Nikki Minaj’s sexual inclinations and her obfuscations thereof, and bone straight women engaging in random public lestrianics.  (Yes, my children, go forth and use “lestrianics” with my blessing.)

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m definitely not saying that I somehow object to those ladies who decide to take a stroll down the Punani Path, even if it’s just for fun.  I’m just wondering what’s really motivating all of this steamy, girl-on-girl action.  If it’s a natural response to inherent or learned comfort with same-sex attraction, then great.  It should be encouraged, and I should be invited.  On the other hand, if you’re at a bar and you’re just doing it ’cause you think I think it’s hot, then that’s just sad.  Plus, it probably means that your performance isn’t all that convincing.  Get back in there and do it again, this time with FEEEELING!

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Filed under Sexuality, Social Issues