Posted by Lex Konrad in Meta | Apr 17, 2008
After years of helping women get in touch with their orgasms, my lovely wife is now blogging about bisexuality, non-monogamy, sex and toys over at the Bisexual Girls Club, her very own pleasure positive organization for bi women. Leslie often has a different take on things than I do, so those of you who are curious about how we navigate our open relationship should find plenty to compare and contrast. Please do drop “bi” (I know… I’m terrible) and say hello.
Posted by Lex Konrad in Sex | Apr 12, 2008
I’m too blunt to be the seductive one. I distract myself too easily. I’m too distant. As much as I like the idea of passion, as much as I admire, and envy, the overwhelming attractions that drive other people mad, I cannot work myself into a froth over someone else. Leslie, on the other hand, never fails to be passion and warmth and light.
It’s why we complement one another so well. I am the stunt-cock, the reinforcements women call in when they need a man who won’t take center stage. Leslie is the real draw: the girls cannot help themselves around her.
I am okay with this.
When Leslie calls, telling me to hurry it along, I know what is expected of me. Leslie’s date, a married woman who drove all the way in from Westchester, greets me with a smile that lets me know I’ve been evaluated for fuckability and have not been found wanting.
This is their second outing. The married girl is biracial and pretty and cinnamon-skinned. Her husband leaves her for weeks at a time.
It took me a long time to come around on the subject of married women — but don’t mistake me for a man of great principles. A married woman had a crush on me once; her husband, an ex-Marine, had a gun. I decided my time was better invested elsewhere.
They seem sweeter though, the married girls do. And they aren’t so shy about sex. For the married person the occasional romp in the nude isn’t as fraught with expectations. The scales of desire even out.
But this married suburbanite still understands the game. After she drives us home, when I’m down the street picking up mixers, she tells Leslie: “I don’t know if I’m comfortable doing anything with Lex.”
I know what’s expected of me. I am patient. I wait for her to ask. When I enter her she arches her back and grips the sheets. She doesn’t last long. Leslie and I fuck while the married girl plays with us both. In a fit of inspiration she reaches between my legs, uncouples me from Les and wraps her full lips around me.
She’s watching while I penetrate Leslie from behind. When I cannot hold out any longer I let the married girl finish me with her mouth, the brown-eyed stranger jerking me onto her playfully extended tongue. Her face is messy with pearlescent jizz. The girls kiss.
The women play and cuddle, oblivious to me now. I smile at them, my cock still twitching. Content that I’ve fulfilled my role in this sexual drama, I stroll into the kitchen and fix myself another drink.
Posted by Lex Konrad in Dispatches | Apr 10, 2008
There’s an old saying in Tennessee — I know it’s in Texas, probably in Tennessee — that says, fool me once, shame on — shame on you. Fool me — you can’t get fooled again.
-King George
Conventional wisdom tells us it is unwise to discuss politics on a date, but then again conventional wisdom elevated a dunce to the White House, so perhaps the concept is overrated.
My date (well, technically Leslie’s date), a tall, leggy surfer-girl with a taut, athletic frame, charmed me with her wit, each of her punchlines punctuated by a wry smile. She liked to tell dirty jokes. She didn’t take any shit.
And yet just when I began to daydream about offering her our spare bedroom she shattered my reverie with an offhand remark about the Iraq war. At the time, our Middle Eastern misadventure was but a gleam in every Neocon’s eye. It was, however, already a touchy subject for me.
“Excuse me,” I responded, hoping against hope that I may have simply misunderstood, “did you really just say you support this… folly in Iraq?”
She nodded, flashing me that wry smile again. A long argument ensued, neither of us gaining or giving ground.
“The pendulum swings both ways my dear,” I told her after we had exhausted our talking points. “This war — and you people will probably get your way — this war is going to be your undoing.”
Her knee bumped against mine. “I won’t hold it against you for being completely wrong if you don’t hold it against me for being completely right.”
Two weeks later she showed up at my birthday party wearing a form-fitting dress. When she settled next to me she laid a hand upon my inner thigh. She was such a sweet girl in all the ways that mattered. How could I possibly regret waking up next to her in the morning?
We never did discuss politics again. It was probably for the best. In our little cold war of words, we had reached a sexy detente.
Posted by Lex Konrad in Sexy Parties | Jan 30, 2008
As a Boston sports fan, I’m trying my damndest not to sound completely obnoxious now that the city is on the cusp of taking titles in all three of the big American sports, so I’ll leave it at a simple “Ohmagawd go Pats!” I can’t think of any better way to gear up for Sunday’s bone-crunching matchup than by indulging in another kind of full-contact sport.
Chemistry: Score! ~ Saturday, February 2nd from 10pm to 4am ~ $100 per couple ~ Invitation Only: See chemistry-nyc.com for more information
Posted by Lex Konrad in Advice | Nov 16, 2007
After reading the responses to my last post it occurred to me that speaking in koans all the time — while fun for me — is less than informative for my readership. It’s also apparent people are suffering from frustrations, misconceptions and frustrated misconceptions.
Girl, for example, has several bones to pick with the men of London:
Please could you print out this post, copy it onto, I dunno, 3 million billboard-sized posters, and plaster them all over the walls of my city, so that the men here grasp just what it means to be sexually liberated – and then that might finally stop all their bullshit, lying and cheating.
‘Compassion’ worries about measuring up in the sack:
For “Dude”, if he doesn’t actually believe he’s better than average in the sack (this blog sets the bar reasonably high, though maybe not from your perspective) and his sexual performance is important to his sense of identity it’s easier to imagine why the idea of sharing his girl with another man might be uncomfortable.
Echoing Girl’s comment, long-time reader Charlie believes there aren’t any men out there who are good enough for his lovers:
[M]y problem has always been the deep conviction that NO man is good enough for my girls, so I have always been very hesitant to sign off on the hunting license.
And in the most poignant of the comments, AJ finds it unlikely that anyone can make a connection in this mad world:
Jealousy type stuff may be a problem for some people, but not most. The major problem lies with anyone finding anyone else attractive and the extremely bad odds of it working both ways. This is true of many of the couples and all of the single people I know.
I cannot say anyone is wrong for having these thoughts. I’ve been frustrated on more occasions than I care to think about. Like I told Bad Man a while back, I wasn’t born a Chick Whisperer. Seduction wasn’t built into my genetic code: I had to practice and learn just like other mere mortals. There’s a lot more that goes into making the sausage than what I share here.
But I’d like to do more than just tell dirty stories while my readers sit around the cathode-ray campfire blinking in disbelief. To this end, dear readers, if you have questions about how we do what we do — anything from meeting partners to setting boundaries to bedroom logistics — then go ahead and ask them here.
