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The Best Sex Takeaways From 2017

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By Leigh Weingus

In 2017, the trends surrounding sex were focused on having an open mind. What does a “normal” sex life look like? And can we redefine virginity for ourselves? There was also a decent amount of science surrounding gender equality in the bedroom (yes, we are talking about the complex nature of the female orgasm here).

While there was more than enough sex advice to go around this year, here are the most valuable bits from 2017.

Thanks to an uptick in social media use and a decrease in face-to-face interactions, new research finds that teenagers are now having sex later than ever. As a result, more people than ever are dealing with anxiety surrounding “late-in-life virginity.” And if you ask sex and relationship experts about it, they’ll tell you “virginity” as a concept is outdated.

“We really must speak more broadly about sex as a whole range of intimate possibilities, not just penetrative sex,” says Debra Campbell, couples therapist and author of Lovelands. “The idea of being a ‘virgin’ is really a bit outdated. It’s something that used to be important for the same socio-economic and religious reasons as marriage, but times have changed.”

How much sex should you actually be having? Studies show that having sex once a week is the “magic” number if you want to get all the benefits (overall well-being and relationship satisfaction), but if the real women we polled are any indication, “normal” doesn’t actually exist.

“Usually the frequency with which we do it comes in ‘spells,'” said one 29-year-old woman. “We’ll do it a bunch for a few weeks and then not as much for a few weeks. I’d say it’s changed since we first started dating. Truthfully, it took a while to actually get to the sex part, so we’d get more creative with what we did. That was really fun, actually. Now that we’re married, we try to find new ways to be adventurous.”

You can sleep in a separate bedroom from your partner—or have different sleep schedules—and still have a great relationship and sex life. Because let’s face it: There’s no bigger turnoff than losing a night of sleep because your partner was snoring or making a lot of noise when they came into your bedroom at 2 a.m.

“This is a fascinating dilemma because the research on sleep and couples clearly shows that we think we sleep better when we’re with our partner, but we actually sleep better when we sleep alone,” says David Niven, Ph.D. and author of 100 Simple Secrets of Great Relationships. “So there’s a very natural tension between the person who feels deprived when their partner stays up four hours later and the person who feels deprived when they are expected to come to bed four hours before they feel ready.”

The female orgasm has long been a mystery, and for years scientists didn’t care to spend time or resources trying to understand it. But the tides have changed in 2017, and a study on over 1,000 women between the ages of 18 and 94 shed some interesting light on what works and what doesn’t.

We learned a lot from that study, but here are some highlights: When it comes to manual and oral sex, about 64 percent of women said they enjoy an up-and-down motion on the vulva, and 52 percent also enjoyed circular movements. Just under a third of women said they liked “side-to-side movements.”

As for the clitoris, three-fourths of women were big fans of a circling motion, switching between different types of motions, and varying the intensity of touch.

Complete Article HERE!

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Why Erotic Fan Fiction Might Be the Key to a Better Sex Life

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By Jandra Sutton

Where I come from, sex is taboo. I never learned how to use a condom, I never learned anything about birth control, and abstinence was preached above all else. I was even given a fake plastic credit card as a symbol of my pledge to remain abstinent, a tiny golden card that told us of the “importance of abstinence” that we could carry around in our wallets, intended as something that would remind us of the gift and value of our virginity, along with our commitment to not have sex—and yes, I attended public school.

At the private Christian university I attended, it got worse instead of better. Professors gave talks about how masturbation was evil and addicting, not to mention the sins of pornography. We were told that pornography was basically a gateway drug to sexual promiscuity and broken relationships. Pornography was whispered about in church like it was heroin, making it one of the worst things in which you could possibly indulge. Sex and everything related to sexuality quickly became terrifying, although of course, I was still curious, but clueless. TV and movies were all I had to learn about sex, but I soon discovered that the library scene in Atonement doesn’t quite count as a proper sexual education.

I’ve recently started coming to terms with sexuality, however. I’ve realized that there are issues with my limited knowledge of sex that aren’t just dangerous (hello, condoms) but severely limiting in terms of my relationship with my husband—yup, I’m married now.

So what options are left? My conservative upbringing made it uncomfortable (and embarrassing) to talk to a professional about sex, and I could never dream of mentioning my burgeoning sex life with my friends. Hell, even writing an article about sex is enough to make me blush. Like right now.

Weirdly enough, fan fiction saved my sex life. It’s strange to admit, especially to countless strangers on the internet, but it taught me that sexuality isn’t just OK, it’s a part of life and something to be embraced.

I stuck with fan fiction about fictional characters, mainly because I was (and am) uncomfortable with reading fan fiction about real people—especially sexual scenarios—but also because it allowed me to explore without any secondhand embarrassment. I didn’t want to watch porn or hear about real people having sex because, truthfully, I couldn’t handle it. Sticking with the fictional, however, lowered the barrier of entry (pun intended).

By reading about characters with whom I already identified, fan fiction taught me that I’m not a light switch to be turned on and off when convenient. I knew that arousal was different for men and women, but I assumed that I was defective if I couldn’t get “into the mood” without proper, erm, stimulation. Even then, there were times that sex still wasn’t on my agenda, but I had no guidelines for how to deal with that except TV shows where the woman would feign a headache (and be portrayed as a frigid b*tch for doing so).

Fan fiction provided me with a safe space to explore my sexuality. With only one sexual partner in my life, I’d never had the opportunity to discover what I liked in bed. Sex, as I soon discovered, isn’t something to be ashamed of—and it shouldn’t be.

Not knowing anything about the different types of foreplay, role-playing, different positions, masturbation, and more, I came into my marriage relationship as a virtual tabula rasa. And while that could be viewed as a good thing depending on your personal beliefs, it definitely made sex awkward. I had a vague idea of things I thought I should be doing, but I had no idea how to do them. I didn’t know how to take an active role in pleasing my husband, and I had even less of an inkling on how to enjoy myself in the process. Sure, I could talk to my spouse about these issues—and did—but it often left me feeling deficient.

Fan fiction, however, let me read about healthy sexual relationships without feeling embarrassed or overwhelmed. I could delve into different sexual scenarios on a whim, and I was in control of the process. It allowed me to explore (or avoid) whatever I wanted, which I could then take back to the bedroom thanks to the support of my husband.

Given that women are more often stimulated by the written word than men, fan fiction helped cultivate a healthy sexual appetite within my relationship that had been previously inaccessible to me. Fanfic is often more female-friendly than porn in that it often gives women a more dominant role, especially one in which the female orgasm is just as important (if not more so) than the male’s, along with the ability to choose a story that has a plot (not just sex), making it more immersive in the process. Not only that, this makes erotic fan fiction more approachable—and beneficial—to people like me, who are interested in learning but are often uncomfortable with blatant displays of sexuality.

Honestly, I’m beyond grateful for erotic fan fiction. It’s free. It’s safe. It’s empowering. Why shouldn’t women—and men—be free to imagine themselves having kick-ass sex? And instead of taking away from my relationship, reading about sex this way has enriched our sex life in ways that I definitely didn’t expect. I learned that sex is normal, it’s healthy, and it’s whatever the f*ck I want it to be, because it’s mine (and my husband’s). The concept of “should” doesn’t belong in the bedroom.

Fan fiction doesn’t just offer readers the opportunity to escape, it also reminds us that sexuality— whatever form that may take for you—is perfectly normal. It’s OK to have experience, and it’s OK not to. Sometimes we feel like we need to be having sex (and lots of it), but we’re also expected to be the perfect blend of sexy and innocent, knowing exactly how to drive our partners wild, all while feeling incredibly confident in the bedroom and seeming like eternal virgins. The challenge for women can seem insurmountable, especially when the pressure to perform sexually can absolutely kill the mood.

I’d spent so much time worrying about how to do sex “right” that I forgot the importance of enjoying myself throughout the process. Yes, I want to please my partner, but my own pleasure should be of primary concern, as well. Over the course of our lives, women are subtly taught to view themselves as objects, and sexual objectification is no different. We exist as more than objects to fulfill our partners’ sexual desires, and in my experience, fan fiction can help teach that. As more and more women see and experience relationships—even fictional ones—in which a woman’s sexual enjoyment is just as valuable as a man’s, she can see her own pleasure as increasingly important.

And if you’re looking for an easy introduction to erotic fan fiction, a quick trip to Google will help you find a whole host of steamy scenarios. Start with something simple, like a longer fanfic that simply has sex woven into the broader plotline, or dive right in with a collection of smutty one-shots (these are short, one-chapter-length snippets).

Fanfiction.net and Archive of Our Own are both great places to start, and you can even search based on your favorite pairing or how smutty you want the story to be. Want to imagine yourself as the object of Thor’s affection? It’s definitely doable with a quick search. Or if you’re just dipping your toes in, you can even filter the search results according to rating: If you’re more comfortable keeping it PG-13, do that. Want something more mature? Opt for that! Go forth and embrace your sexuality, find what works for you, and know that wherever you’re at is a great place to be.

Complete Article HERE!

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It’s totally OK to like pegging if you’re a straight man – 7 guys tells us why

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If 2017 was the year of eating ass, 2018 will be the year of pegging.

Chances are you’ve already heard of it – but if you haven’t, pegging is, in most cases, a sexual act where a straight man is penetrated by a woman wearing a strap-on dildo. And no, it doesn’t involve a peg leg.

The word ‘pegging’ elicits responses of shock and judgement in many, and it might not be for everyone, but as with all sex, it is simply about pleasure.

Pegging has been around since the dawn of time (anything we do, rest assured, the Romans did it first) but it wasn’t until the 1998 release of sexologist Carol Queen’s sex education video series Bend Over Boyfriend that the act was given more attention.

But despite its recent surge in pop culture, in part thanks to shows like Broad City and movies like Deadpool, the act still remains largely taboo.

Many people still mistakenly think that if a straight man enjoys being penetrated, it makes him gay (it doesn’t) or unmanly (utter bollocks).

Anal pleasure for straight men has always been a taboo, partly due to this misguided, patriarchal idea of emasculation, and partly due to an ‘ew’ factor.

But letting internalised homophobia and gender roles get in the way of mind-blowing orgasms seems a little bit silly, doesn’t it?

After all, the prostate – the walnut-size gland found under a man’s bladder and easily accessible via the anus – is essentially the male g-spot. A magic pleasure button, if you will.

Aside from the intense physical pleasure, one of the best aspects of pegging in a cis, hetero relationship is that it inverts the traditional framework of gender and sexual roles.

According to a 2012 study published in the journal Sex Roles, clinging to traditional gender roles could make us feel less comfortable between the sheets, and research by sexuality educator Dr. Charlie Glickman also shows that straight men who had tried pegging were more in tune with what their female partner needed from them during penetration.

So pegging could not only give men a more intense orgasm, but it could possibly teach them a thing or two on how to pleasure women; basically, a win win.

When you think about it, pegging is still standard heterosexual PIV sex because the bottom line (pun intended) is putting something inside a hole. It simply works the other way around.

Indulging in something that is taboo helps chip away the stigma, which helps people get over their insecurities about what turns them on.

Talking about all kinds of sex, urges and curiosities is the first step towards a fulfilling sex life, and no one should feel ashamed to discuss their sexual preferences.

And because sex should always be a judgement free zone, here, seven straight men share their experience with pegging (anonymously, because society is still a little prudish). To quote Ilana from Broad City: ‘Anal’s on the menu’.

R, 33

My interest for anal play and pegging didn’t develop until my 30s.

During my 20s, I was more interested in having different sexual partners and more ‘traditional’ sex.

However, as my relationships started to become more stable, I found that pegging added an extra dimension to my sex life.

I was also very curious about prostate stimulation that is mentioned constantly in many sex articles, so this became something I wanted to try.

C, 21

It’s no different to admitting you having a fetish.

Some people are into feet and others like to be spanked or choked and pegging isn’t any different.

It might be a bit awkward to talk about at first but if you can’t openly talk to your partner then they’re not meant for you.

A, 27

It was my ex girlfriend’s idea, she read about it and brought it up with me.

I was skeptical at first, but even now that we’re not together anymore, it’s something I do with my new partner.

We don’t do it very often but even when we just have regular sex, she’s a lot more assertive, which I think is really hot.

K, 33

I suffer from erectile dysfunction so the allure of pegging was that it took the focus off the penis.

The prostate is basically the male g-spot so it means men who struggle with staying hard can reach orgasm without any penis stimulation at all.

M, 26

Once I realised how good it felt to have your anus stimulated through rimjobs, it kind of snowballed.

My girlfriend and I both started using butt plugs on each other, then we tried vibrators, then dildos.

One day we bought a strap on and never looked back.

M, 24

What I love about it besides the physical sensation, which is awesome, is the power switch.

There’s a lot of trust involved in being pegged, you need to have faith that the woman won’t hurt or judge you and there’s a lot of intimacy in that, which can be very powerful.

There’s also something to be said about someone wanting to please you like that, it makes you feel desired.

T, 26

It just feels really good, there’s not much more to it. If your gal is willing to try I recommend going for it, easy as that.

Complete Article HERE!

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We Need To Talk About LGBTQ Students & Sex Ed

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By Kimberly Truong

It’s no secret that the state of sex education in America can be dire — so much so that when Refinery29 polled more than 500 of our staffers and readers about their sex ed, we found that nearly a third described their respective experiences as “terrible.”

But if sex ed already fails to be comprehensive in general, often neglecting subjects like consent and pleasure, imagine how unhelpful it can be for students who identify as LGBTQ.

In fact, according to a 2016 report from the Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network (GLSEN), LGBTQ students are even less likely than their peers to find sex ed useful. In a survey of 1,367 students, almost half (46.5%) of LGBTQ students who received sex ed said they didn’t find it useful, while less than a third (29.9%) of their non-LGBTQ peers reported the same.

These results aren’t exactly surprising. For starters, a 2015 study from the Public Religion Research Institute found that a mere 12% of millennials reported that their sex education classes even discussed same-sex relationships in the first place. And, sadly, most of the dialogue around LGBTQ sex ed is about how terrible it can be. A cursory Google search for “LGBTQ sex ed” will bring up front-page results like “The Quest For Inclusive Sex Ed” and “LGBTQ Youth Need Inclusive Sex Education.” Not to mention, what we learn about virginity and safer sex often neglects to cover what those topics might entail for people who aren’t heterosexual. In fact, sex ed can fail to acknowledge that even what’s considered sex in the first place can differ depending on the person.

Discussing sexual orientation and LGBTQ issues in a positive way, however, is crucial to inclusive and useful sex ed that sets up students for safer, consensual sex lives (which is a pretty bare minimum goal). Noreen Giga, senior research associate for GLSEN, tells Refinery29 that even when LGBTQ issues are included in sex ed or other health discussions, they can be covered in a stigmatizing way, like “only talking about the LGBTQ community when talking about harmful behaviors” — for example, only discussing HIV/AIDS when it comes to transgender people and gay men.

“That’s just talking about the community in a negative way and not providing any positive information or representation around LGBTQ youth, especially when it pertains to healthy sexual behavior,” Giga says. “HIV can be an issue in the LGBTQ community, but that doesn’t mean that’s what health education should focus on — it needs to focus on preparing young people to engage in safer sex practices.”

It’s no wonder, then, that GLSEN’s 2015 National School Climate Survey found that less than 6% of LGBTQ middle and high school students in the U.S. learned about LGBTQ issues in a positive way during health classes. So where does that leave the remaining 94% of LGBTQ students? In an educational environment that either covers these issues in a negative way or completely ignores them. And that’s unacceptable.

“There are so many barriers when it comes to sex education overall that when you move down the line to thinking about comprehensiveness and inclusivity, it’s a huge challenge,” Giga says.

While it’s clear that educators have to make sure that sex education really prepares everyone — not just straight people — the rest of society needs to do our part and examine our own biases to help make that possible. Positive, comprehensive LGBTQ sex ed isn’t a straightforward issue that can be solved with any one solution. But in a world where parents can be outraged over children learning about different sexualities in school, and health teachers can be suspended for teaching students about gender identity, perhaps we can start by helping people better understand orientations and identities that are different from their own.

We may have a ways to go before sex education really addresses the issues it needs to in order to help us all lead healthier, more enjoyable lives, but we do have to start somewhere — even if that means having conversations that make us uncomfortable. (Need help? Our Gender Nation glossary is a great place to start.)

“We need to let go of this fear that you need to know all these answers [about sexual education], or this idea that young people need to feel shame when asking these questions [about sexual health],” Giga says. “Sexual health education is crucial, not only to students’ current well-being, but also the rest of their lives. It plays a part in having healthy relationships, learning to negotiate better health care, communicating with doctors, and even in how we think about gender roles.”

Bottom line: Everyone deserves education that helps them make healthy choices about their bodies and their relationships, no matter what their sexual orientation or gender identity happens to be

Complete Article HERE!

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Exploring the controversial fetish of race play

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Having spent a lot of my life writing about sex, and exploring all the millions of ways in which people have sex, I can say that very little has ever shocked me. 

One of the few things to ever leave me slightly open mouthed is the concept of race play.

For the uninitiated, race play is a subset of BDSM where the focus of the imbalance in the role play stems from the races of the people in question.

In practice this often presents as people of colour role playing as slaves, or people of Jewish heritage role playing as prisoners.

We did warn you this was controversial stuff.

But it’s also popular. On the kinky dating site and forum Fetlife, the fetish has hundreds of groups dedicated to it and thousands of users who openly subscribe to being a fan.

Yet even in the fetish scene, where most things are fair game, race play is controversial.

Sophia*, 34, told Metro.co.uk that she felt ostracized on the fetish scene: ‘I have friends who are open about doing rape play or age play, but race play is a hard limit.

‘I feel like I’m not even allowed to talk about it, like it’s somehow this line we’re not allowed to cross. As a Jewish woman, I do feel ashamed of the types of role play I enjoy, but I can’t help it. It’s something that is deeply ingrained in me.’

Race play is a complicated and confusing area. The idea that someone might reenact genuine traumas that their ancestors experienced, but for sexual gratification, is a confusing one to anyone who isn’t that way inclined.

My stance on sex and sexuality is always, and will always be, that what you do in your bedroom is no one’s business but your own. As long as it’s consensual, why would anyone need to have any kind of opinion on your sexual fantasies?

In my experience, BDSM can be a way of working out some issues. Having been called bossy, argumentative and controlling for my entire life (thanks for that, society!) I found that being sexually submissive helped to soothe the concern that maybe I was all of those things.

I talked to Master Dominic, a professional dominant and sexual education expert about this complicated but compelling area of fetish, specifically why people enjoy it.

‘It’s always hard to definitively explain why people are into something specific,’ he tells Metro.co.uk. ‘Everyone has their own spin on it.’

‘The taboo nature of it is certainly a big aspect, but that can come from a few different places. It can be a relatively simple “pushing the envelope is sexy” sort of thing, or it can come from a place of internalised racism.

‘The latter takes much more consideration, empathy and communication to navigate.

Master Dominic echoed my own sentiment – that sex and fetishes can be used to explore ingrained issues. He explained:

‘People turn to sex and fetish to process and own something traumatic or troubling, and whilst I absolutely think that you are completely within their rights to do so, you do need to try to dissect it a little so there’s an understanding of the context and the need.’

What Master Dominic hits on here is something to be aware of when dealing with more niche fetishes. Those that make us uncomfortable, or that feel out of kilter with an otherwise politically correct outlook on life, can be the hardest to navigate.

‘It can be tough, for sure, especially when one of you is not part of an ethnic minority’ says Dominic.

‘It’s been one of the toughest learning curves in my career, as a middle class white man, to understand.

‘So yes, it is part of the BDSM spectrum in a lot of ways and it shouldn’t be gasped at or judged. Nobody should be policing how anybody else relates to and expresses their race, heritage, gender identity, or sexuality. It’s theirs to own and express as they wish.’

Negotiating race play from the side of the person of colour is fraught enough, but what happens if you’re a white person who has a race fetish? Is it okay to find it arousing? Or is it just your racism adopting a different guise?

Therapist Sarah Berry, who specialises in sex and sexuality explains: ‘We all have different preferences of what we find arousing and may well be more judgmental than political correctness dictates, for example hair colour, height, weight, salary.

‘If someone only goes for a certain race it could be part of this. Or it could be that someone has ideas based around stereotypes or that person being perceived as more “exotic”. If someone is having a hook-up or relationship and is finding it hard to have these stereotypes challenged then this could be troubling.

‘I think, as with many things, it is nuanced and complicated – certainly not a black and white issue.

‘It’s important, if you do exhibit this tendency, to be challenged or to see that race isn’t the only defining factor of the rounded human that they are with. If someone wanted to exert power over someone else that they do not respect because of their race or any other reasons then this is not healthy.

‘Likewise if someone felt they needed to punished for race or other reasons by someone they perceive as superior then this is also not healthy.’

No kinky person wants to refuse their sexual desires on the basis of politically correctness, but no decent person wants their partner to feel fetishised for their race.

Complete Article HERE!

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