The Female Orgasm

It is a truth universally acknowledged that it is much harder for a woman to reach orgasm than it is for a man.

It’s a fact – nearly all men climax without difficulty, and yet women seem to need more attention and more effort on the part of their partner to reach the pleasure peak of the so-called Big-O. So much so in fact, that until a few decades ago, doctors even believed that it was scientifically impossible for most women to reach this sexual climax at all. In certain cultures, those who actually did were sometimes even considered to be unnatural by their husbands or partners.

On the other hand, nowadays we get a totally opposite yet still wrong picture through porn and the media, which portray women orgasming vociferously and vigorously multiple times as a matter of course. Unfortunately, reality is quite different!

Not all of us are automatically turned on every time we’re confronted by an excited male, nor is it so easy to reach sexual gratification just because someone squeezes our booty or jumps up and down on us a couple of times. Yes, women can reach orgasm too, but no, they do not reach this sexual target as automatically and easily as men do.

Why? Because apparently while men only seem to need a visual and physical stimulus for them to reach a certain state of excitement, women also need a mental and/or emotional stimulus.

There are two types of orgasms. These are vaginal orgasms and clitoral orgasms. Sigmund Freud, the father of psycho-analysis, used to believe that older women had vaginal orgasms, while younger and more immature women had clitoral orgasms. Experts no longer believe this. However, Freud was right in thinking that there were two kinds of orgasm. This was also maintained in a study published in the Journal of Sexual Medicine in 2013, which showed how ultrasound tests revealed that the two kinds of orgasms – clitoral and vaginal – differ in blood flow and sensations produced.

French gynaecologists Odile Buisson and Emmanuele A. Jannini tracked blood pressure and patterns as it flowed through the female body and organs, and they saw changes in blood flow during different types of stimulating contacts…

This article of mine was published on EVE.COM.MT – Please click here to read the rest! http://www.eve.com.mt/2016/11/29/the-female-orgasm-fact-vs-fiction/

Am I being Sexually Harassed?

Where is the line between ‘just a bit of a joke’ and sexual harassment? When are we allowed to finally admit that something is making us feel uncomfortable, or that we feel threatened, without appearing ‘party-poopers’ or ‘milksops’ who do not know ‘how to take a joke’?

Seriously, can someone explain it to me please?

Yesterday, something happened at the office, which made me feel quite uncomfortable and which I did not like one bit. Someone behaved quite inappropriately towards me and the way he talked was also vulgar and out of place. This person works in my same department, however I rarely see him (thankfully), as he is in another building. He is also married and knows I have a partner whom I have a home with. Moreover, his wife herself also works in our same department too! (In a third building). Could this make his flirting and overt sexual advances any more inappropriate!??

Anyways, after this episode, I talked to my director and she kind of said it was quite out of place, but to take no notice of it. Fine. This morning, at 7.30am (I was still half asleep), the same guy came over to my office, he closed the door after him, came right up in my face, and tried to kiss me. Now, how’s that for ‘a joke’?

I was quite firm at that point and even raised my voice a bit, yet he went out slowly after I had signed for something, and continued to talk to me with a weird smile on his face, as though nothing untoward had happened… wow wtf. Is it just me? Am I a stick in the mud? Was it just a joke or does this guy seriously think I would have kissed him??

And before someone points any fingers, no I was not wearing anything skimpy or revealing – NOT THAT THAT GIVES ANYONE THE RIGHT TO TRY TO FEEL ME UP!

Now I’m feeling really uncomfortable. Somewhere where I generally spend 6-9 hours of my time every day no longer feels safe, and this is totally unfair. I don’t want to escalate it because first of all, this guy knows ‘people’ and wont get fired or moved for sure, and secondly because if I said anything, I would be the one appearing in a bad light, because I would be a ‘bitch’ who didn’t know how to ‘take a joke’…

Heh… I just hope this guy does’nt come over to our building again and that I won’t see him again any time soon…

What does the ‘ROUGH’ in ‘ROUGH SEX’ mean?

It’s indisputable that after the introduction of the Fifty Shades of Grey franchise; the semi-erotic soft porn love story between a sexually ignorant student and a pervy good-looking millionaire with latent mummy-issues, the interest in rough kinky sex rose to new heights. Many husbands and partners were faced with women who, after reading the eponymous trilogy of books or watching the movie, welcomed them home with leather lingerie, candy whips and furry manacles. Honestly, I don’t think they complained.

But apart from using bondage as a hopeful plot to revive a sexually-flagging marriage, or as a way of adding new spice to the relationship, what exactly constitutes rough sex?

Want to read more? My article was published on the online mag – EVE.COM – here’s the direct link  – http://www.eve.com.mt/2016/07/02/what-does-rough-in-rough-sex-mean/  

Monday Morning (What do you think of the GRANNY PORN industry?)

I sigh and prod my face into a mask, trying not to slump. The last session has not gone well. The gynaecologist said that unless I stopped with my current lifestyle, not only would the continual discharge and incontinence continue, but the flow would increase too. I don’t really understand what he said the problem is; a ‘prolapsed cervix due to a weakness in the pelvic muscles’. Pelvic muscles – now THAT I can understand.

Mulishly, I gaze at the veggie-shop beside me. I’m so fed up of eating fruit and vegetables to ‘flush out my system’ as Dr Weiss says. What a load of nonsense. Better have surgery, like Didi, and be done with it. A little nip and tuck is all it takes. Change my way of life? As if.

It’s not that I like my job really, I tell myself, as I cross the street. I don’t. All those sweaty struggling faces trying so hard to look consciously earnest. The newbies are the worse, thinking it’s all real and then unable to do the job with all the lights and coffee-swigging mumblers on the side-lines looking on. Just another day for me – a traumatic experience for them. I guess I’m too jaded at this point. And that, too, comes with the job, as my mother used to say.

The bus stops and I get on, swiping my card and taking a look at the driver. I wonder if he recognises me, though obviously, he will not, exactly, remember where. Slowly, I shuffle along, trying to sit down gingerly, carefully, before the bus re-starts. It hurts to sit down. Not where you would expect though. My back and legs hurt, creaking with too much use. At least I never had the presumption to have any children. That would have ended my career for sure. Don’t know how they manage it – some people. Well, not all, just look at Cheeky Cherry – not even able to look her son in the face anymore. Should have known it would come to that at some point.

Arrived. I stumble past an old guy with sunglasses and a greasy baggy woolen vest thrown over frumpy trousers. Blearily he stares at me and looks away. Probably more of an interracial underage aficionado. No loss there. I round the corner, and enter the studio, a dim shabby building squashed between a hippy record store and a run-down block of apartments. Bathroom, then make-up and a look at the rack of underwear prepared for today.

I glance at the three pimply teenagers waiting around hopefully, then spying me, with widening eyes, grabbing at the pill provided to strengthen their resolve, stiffen their spines, and everything else. No alcohol though. That would defeat the purpose. I wave a hello at Doris, the washed-out fluffer, as zombie-like, she coughs her usual mucus-riddled cackle, and sashay along towards the toilets, mockingly ogling the thin terrified wannabes. Bad, bad Nancy. Wasn’t nicknamed ‘Naughty Nancy’ for nothing.

© Darkly Dreaming Moonsong

This short story was sent to Keith Kreates as part of his weekly challenge – https://wordpress.com/read/post/feed/36207183/831896472

Male Genitals – A Fashion Statement?

Men have always been fond and rather proud of their ‘family jewels’. Let’s face it however (just between us girls), having genitals which literally dangle in the way of certain physical pursuits like running, bending, horse-riding, and during medieval times, sword-fighting, is not really practical, not to mention comfortable. This is why, mostly during the Renaissance, society saw the rise of that most prominent and masculine of apparels – the codpiece.

A codpiece is a pouch or covering flap of material which was attached to and covered the genital or scrotum areas. It was generally worn by males as early as during the Greek classical era, however it is during the  15^th and 16^th centuries that codpieces reached their ‘peak’, in that the fashion was to further pad and emphasize the importance of a man’s codpiece (talk about advertising the size of one’s ‘assets’), rather than concealing them for modesty’s sake. This trend most probably began with the shortening of men’s doublets (hip-length fitted jacket-like garments worn in Europe by men over their shirts). When hemlines rose and hoses (thin tight-fitting tights or breeches) became longer and open at the front, this resulted in under-dressed genitals, which further stressed the importance of the codpiece as a triangular piece of fabric covering the gap.

Codpieces were generally made of linen and either stitched or held closed with laces or buttons. Victoria Miller, a researcher and student at Cambridge University who is studying the history of the codpiece as part of her PhD, related to The Guardian newspaper that the codpiece first ‘came into fashion as something really modest, a triangular piece of fabric. In the first couple of decades of the 16^th century it started to be stuffed. Then it got to epic proportions, some more phallic, some more testicular or ovoid in shape… Men always agonised about their masculinity – and especially the question of size’.

So basically, the codpiece was the male rendition of a stuffed push-up bra.

Those concerned with public morals started to be worried about the issue. In 1555 a Bishop in Frankfurt became notorious for publishing a pamphlet criticizing the codpiece in that he berated the fact that ‘young fellows have their cod-pieces in front puffed out by the flames and rags of Hell so that the Devil can sit and look out in all directions, causing scandal and creating a bad example’, bemoaning the ‘poor, giddy, innocent girls [who] are seduced and enticed’ (quoted from: http://www.fashionintime.org/history-mens-undergarments-part-1/). Interesting description!

During the time of Queen Elizabeth (1533 – 1603) the codpiece started to become smaller and smaller, until fashions totally changed and its use was abandoned.

Or were they?

What about those contemporary artists and singers who, as a fashion statement, have chosen to strut around in leather or even gem-encrusted codpieces on stage? It is well known that during the glam-rock era of the 70s and 80s notorious personages like Jethro Tull, Rob Halford (of the band Judas Priest), Axl Rose (Guns N’ Roses) and even David Bowie (check out his 80s movie ‘The Labyrinth’) sported prominent codpieces.

Have you watched any periodical dramas on T.V recently? How about ‘The Borgias’, ‘The Tudors’, or ‘Wolf Hall’? What about all those BBC historical adaptations? Noticed anything popping out of those skinny tight-fitting tights and leather pants?

How about the colourful costumes of all our favourite comic-book heroes? Superman, Batman, Robin – now those are some famous guys who REALLY put the spotlight on their prominent masculinity, don’t they?

What do you think, should codpieces come back into mainstream fashion?

—- A version of this article was published on Eve online magazine here – http://www.eve.com.mt/2015/07/23/male-genitals-a-fashion-statement/

What is so ‘shameful’ about being a Single Parent?

The wise say ‘You can lead a horse to the water, but you cannot make him drink’. This could also roughly translate to ‘Society can try to pressure couples with a baby on the way to make a go for it ‘for the baby’s sake’, but if the couple are not good together and not meant to be, they will eventually part ways all the same’. Lengthier, but true.

I see it again and again, two people who would otherwise not continue dating past the third month, try to force themselves into continuing something against their will, heart and mind, just because one of them ‘got’ pregnant. Apart from the fact that it only takes only tiny little contraceptive to prevent this, WHY oh WHY cannot family, friends, and long-nosed push-over’s the world over realize that no matter how much you try to manipulate, stress, and bully someone into doing what is, according to you that is, ‘morally and socially acceptable’, this will not work, unless the two people in question are actually really in love in the first place? In which case, they would continue the relationship naturally, take the baby in their stride (though admittedly, this is not an easy thing to do even when a pregnancy is planned), and evolve as a healthy and normal couple without needing anyone’s pressure or solicitations.

The worst case scenario is when the two people try to convince themselves that they actually do feel something more than a passing fancy, or a falling-in-lust period, something permanent – since the child is obviously permanent too. You’d think this would be better, as the two would actually be trying to go along – however what this leads to is usually a prolonged period of agony. Sometimes years pass by, the child starts to grow into a sentient being, and soon realizes that something at home is just not right. His parents are different from his friends’. They are not loving towards each other, hardly touch, hardly even speak civilly. In fact, when one is in a room, the other is most often to be found at the other end of the house, if s/he is at home at all. And this takes place if they both, or singly, have not decided to have one or more extra-marital affairs, which is still yet another kettle of fish. Most people seem to believe that all this takes place ‘for the sake of the child’ – really? Do you think a child growing up in this atmosphere of tense unhappiness would be happy himself/herself?

Others are worried about social benefits, knowing there to be breaches and cases of fraud where people maintain that a child’s father is ‘unkown’, simply to gain a percentage of society’s hard earned cash. Yes, unfortunately it has been known for there to be people who took advantage of the social benefits offered, however does this make it right to put everyone into the same basket? Apart from that, the issue at hand concerns those couples who are forced into a relationship after the beginning of a pregnancy, not those who do not claim parentage.

Why not come out and say it? Single-parenthood, for many, seems to be a shameful smut on the family name, which is why most people simply tell their son/daughter to ‘shut up and take responsibility’. This does not mean ‘pay for your son’s upkeep and schooling and take care of him/her emotionally’, but ‘sacrifice your entire life making yourself and others believe that you love a partner whom you actually wouldn’t spend more than a few minutes with, precluding any chance of happiness with anyone else’. Is this fair? Is this practical? Is this tolerant, understanding and loving? Of course not, and yet, being subconsciously afraid of the stigma, people still do it. Probably I will have to start looking over my shoulder after this article is published – maybe someone will even proclaim that I’m a henchman (or in this case, henchwoman) of endless debaucheries and fornication. Simply put, this is how I see it.

What on earth is wrong with being a single parent? Both parents could have contact with their child, without the need of forcing themselves into enduring years and years of wasted life ‘shared’ with someone who’s less important to them than their favourite pair of socks! There is nothing wrong with a single parent enjoying a healthy relationship with his/her child. Does anyone tell off widowers/widows who take care of their children alone after a loss? No! Everyone considers them to be heroes for being so brave, strong and efficient and tackling the upbringing of a child on their own. So, why isn’t the same measure used for ALL single parents? The issue, once more, has got to do with the sex-taboo prevalent in many societies. Why let an issue which is present mostly due to lack of sexual education and awareness cloud our judgement and influence the life of many people so negatively?

We tiptoe around it, trying not to look, trying not to acknowledge this mentality which, unfortunately, is still here in this day and age. Isn’t it time we looked straight at it and tackled it heads-on?

—- A version of this blog article was published on the online magazine EVE here – http://www.eve.com.mt/2015/07/21/what-is-so-shameful-about-being-a-single-parent/

Why does a Penis get floppy during Sex?

Yesterday I was watching an episode of Grey’s Anatomy with my bf (yes, I like Grey’s Anatomy – shoot me ;p), and one of the characters started dating an ex model, whom he liked a lot. This guy was known for being a bit of a Casanova, as well as for his sexual prowess, however when he came to do the deed with this girl – he flopped. Literally.

The issue apparently was emotion-related. The guy was so used to having one-night stands and sport-sex, that when he tried doing it with someone whom he honestly cared about, he just couldn’t.

And this got me thinking. Usually, most people tend to function better sexually when they do the act with someone they are in love with or at least feel SOMETHING about. That is the usual idea. On the other hand, this does not mean we never have good sex with people who are just random or whose main attraction is physical, and not emotional. I’m not saying that, however mostly we all agree that when there is emotional depth involved as well, the experience is better on many levels.

The guy in the series was aware of this… too much so in fact. He could take emotionless sexual intercourse, what he could not take was having feelings for someone else. The feelings coupled with the sexual attraction were just too much, and he was scared off. We might think of this situation as a fluke, but it really isn’t.

Think about it – how many people do you know who are afraid of committing themselves emotionally? One night stands are easy. You meet someone in a bar, you hook up, you make out, you get sweaty and excited for a couple of hours, and then it’s over. The other person goes their own way, and you are free to continue your life as you usually do. Nothing has changed. You had an itch, and scratched it. That’s all.

When emotions are involved, it’s an entire kettle of fish. You know you could get hurt. You know that if that person rejects you, your disappointment will probably affect your self-esteem. You are investing time, moods, and feelings over someone who, no matter how you look at it, is a stranger, and are giving him/her power over you.

That is what it actually boils down to. When you feel something for someone, you give them power over you. Sex is just sex. Feelings are something else.

Which is why, I guess, the guy from ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ couldn’t get his dick up. Fear is a great lust deterrent. However without fear, without the threat of loosing something precious to us, without putting our heart and emotions on the line – would life be worth living?

I’m not saying that each time your partner’s penis is flaccid and can’t make it, that means he’s afraid of what he feels for you. He could be tired, sick, or plain not in the mood. However when you go out with someone new, and you are about to do it for the first time, if he can’t get it up… that’s something else.

Women = You are a Blatant Disappointment!

http://www.timesofmalta.com/articles/view/20150226/local/fifty-shades-of-grey-breaking-local-records.557723

Really? Are most Maltese women as misguided and bereft of any kind of intimacy as all that? This novel/movie is wrong on so many levels that I really don’t know where to start. Let me at least try to scratch the surface:

1. The writing is CRAP. As a book-lover and writer with a Bachelor of Arts (Hons) and a Masters in English Contemporary Literature, I can say this with professional and experienced detachment – it is TURDS ON TOAST, and that’s that.

2. It was originally written as a fan-fic of Twilight… which says it all. Love Twilight? Love soft-porn? Here you got a mixture of the two!

3. It’s not even real BDSM!! And believe me, I know what I’m saying! The novel is about a girl who doesn’t know her cunt from her ass, meeting a ‘pshycologically hurt’, not to mention inept, guy, who thinks he wants to play Master, while all he wants is a girlfriend without the title.

4. It wrongly promotes the idea that people who find BDSM kinky and titillating, like it because they are emotionally disturbed in some way. That they get excited by whips and leather because there is some big dark secret pointing towards neglect or violence in their childhood or youth = WRONG

What does the fact that it is such a big success say about Maltese women and women in general??

1. These women know NOTHING about BDSM.

2. They know nothing about REAL RELATIONSHIPS, or the ups and downs one really encounters when trying to build something permanent with a partner.

3. They are starved for sex.

4. They haven’t got past the ‘I’m a 14-year old gushy gushy oh-so-innocent version of femininity just waiting to be plucked’ stage.

5. They know nothing about literature, realistic plot-lines, characterization and they know NOTHING of the human psyche!

Don’t like my summary? Bite me!

And yes I have obviously read the the book… tried to must be more like it. The cheesiness, and plain stupidity in every page made me want the vomit. Point being – I don’t write about or criticize something I know nothing about, which is why I made the effort. I wasted hours of my life and numbed my brain for THIS.

Fortunately for the ‘author’ (for want of a better word) many people don’t need to numb their brains to accept and ‘love’ this story, since their consciousness seems to be naturally numb already.

Butterfly

Borne upon the wind
I circle
Antennae wide, lifted towards her
The brilliant one
unfurling her great shining mantle
dizzying in her omniscient heat

Scents and sounds overwhelm me
prevalent in their orgasmic wholeness
nurturing every breath,
every spasm of my floating body
Titillating

I tremble and swell
revelling in the spicy smell of poppies
bathed by the gentle sound of trees
singing with the great storm of petals
One with it all

Slowly, softly
Alighting on a blood-red posy,
I snooze, licking its soporific charm
Fluttering delicate wings
in the fluorescent warm rays