Monthly Archives: July 2012

Jul30

Vibin’

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Vibin’

When I was in high school, I remember there was a big push for abstinence due to influence from the uber-Christians. There would always be that phrase, “Well, the only way to really prevent STDs is by abstinence!”

Obviously they never met my vibrator.

Being a girl comfortable in her sexuality from a very young age (even before losing the big V), I have always understood the wonderful powers of the vibrator in helping me understand what I like and to substitute whenever a man wasn’t around to play – or, in the case of my marriage, to use whenever my sexless husband was unwilling to have sex with me and fell asleep.

After the divorce, I realized that the devices I had to get to my favorite spots were not up to par. They definitely needed an upgrade. That’s when I went to the Pink Kitty.

The Pink Kitty is famous as the only sex shop in Irvine, Calif. (also known as ultra-suburbia – how a sex shop got in there I will never know), located in the corner of a remote industrial park off of MacArthur Boulevard. It’s clean, female-run and filled with every sex toy you can possibly think of and then some. When I went in, all I had was a cheapo rabbit vibrator, one of the most popular vibrators on the market courtesy of its famous episode in “Sex and the City.”

I went to the Pink Kitty shortly after my encounter with the Italian Stallion. I needed to look for a vibrator. The woman at first was skeptical as she scanned the toy wall.

“What do you like?” she said.

“Well, I had a rabbit…” I said.

“Everyone has or had a rabbit. It’s one of the hazards of ‘Sex and the City.’ But that may not be everyone’s cup of tea. Are you more clitoral? Do you need penetration? Do you like dual? Any anal toys?”

It was enough to make my head spin. I remember once seeing a vibrator that was a rabbit combined with an anal vibrator. It looked like a trident, and it scared even me.

The woman smiled and said, “It’s okay. Just if you want a rabbit, you would have to spend a lot of money to get a decent-quality one. There are other vibrators that are more reasonably priced that can get you better stimulation. But you have to know what you like.”

It was then that I was led through the wonderful and wacky world of sex toys, from toys for men (basically a mock vagina – creepy) to super-expensive toys I would need to pay a pretty penny to have.

“Well, I do like G-spot stimulation, and I have learned to squirt, but I like clitoral stimulation as well,” I mentioned.

“Oh, in that case try this one,” she said. She handed me a little purple vibrator, which was long and thin, but had an egg shape on top. “This will be able to help you work your G-spot, but can be used as clitoral stimulation as well. It’s pretty popular, and the price tag is good.” Sure enough, it was only $13 – much nicer than the rabbit, which runs much higher for a good one.

“Just one?” I asked. “What if I like other things?”

“Well, take your time. It takes a while to build a good toy box,” she said with a smile.

As I was paying for my vibrator and some condoms, I watched as visitors came in to look around – older couples of men and women who were scanning for sex toys and body paints, looking completely normal as if they were shopping for a pair of pants. I smiled to myself, thinking about my sexless marriage. These people were actually having sex, working on preserving their marriages. Good for them.

One day, I would hopefully be in their position with a partner who loves me, exploring sexuality together as a part of our journey. I am looking forward to that day. But in the meantime, I was going to enjoy myself on vibrator power.

Jul27

Let’s Hear it for the Boys! Boy 4: The Linebacker

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Let’s Hear it for the Boys! Boy 4: The Linebacker

It was around the Linebacker that things in my dating life got a little crazy and complex. So hang on tight… it’s going to be a bumpy ride.

BOY 4: THE LINEBACKER

HEIGHT: 6’6

AGE: 31

LOCATION: Century City, CA

LOOKS: Broad, blonde, and dude, he’s tall

PROFESSION: Entertainment executive

The Linebacker had a lot of positive qualities. The first was he actually talked to me and wanted to take me out on a real date. You know, not just coffee, not just “hanging out.” As in, “I want to take you to dinner” date. I can honestly say those are pretty damn rare.

When we started talking on the online dating site, I knew, “Okay, this guy and I are mismatched,” but he wanted to take me out. What was I going to say? Besides, I needed a first real date after the divorce. I needed to learn how to ride that bike again… wait, wrong metaphor. I’ll just go with it.

I was nervous as hell about how to approach it with a million different pieces of advice. I decided to call someone who could coach me from a perspective I could actually get on board with – a guy’s perspective. Needless to say, I called AD.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah I’m fine, it’s just… well… I’m-going-on-a-date,” I said quickly and sheepishly.

“Good for you, Amira,” he said. It seemed reassuring. When I asked him advice, he rattled off a laundry list of what I shouldn’t talk about – no politics, no religion, no controversial things, no talking about my ex or any previous relationships. I remember him doing something similar in the past. It was something he did when he was nervous.

“Then what the hell am I supposed to talk about?” I asked him.

“Anything else. C’mon, Amira, you’re great at conversation. This should be a piece of cake.”

“All right, and no sex on the first date.” This is what my girl friend told me.

AD thought about this for a second. “I disagree,” he said. “You know, you do whatever you feel is good and natural, and don’t worry about it.”

Good and natural. Problem is for me, dating isn’t natural.

After a brief encounter with Freaky Deaky, I headed to the restaurant in my cute little outfit, went to the bar and ordered a glass of wine. I even had to say I looked pretty stellar in a cute little dress and cardigan.

And then he walked in – in a polo shirt and jeans. Wow, were we mismatched. But we sat down and I told my stories and he told some of his. I noticed he ordered a ton of food – well, I guess if you’re 6’6, you need a lot of calories to sustain you.

As the evening progressed, I decided to take on my signature flirt move – take off my cardigan and show my bare shoulders. I love this move. As we left, he asked if I wanted to go back to his place. I said sure.

He walked me to my car, holding my hand, and for the first time in my life, I felt petite (I’m rather tall, so I usually tower). When we got back to my car, he asked me if he can kiss me. The fact that he asked sent my little heart fluttering. For that, you can have two, I thought to myself.

We drove back to his house and ended up in his room, where he offered me a hit off of what had to of been a three-foot bong. I refused, as I was looking for work, but he proceeded to get high, and we started to fool around.

My brain became convoluted. I had the one friend saying don’t do it if you liked him (and I did like him), but then AD echoing, “Do whatever you feel is good and natural.” Unfortunately for me, that’s sex.

The sex was surprisingly good despite the lack of junk (you’d think that a guy that big would be packing – nope), and although he didn’t finish, we cuddled until he eventually fell asleep. The time passed, and all I can remember was being huddled there naked, swathed in a white blanket and linens as he fell asleep.

“You okay?” asked the Linebacker.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied. But I wasn’t. The truth was something unusual was brewing in me, and it wasn’t feelings for this guy. It was a combination of being with Freaky Deaky and the Linebacker in one night with another crazy thought – one I had never thought about, because up until that point, I never thought of him that way.

All I could think was, I don’t want anyone else to touch me. I don’t want any other man to touch me this way. Only AD.

This thought frightened me. AD is one of my best friends. He is an amazing human being and means the world to me. He probably doesn’t think of me in any way that involves me getting into bed and taking my clothes off. And although many girls found him attractive, he was never my type physically. Now I was thinking of him that way. Oh shit. What was I going to do?

First I had to end my date by bidding the Linebacker a good night and accidentally slipping a line from Romeo and Juliet to comment how good of a kisser he was. Probably not the best idea. He texted me the next morning to say it wasn’t going to work. At least he was upfront. Another girl will be lucky. Meanwhile, I was left with a whole mess of questions – including what the hell happened to me when I was in that bed to make me face something new in a long-standing friendship?

However, this was not the last I heard from the Linebacker…

Jul25

“The One”? F*** it

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“The One”? F*** it

Attention men and women of the universe looking for a relationship: You have been had.

You have been preached to for years about you needing to find “The One,” and you probably have heard about people being dumped (or have been dumped or have dumped yourself) using the excuse, “Oh, I like him/her, but he/she isn’t the one.” You think there is one person for every person, and there can be no other.

I hate to break it to you, but this isn’t the case. “The One” is the biggest piece of bullshit in the dating world. It has prevented couples from being happy, stopped people who would normally go into relationships not pursue due to technicalities and has brainwashed millions.

We are complex human beings, living life spans longer than generations before who got married for life and then died maybe 20 or 30 years after the marriage began. We grow and we change, and some people don’t tend to change with us, including our spouses or romantic partners. It’s one of the things that led to my divorce – I grew, my ex remained stagnant.

So instead, I propose a new theory based on a Jewish concept. It is the concept of besheret. This concept has been misconstrued by many people to refer to “The One.” It’s not. It’s actual translation is “meant to be.” The root of the word Besheret is Beresheet, or “beginning.” As I have proved with divorce, we have multiple beginnings, and just as we have those, we have multiple besherets. There isn’t just one.

As I have known over the years, things happen for a reason – it is the concept of besheret at play. So instead of preaching about the idea of “The One,” I’m going to bridge the topic to soul mates.

But wait, you may ask. Isn’t a soul mate the same thing as “The One?”

Definitely not, and note I used a plural; it’s because I am of the belief that we have multiple of them, and the concept of soul mate is not a romantic one. Rather, it is one that is dealt in many different types of relationships.

The best example is once upon a time, at 17, I met a girl from the Midwest when I was visiting New York City. We came from different places in the country, and under normal circumstances we never would know each other. We would never have met. And yet we developed a strong bond of friendship that has gone on 13 years, seeing into each other the way that others don’t see us.

She was at my wedding and I was at her’s (although the difference is her marriage has lasted). We don’t talk often, but when we do, it’s a very special thing, and every time I get off the phone with her, we make sure to tell each other that we love one another. We rarely see one another, but when we do we are glued at the hip. Romantic? Never. Meant to be? For certain.

We get confused, in our desperate quest for romantic love, to believe that soul mates are romantic loves. This is not necessarily the case. They can come in a variety of packages. There are quite a few of my friends who qualify for this term, and none of them I have had a romantic relationship with. I have a valid argument that my mother and her first cousin are actually a version of soul mates as well, even though she has been married to my father for over 40 years.

But think about the wonder of the universe that brings certain people into our lives and bonds us to them, united in friendship, family and, on the rare occasion, love. We get so mixed up in what we lack in our lives that we forget the beauty of the people who are actually in them and who were meant to be there. So instead of focusing on what’s missing, let’s take the time to enjoy what’s here now, which is love in all of its wonderful forms – not just romantic.

So stop looking for “The One.” It will only make you sad. Find your soul mates, the people who love you no matter what beyond the context of a relationship. They will make you whole.

Jul23

Going Down…

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Going Down…

When I’m in bed with a guy, I have a barometer in terms of judging whether or not a man is worth my time, both in bed and in life in general. And that barometer happens to be a hedonist that lies between my legs.

When I first started dating when I was young, it was the ultimate double standard – guys wanted to get head, but to have them go for the vagina and they would come up with a variety of excuses to avoid it. It’s either that or, “I only do it if I’m in a long-term relationship.” Really, dude? And you want me to suck you off without a commitment?

I was very fortunate when I was younger, before I was married, to have a friend with benefits who taught me the joy of a guy going down on me. It also helped that he was older and more sexually experienced than what I had previous to that. But mind you, I was younger. And somehow, I feel that there have been plenty of men who have progressed since that time.

My ex may have relegated me to a relatively sexless marriage, but at least he was willing to get me off by going down (although this video may give you a clue as to why). So then came my shock into coming back into the dating world that many of the guys I was with wanted to get me off – they just didn’t want to put their money where their mouths were. Or something like that. I just go with it.

So I’m sure you’re asking why I judge a guy based on something as simple as this. The answer is very simple – it boils down to selfishness in bed. Part of having sex is doing what it takes to please your partner. If your partner enjoys it, you should consider it, particularly if it gives them great pleasure. It’s part of the give and take that makes up sex. I don’t care if he does it all the time – the first time, though, he should put his cards out on the table. And selfishness in bed leads to selfishness in all different aspects of being with a person, whether it’s for a relationship or for a “friends with benefits.”

Is this the only thing I judge a guy on? No way. If he does it, it doesn’t necessarily mean he is a great guy. There are other factors to look out for. But for the guy who doesn’t attempt to go to the Promised Land – well, he’s got some issues. And my hedonist vagina doesn’t really take well to issues in that realm during bedroom time.

Are there any deal-breakers for you in bed? Ladies, is a guy going down on you all it’s cracked up to be? And gentlemen, are there any reasons why you won’t do it?

Jul20

Let’s Hear it for the Boys! Boy 3: Freaky Deaky

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Let’s Hear it for the Boys! Boy 3: Freaky Deaky

Ironically, Boy 3 and Boy 4 meld into each other — basically because they both happened in the same Saturday night on the westside of Los Angeles.

BOY 3: Freaky Deaky

HEIGHT: 6’0

AGE: 29

LOCATION: Culver City, CA

LOOKS: Pale, skinny, skater boy

PROFESSION: IT

Freaky Deaky was a rare case. Like all the other guys, he contacted me through an online dating site, but the rarity was that I actually knew him. I had met him through a friend of mine while I was still married. He was strange then. Stranger came later when I found out he always thought I was attractive. And I wasn’t ready for strangest.

When he contacted me, he told me he remembered me from all those times at my friend’s house. He always said that he thought my ex was gay (as I said before, join the club) and that I was too good for him. He thought I was cool and attractive. And if I wasn’t looking for anything serious, perhaps we should hang out? And thus began the sex talk.

Freaky Deaky had unusual tastes. One was that he loved thongs and only thongs. It was his go-to underwear type on girls. I am assuming there was too much porn involved. He also wanted a threesome — badly. Another was that he did indulge in unusual sex habits, the strangest being sex clinics where couples have sex in front of a group of people and they are critiqued. Needless to say, my style is not where I would like a critique of my dismount from being on top.

We had continued talking until one night, I had to be on the westside of LA – ironically, for a date with Boy 4, also known as the Linebacker. Since I didn’t want to give it away on the first date with him, I thought that possibly having sex before the date with someone else would erase my jitters. (By the way, as the story of the Linebacker shows, it didn’t work – and complicated other things)

I came to his house, dressed for my date and ready to go. We talked casually, like friends, and I wondered when he was going to kiss me and we were going to begin this whole endeavor. Eventually, it began, but to my shock, no kissing. Just touching. Even with booty calls, a kiss is to be expected. He would later tell me he didn’t like kissing. Add another kink to Freaky Deaky.

As it turned out, Freaky Deaky was just the same ol’ same ol’ – sex the normal way, obsessing over my boobs and me being able to show off my blowjob skills. For someone who said he wanted to do freaky things to me, he was a lot of talk and not a lot of show. Just the type of guy I hated in bed.

Although we wanted to meet up again, things got in the way and we never did. We talked, but nothing ever occurred. Later, he would ask me to be honest with him and tell him how the sex was (I told him about the kissing). But it was no worries for me, because I left the house that night for my date with the Linebacker. And that’s when my love life got difficult…

Jul18

Boy friends, or friends who are boys

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Boy friends, or friends who are boys

I may be a woman, but over the course of my life, I have found that I can barely stand certain women. They are the ones who are super-girly, doing massage trains with their girlfriends and freaking out over the size of their diamond engagement rings. Although I have many girl friends (most of them came later in life), a good portion of my friends have been boys.

In college, I found it easier to live with two boy roommates than a slew of girls. I once went to a party several years back I spent with a new guy friend rattling off the lyrics to “Rapper’s Delight” instead of fawning over the other girls’ dresses. AD and I went road tripping together, and let’s just say that lazy Saturdays with my adopted brother/college buddy JB are among the best things ever.

It was different when I was married. Guys could be my friend because I was taken and there was no worries about me hitting on them. I would cuddle up to one of my guy friends while my ex was around with no worries that I was going to do anything. But as I was told as I left my ex, my friendships were going to change. And sure enough, they did.

I was told that most of my friends would fall along gender lines – the girls would come out and support me and the guys would rally around my ex. It happened at first, although with my ex’s erratic behavior after the divorce, it didn’t last. As for my close guy friends, a lot of them had difficulties adjusting to a new single me: a girl who dated and didn’t give a rat’s ass what they thought. Some of them cheered me on and continued to help me heal, JB in particular, who was patient and sweet listening to the stories of all my escapades.

JB was a rare exception, as he knew me before my ex and knew what I used to be like. Then there were those who backed away. My friend I used to cuddle up to now is awkward around me. Guy friends who have girlfriends now seem threatened, and those who found out some of the dirty details of my split look at me funny or hug me super-tight when they see me. And then there was AD, one of two of my best guy friends other than JB.

When I was thinking of leaving my ex, I confided in AD as a friend who had been through divorce as well. He guided me through, and then when I actually left, he was there as often as he could be. But things got awkward as I started to date. I made mistakes – like revealing too much about my sexual escapades. There were guys who were cheering me on, but not AD. In fact, we had a falling out partially because of it — among other things, like me getting crazy drunk at a party he hosted, having a drunken soliloquy filled with crazy talk and practically throwing up on him.

Although we are repairing our relationship, I acknowledged during the conversation after the falling out what he and I both knew: That now our friendship was different now, as it would be for all the guys who I knew previous to the divorce. Originally, being around each other was contingent on the fact that one of us was taken while the other did whatever they wanted. Now that we are both single, it isn’t going to work that way anymore. We are coming into a new stage, and we have to accept what each other were doing without question or judgment. A hard task, but one we are still working on.

Although things will never be the same, I hope to find a degree of normalcy in everything, including my friendship with guys. All I have to keep telling myself is, “In time… in time…”