If you’re like me, then you find dating in this city just horrendous.  Luckily, Gary Wilson, President and Founder of Eligible Inc. has put together a fun girl’s night out for women who are interested in learning more about men from men entitled “Martini’s with Men“. Hosted by “Thirsty Traveler” & “Iron Chef America”, Kevin Brauch, the evening provides women stories about dating, relationships & love while also giving us a little bit of fun (including complimentary makeup by makeup artist Kristine Street, a hair station courtesy of West Salon & Spa & aromatherapy treatments by Maria Kovatchev) while we learn the do’s and don’ts of relationships.

Martini’s with Men #3 is taking place on Wednesday, March 28th from 7pm – 10pm.  I had the chance to sit down with both Kevin Brauch and Gary Wilson from Eligible Inc. to find out more about the event. First up Kevin Brauch, the Thirsty Traveler:

As a lover of sex and a shunner of monogamy, I hold casual sex relationships in very high regard. I believe in them. And I know from personal experience that they can be sustained for long, blissful, orgasmic periods of time if everyone just behaves properly. And to ensure that everyone knows exactly what that means, I gave you guys a jump off code of conduct that I hope to God you’re all adhering to.

While I am firmly of the belief that if you are a fuck buddy you must know your role and not overstep your bounds, I realize that a great many of the world’s jump offs are behaving as though you don’t have the right to basic human decency. Just because you allow a man to take a beats without requiring him to spend the night, doesn’t mean you have to just lay back and let him run a train on all over you. You’re not a mattress, you’re performing an act of kindness by preventing someone from blue balls. The casual sex relationship is supposed to be a beautiful experience from which you emerge happy and well-fucked. It’s not supposed to deliver a crushing blow to your self-esteem from which you will never recover. So here is my handy-dandy guide to being a jump off without ruining your self-esteem.

1.Fuck on your time

We all know that men love to take a beautiful thing like consensual casual sex and shit it up by doing ignorant shit like disrespecting your time. They just can’t help it. But if you and your fuck buddy make plans for 7:30 and he doesn’t show up to beat it up until 10 o’clock, you are under no obligation to still be wet and waiting for him. That’s not how this is supposed to work. If you’re offering up primo, grade-A yanking pussy with no strings attached and that man is lahaying around making his way to you, close up shop. The fuck does he think this is? You’re not an automatic pussy machine, horniness has a window and if he doesn’t show up while it’s open he’s shit outta luck. Unless his lateness is setting the stage for angry sex (which, by the way, I hear is amazing. What do you guys know about that?), fucking a man who has just disrespected you in a non-sexy way is just going to make you feel like shit.

5. Don’t make him be an asshole

Now ladies. I know that the vast majority of you who are participating in casual sex relationships are really not built for it. And I know you little puss pusses get attached to the owner of the dick that’s stretching you out on a regular basis. You lie there in post-nut bliss idly chit chatting and you start to imagine how great the two of you would be together in other circumstances. So you start doing dumb shit like inviting him to your birthday party or trying to hold his hand when you walk down the street. Or thinking that the fact that he’s blowing your back out regularly affords you the right to show up at his house unannounced.

Once you start taking liberties like that, you leave the man no choice but to treat you like shit. He has to make you fall back into position and there’s no point in trying to reason with a jump off who is overstepping her bounds. So he’ll have to do rude shit like promise to go out with you and then flopping at the last minute or pretending not to be home while you’re buzzing him until you get it through your thick skull that he just wants to fuck you. And that’s going to make you feel badly about yourself. Don’t make him take it there ladies. Please don’t.

2. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to

If you’ve been reading my blog for a while now you know that my policy when it comes to unilaterally refusing to participate in certain sexual acts is this: either you’re doing it, or you’re giving out passes for it. If you’re in a relationship and you don’t want to give head you are either explicitly or essentially authorizing your man to get it elsewhere. Because you cannot possibly expect him to live out the rest of his days without head. You cannot. But the key words in that policy are when you are in a relationship.

If you’re a jump off, you don’t have to do anything that’s going to make you feel iffy. Here are two words for you: get your girl to do that for you. Okay that’s more than two words, but whatever. The point is, most women who aren’t me have an act or two that makes them feel some kinda way to participate in. And while I will always tell you to suck it up and at least try for your man, when it’s just a slam you’re not going to get the love up you need to offset the dirty feeling you get when you insert your tongue in his arsehole. So just say no honey.

Keep in mind though that it’s only so many things you can refuse to do when you’re a jump off before you become officially useless.

3. Keep your mouth shut unless you’re about to put a dick in there

If you hope to be wifed down some day, it’s not good for business for you to be giving up free beats. But it’s even worse for business for people to know that you are giving out free beats.  Ladies,  I shouldn’t have to remind you that the Carfax is a real thing. So for the love of all that is good and holy (and your reputation) keep your fucking mouth shut. Tell no one what you’re doing and tell that man to keep his piehole shut too. And if he doesn’t, abort mission. The expression “people talk” was created for a reason and once that shit gets out there is no recovering from it. And trust me ladies, nothing will ruin your self esteem worse than knowing that your secret nickname is Skankassslutbitch.

So there you have it – my tips for being a jump off without needing years of therapy to recover. But what do you guys think? Do you feel the need to safeguard your self-esteem when getting it in sans-strings? Did I miss anything? Speak on it in the comments.

 You guys know I love men. I think they are vastly superior creatures in every way. They’re funnier, they’re dirtier, and they just make sense.

Well, they make more sense, I should say.

Because the thing about men is that they operate under the misapprehension that because their logic is superior to that of women, it actually makes sense all the time. And that is not the case. What my darling men fail to realize that logic is a continuum and it goes a little something like this:

insanity < woman logic < max-logic < man logic < actual logic

As you can see dear men, you’re near the top of the logic food chain, but the man way of thinking is still a little off sometimes. I know women are baffling and make no sense a lot of the time, but believe you me you have your moments too. Allow me to illustrate:

Ignoring what a woman says in favour of what he thinks she must mean

Even the heading is baffling right? Consider this scenario:

A woman tells a man she doesn’t want a relationship. He doesn’t either but instead of proceeding to the no strings attached playground with her, he assumes that she is lying and does, in fact want a relationship and therefore avoids her like the plague.

Or this one:

Man and Woman meet. Man propositions Woman for sex. Woman politely declined. Man, thinking he detected a gleam in Woman’s eyes that suggests she doesn’t mean it, continues to try to get sex from Woman. Woman’s declines get progressively less polite until she is forced to exclaim that she doesn’t want to fuck him, has never wanted to fuck him, will never fuck him and in fact wouldn’t fuck him with someone else’s pussy. Man, continuing to see an imaginary gleam in Woman’s eye, continues to try to get sex from a woman.

This is Man Logic 101 and I do not get it. In any other circumstance you use the evidence that is right in front of your eyes to draw conclusions, but when it comes to the words out of a woman’s mouth all of a sudden you’re relying on subtle clues like the inflection of her voice and the amount of moisture in her eye to dictate your actions? You make no sense.

If no one knows about it it didn’t happen

Lord almighty if I had a dollar for every time a man tried this one on me I would be rich. It goes a little something like this:

Man wants Woman to participate in some type of nefarious action. (It’s usually some kind of inappropriate sexual contact, but it works in all situations). Woman declines; citing the immoral nature of said action. Man dismisses Woman’s concerns about the immorality of said action with the official Man Battle Song: “no one’s gonna know”. Woman points out to Man that committing an egregious act in secret makes the act no less egregious. Man attempts to explain to Woman that nothing counts if no one but the two of you knows what happened. Man (employing illogical tactic number 1) continues to try to convince Woman to participate in nefarious action.

Um fellas? You realize that if you ask a woman to do something that she thinks is wrong, she’ll know she did it, right? We’re all clear on that? So your argument that “no one will know” actually holds zero water. She’ll know and she thinks it’s wrong and she’ll judge herself for it. That’s the only thing that matters. Not just because she needs to be able to sleep at night with a clear conscience, but also and more importantly because do you have any fucking idea how needy a woman is when she’s doing something she feels she shouldn’t? It’s like a full-time job for you to reassure this chick that she’s not going to hell for all eternity because she took a fast beats off you. The lengths that men will go to to put themselves in the position of having to calm a woman in the midst of a morality crisis are just baffling.

It’s not cheating if there’s no fucking

Men come on now. Stop with this shit.  If you take an act that you have explicitly or ipso facto vowed to reserve exclusively for your bona fide and participate in that act with someone other than your one and only; you are cheating in some type of way. We all know what infidelity is and unless you can present me with a signed affidavit from wifey stating that she authorizes you to eat my pussy as long as you don’t stick your dick in it, please miss me with this bullshit illogical argument.

Failing tests on purpose

It goes a little something like this:

Darius and Nina are dating. It’s been a while now and everything is great. They have tonnes of things to talk about, they laugh together, and the sex is all of that. Each of them spends so much time with the other that they have no time left to see other people. So although they have not had “the talk” and are not “official”, they are ipso facto being exclusive.

Nina, a smart woman who knows that nothing counts until it’s official, wants to secure her position. But knowing that initiating “the talk” makes 90% of men run for the hills, she decides to get creative with hers. So rather than coming out and asking Darius to be exclusive with her, she starts dropping hints.

Now Darius is no dummy and knows that Nina is after official exclusivity. And he’s not mad at her for it – in fact he wants it too. But because he believes that Nina is “testing” him, he refuses to pass her test and instead pretends to be oblivious to the clues she’s dropping. Nina, knowing there is no way Darius could be dense enough not to pick up what she’s throwing down, realizes that he’s purposely ignoring her hints and concludes that he must be doing so because he doesn’t want to be exclusive with her. But it isn’t that Darius doesn’t want that, he just doesn’t like the way she handled it. So he decides to take a moral stand by depriving both of them of what they both want.

This is Man Logic in the extreme and every time I encounter it I want to throatpunch the man in question. This is about the dumbest thought process ever. You want something, she’s trying to give it to you, so you pretend not to want it because you don’t like the way she offered it? Get.the.FUCK.outta here. You know what that’s like? That’s like David Ortiz refusing to swing at a perfect pitch thrown by Roy Halladay because Hallday had his left foot forward instead of his right. You totally missed the point.

So that’s my list of the most baffling examples of Man Logic; what say you guys? Women do you feel me? Men – I dare you to convince me that this shit makes sense.

There is no worse moment in your relationship than the moment at which you look up at your partner and think to yourself “I don’t love you anymore”. There you are, in the thick of it, having built a life and habits together, a rhythm and a routine and suddenly it hits you that you just don’t feel what you’re supposed to feel, what you used to feel, what he feels.

The first four or ten or twenty times this thought appears, you push it away. You stuff it to the way back of your mind, bury it underneath mountains of thoughts about your circle of friends, your shared bank accounts, the vacation you’ve planned together six months from now. You imagine the process of disentangling from one another and you’re so weary that you just stop. You press forward. You remind yourself of the good times, make lists of the positive qualities. You remember what life was like when you were single and before she came around, remind yourself how much you don’t want to be out there alone again and you push forward. Until the day comes when the thought just won’t go away.

I don’t love you anymore makes it a chore to walk in the front door at the end of the work day. Makes my laughter at your jokes false, makes my face hurt from fake-smiling at you. I don’t love you anymore so I’ve run out of patience with your idiosyncrasies. I don’t love you anymore so I’m not going to pick your wet towel up from the bathroom floor, I’m going to kick it out of my way and curse you for thinking I’m your fucking maid.

I don’t love you anymore so I don’t want to hear stories about your asshole boss, your work frenemy who complimented your blouse but you could just tell by the way she said it that she didn’t really mean it. I don’t love you anymore so I don’t give a shit about your problems. I’m starting to hate the sound of your voice. I don’t love you anymore so I forget about you. I don’t love you anymore so I have to put alerts in my calendar to remind me to call and see how your day is going. But I don’t love you anymore so five minutes after we get off the phone I can’t remember what you said.

I don’t love you anymore but I care about you. I don’t want to hurt you or crush your plans. I don’t want you to think it’s your fault that I don’t love you, I just….don’t love you. Can’t breathe around you. No longer like the way you make me feel. I don’t love you anymore but I don’t want to leave you. But I don’t love you anymore so I can’t stay.

And that’s all I have to say about that. Any of you guys been there?

So those of you who follow me on twitter might have seen my tweets about my shopping excursion last night. If you missed it, I tweeted that I was on my way to buy some adjustable weights to step up my workout life. Not to go too wildly off-track, but the thing about these weights is that they adjust from 5-25 lbs so if you are a girl like me, they’re really all you need for whatever workout you might be doing.

The other thing about these weights though is that, between the weights themselves, the plate they rest in, and the box they come in, the shit are heavy as…well as shit. And I had to buy two of them. And though I may be a workout junkie, carrying 50+ pounds of weight home is kind of a problem.

Through a complicated dance of carrying them one at a time from the checkout to the sidewalk, then carrying one while pushing the other with my foot to get them to the side of the road, hailing a cab and heaving them in one by one, I managed to get them home. Lugging them one at a time into the lobby of my building and then repeating the carry/push combo, I managed to get them up to my apartment.

Lord almighty buying those weights was a workout in and of itself.

The thing is though that I have no shortage of friends I could have asked to help me. As a matter of fact, one of my most favourite people lives all of 30-seconds from the store and probably would have been more than happy to run out and help me carry them into a cab. I thought hard about asking him to help me, but I refused to do it because to ask for help would be to admit that I needed help.

This is nothing new. At least once a week I’m in the grocery store with a case of water, a couple of loaves of bread, boxes of Crystal Light, and various other items balanced precariously in my arms. And as I stand in line waiting for my turn to rest my haul on the belt, from time to time someone will offer to hold the water for me, or let me rest it on their cart, or let me go ahead of them. And I always say no, with a hint of surprise in my voice, as if the idea that carrying all this shit would be difficult for me had never occurred to me. In reality I’m clenching every muscle in my body in a superhuman effort not to drop anything, but I’d be damned before I ever admit to needing help.

As a woman with many male friends, I hear many many stories about the things women will ask the men they date to help them with. Whether it’s a date for a wedding, a jump start, a picture hung in her apartment, or a stuck zipper that needs some force, women all over the place seem to have no qualms about asking a man they’re dating or fucking to help them with their needs. In fact there are a great number of women in the world who have no problem asking men they are no longer dating or fucking to help them. And while this boggles my mind and offends my overly independent sensibilities, I have to admit I’m not mad at these chicks. Because being a woman who needs help seems to go a long way toward having a man fall under your spell.

It seems that for every woman in the world who is asking a man for help with some shit she could do herself if she was just a little industrious, there is a man who is charmed by her need for help. Whenever I hear a story that starts with “So [Name Redacted] called me and asked me to go to her house and refill her cat’s water dish…”, I’m rolling my eyes in disgust at the pathetic and obvious ploy for attention while said man is continuing on to conclude that after he went to fill the water dish they went to dinner and then spent the night together and they’re going away together this weekend. While my weekends are spent watching Diners Drive-ins and Dives online and hoping that my e-boo will show up on gchat.

Clearly these damsels in distress are doing something right.

Because I am not a man, I’m going to refrain from speculating about what part of a man’s brain reacts positively to a woman in a helpless position. As much as I would like to, I’m not going to make any wisecracks about fragile egos that are boosted by being the knight in shining armour. Nor am I about to make any declarations about how men who find the need for help charming or appealing in women are either threatened by self-sufficient women or have nothing but sheer brawn to bring to the table. Even though I pretty much believe that to be true. Because while all of that may be true, it’s also possible that a woman asking her guy (or “her” guy as the case may be) for help is the concept of “let a man be a man” put into practice. Maybe there is a kind of honesty in saying “please help me”, a kind of bravery in being able to say “I cannot do this by myself” that is all too lacking in all too many women (present company included) and is therefore refreshing and appealing to men when they encounter it. Maybe every now and then all of us strong and capable women who pride ourselves on not needing a man for anything would be better served by humbling ourselves and asking for a hand every now and then.

But what do you guys think? Ladies are you comfortable with asking a man for help? Do you find that men are more interested in you when you appear to be less capable than you actually are? Men – is there some kind of chemical reaction that takes place in your brain when a woman asks you for help? Speak on it in the comments.

Now that it seems as though summer is finally upon us, it’s a must that we touch on the oh-so-important issue of outdoor sex. And since my experience with public thronxing has thus far been limited to a few backshots in club washrooms, I’ve brought in an expert: my girl @hl_bb of herlilblackbook.com. She’s breaking down what you need to know about fucking al fresco.

As those of you who know my life story are already aware, my first love was one of my best friends for years before we ever bumped uglies. As a result, he was thoroughly integrated into my social life. Our friends were our friends and they were all up in the mix of our relationship; smiling fondly at us when things were good, gossiping about us when things were rocky, and gunning for a reunion when things ended.

That was the first and last time I merged my lover and my circle of friends. Since then I’ve kept the two as separate as I possibly can. In the Spectacular Asshole era, some people caught a glimpse of him a time or two, but very few of my friends ever had so much as a 5-minute conversation with him. With the next one – Mr. Max as I like to call him – we had many of the same friends but still made every effort to fly under the radar. We didn’t go to parties together or leave them together, we were never affectionate in public, and we’ve been known to flat-out lie when asked direct questions about what went on between us.

I’ve been single since the demise of Mr. Max and more than ever I strive to keep my dalliances separate from my friendships. I don’t bring my next victim to our parties, don’t launch him on society at our bbq’s. If I’m seeing someone I don’t bring him to weddings or ask him to pick me up at the spot. Blabbermouth though I may be, I keep my ish so low that my closest friends have no clue who is waxing my ass on a regular.

All things considered, I think that keeping your friends and your man separate makes for a more peaceful life. When your friends don’t have a ringside seat for the goings on of your relationship, they’re less likely to make comments and give unnecessary advice. If your boyfriend has never had to sit and listen to your girls squawking like a bunch of magpies, you won’t have to have that annoying conversation with him where he warns you not to tell those girls what goes on between you because they talk too damn much, you swear that you never will, and both of you know you’re full of shit. And if, like me, your social circle is inhabited by dirty birds and habitual line-steppers, your boyfriend doesn’t have to witness the relentless groping and harmless flirtation that you know is meaningless but will set him to swinging.

But as much as I advocate keeping the line between your friends and your lover squeaky clean, at the same time I have to admit to feeling a teeny bit wistful when I see other people seamlessly integrate their significant others into their circle of friends. How nice would it be to be in your homeboy’s living room laughing at some dumbass shit your friends are doing, and looking over at your girlfriend and having an entire conversation with her with just the raise of an eyebrow? What could be nicer than going in for your bff’s birthday and getting pissy drunk, knowing your boyfriend is right there waiting to pick up your shoes and purse, fling you over his shoulder, stuff you in the car and put you to bed? And of course if you are a line-stepper like me, what better way is there to make sure you behave yourself than to have your boyfriend right there watching your every move when you’re out with your rowdy ass friends?

The problem of course with mixing your lover and your friends is when you’re done with that lover but your friends aren’t. Ever had the experience of introducing your man to your friends and the next thing you know he’s more homeboy than you are? And then when you fire him he’s still everywhere you go because your friends love him just as much as they love you. Not a good scene, as I know at least one of my readers will tell you.

Bringing a boy around my boys is the utmost honour I can bestow on a human being. More than succumbing to monogamy, more than introducing him to my family, more than allowing him to sleep over at my house, nothing says you are the real deal than permitting Mr. Max to meet my crazy crew. And so far there’s not a man on earth that has warranted such an honour.

But what do you guys think? Do you believe in mixing your SO with your friends? Have you had this blow up in your face before? Share with me in the comments.

At any given time in a single woman’s life, she has at least three dudes who would love to smash. There’s probably one that stays sniffing at her crotches even though he hasn’t a chance in hell, or a new dude who’s just waiting for a chance to put a hurting on her,or maybe an ex that hopes he can still bone.

In addition to these staple potential pipe layers that most women have going on, every now and then she encounters a special breed of would-be bone: the homey who wants to smash. This dude is friends with someone the woman has a real or imaginary past with, and his so-called principles will not allow him to cross the line. He’s desperate to  beat up the nani and everybody knows it but the Man Code prevents him from doing so

Now the thing about the Homey Who Would Smash is that he comes in two varieties. The good version of this guy wants to blow her back out, knows he can’t because of her history, and so he stays the hell away from her. He respects his friend and respects the rule of the game and most importantly, he recognizes that the flesh is weak. He knows this is the ultimate grimy move and so he’s not going to let himself come within sniffing distance of this chick lest he get a whiff of her ladyflower and lose his fucking mind. That’s the good version of this dude and he is a rare creature indeed.

The bad version of the Homey Who Would Smash is another story altogether. This guy kinda respects his friend and acknowledges the rules of the game while simultaneously trying to beat them. He knows that smashing his homey’s girl is a grimy move and he just does not want to admit that he’s a grimy guy. So instead of being direct and making a move, he will flirt with her. He’ll suggest outings and then later flop the show. He’ll give her the eye, touch her gratuitously, and pay her big compliments that have her grinning for weeks to come. This dude will put in work to make sure the gal knows he what’s on his mind in the hopes that she is grimy enough to  to suggest a stealth smash.

Now the truly bitchass version of the Homey Who Would Smash is going to jump at the first opportunity to bone when it’s suggested to him. His excuse is “She came on to me! What was I supposed to do?”; leaving out of course all the ways in which he lead the horse to the water. This dude is beneath contempt and I’m not going to waste any more keystrokes on him. The more common version of this dude will hold out a bit longer. He’s gonna keep up the cycle of being suggestive and turning the woman down until the sexual tension between them reaches the critical mass at which no one can really fault him for caving in. I mean, there’s only so many times a straight man can turn down pussy before he caves under the pressure. Everybody knows that.

Whenever a man brings up the Man Code in a conversation about boning me I know instantly that he’s ripe for the picking and looking for a reason to believe. A man who truly doesn’t want to cross the line will never let a woman know he’s thinking about crossing it. But the ones who habitually line step and then fling out the Man Code like a shield at the last possible moment? Those guys are full of shit. Catch them in the right situation with enough backs turned and that man will be parting your ovaries quicker than you can say “I’m a shitty friend”.

So ladies, when your ex’s friend tells you that you and he could never be because he cannot violate the Man Code, think of this post and smile in victory because you now know for certain that sooner or later he’s gonna cave.

This is my theory anyway, what do you guys think? Do you share my opinion that a man who brings up the Man Code is just waiting for the opportunity to break it? Men – if you’re really not trying to smash your homey’s ex do you avoid her like the plague or do you flirt and grope her until she’s begging for it? Ladies have you ever encountered this kind of grime? How did you handle it? Speak on it in the comments.

There are a lot of reasons a gal should think long and hard before she allows herself to get locked down into a relationship. The increased necessity of shaved body parts, no longer being able to blame singlehood for why you’re home alone on Saturday night, and forfeiting your right to smash your hottie gym crush if he looks at you the right way. Getting into a relationship can put a serious damper on your life.

But of all the reasons that relationships suck, there is nothing suckier than a relationship ending. Nothing has the power to crush your self-esteem, kill your mojo, and render you into a pathetic snivelling ball of mess like a break up. Except one thing: post break up sex.

Whether it’s with your ex or a next, post break up sex is like the tax the universe puts on all that happiness you enjoyed when you were coupled up. Because no matter how long you wait or with whom you choose to do it, the first bone after a bust-up sucks balls.

Messy and overly emotional, post break up sex is more likely to leave you curled up in a ball sobbing than it is to leave you curling your toes in pleasure. Reactionary and often impulsive, post break up sex more often leaves you questioning your morals rather than congratulating yourself because you still got it. Familiar and yet strange, post break up sex will always leave you pining for the ex you’re still getting over.

Why does it have to be this way? Only the shadow knows for sure, but I think of post break up sex as a lit fire upon which the cauldron of your break up angst rests. Those feelings – the hurt, the embarrassment, the confusion. The missing him and wondering what if and the urge to fling yourself on his doorstep and beg you to take him back, the relief that the fighting is over and the hope that the next guy will be better than he was are all there contained in that cauldron. They’re rubbing up against each other; simmering and increasing in potency. But as long as you keep a lid on it you can pretend it’s not happening and move forward with your life, one crying bout at a time.

But unless you’re planning to hermetically seal your ladyparts and preserve them for all posterity, post breakup sex is a necessary evil that we all must endure on the path to recovery. Like a root canal or a pap smear, it’s one of those extremely unpleasant things we must do for the greater good of ourselves. And like an unpleasant medical procedure, the best way to deal with it is to choose the right practitioner and hope to God the shit is over quick. As a wise woman (um, that would be me) always says “nothing to it but to do it”.

Then you sigh in relief that it’s over and think long and hard before you ever get in a relationship again.

Got a best/worst post-break up sex story of your own?  We want to hear all the details! Post it on our Facebook Page and we’ll randomly toss out some gift packs that includes a limited edition vinyl EP from The Vaccines, some Sailor Jerry Rum swag (it’s really hot stuff we swear) and other fun things from the PinkMafia tickle trunk.

In the meantime, enjoy this video by The Vaccines entitled, Post Break-Up Sex

Confession: I have a thing for your man. Well not yours necessarily, but someone’s man. I don’t know what it is or when this started, but I’m realizing in my old-ish age that I have a real fascination with men who are spoken for.

As a matter of fact, know what I’m probably doing while you’re reading this? Having some kind of nearly-inappropriate conversation with someone’s man. At the time that I wrote this, there are no fewer than 6 boo’d up men that I am in regular contact with. And while my conversations with these men are largely harmless, I do have to wonder what it says about me that I have such a fondness for taken men. Not that I’m a cheater or a home-wrecker, nothing of the sort. I’ve never knowingly been the other woman or tried to steal someone’s man although I am tempted to now that my lover NC-17 has provided me with this brilliant how-to guide.

Most of my interaction with my stable of spoken-for men is virtual and therefore largely harmless. There’s rarely any innuendo and no one is confessing any secret feelings. The vast majority of the time, these conversations are 90% shooting the shit and 10% flirting. But still, their frequency – and the fact that they’re likely kept secret from the men’s significant others – adds an illicit nature to them that I find disconcerting. But also thrilling.

I don’t know what it is about me that is so drawn to other people’s men. I don’t know why a conversation about music with a man with a girlfriend is so much more exciting than the exact conversation would be with one of my homeboys. I don’t know why a compliment from someone’s husband carries so much more weight than the very same compliment from a random. But I know that it is and it does.

To a lot of people, my fondness for taken men is probably indicative of some deep psychological issue. Some people would probably say I have low self-esteem and don’t think I’m worthy of a man of my own. Other people would probably say it’s a control issue, or a way to avoid really getting close to anyone. And while it’s possible that some or all of that is true, I think the real explanation is a lot more simple than that. I’m just a habitual line-stepper, to quote one of my favourite people.

I like to push boundaries. I like knowing that I am so alluring that a man is willing to jeopardize his happy home to be around me. I like to see how far off the path I can inspire someone to go.

In my head though, there is a clear line in my head that I am not willing to cross. As much as I shun marriage and monogamy in my own life, I respect its constraints. And I’m not about to invite bad karma onto my head by knowingly and willingly entering a relationship with someone’s man. But the thing is though that my restraint is really only as good as that of the taken man with whom I’m flirting. And so far I’ve been lucky in that I’ve never been pushed to take that second step over the line. I really don’t know what I would do if any of them ever really tried.

But as long as I’m not boning these men, am I doing anything wrong? If he’s not telling me the nasty things he wants to do to me, is he violating the terms of his relationship? My barometer of appropriateness has always been to imagine what would happen if I were this man’s woman overhearing our conversation. If I think I would be okay with it, I give myself a green light. If not…well to be honest, if not I still give myself a green light, I just know that it’s a green light into the land of inappropriate behaviour.

What do you guys think? Is it okay for a single woman to have frequent contact with a man in a relationship if they are not friends or relatives? Am I really crossing lines or am I worrying too much? What are your standards of behaviour with spoken-for wo/men? Speak on it in the comments.

In the world of media strategy, we use different tactics to elicit different reactions. We might make an ad with a game in it to get people to interact with our brand. Or we might do a big splashy takeover on a popular website to make as many people aware as quickly as possible. Or we might do a radio campaign to make sure people hear our ads as frequently as we’ve deemed optimal. But always we have a baseline media that supports our fancier tactics. Which is not to say that the baseline media doesn’t have a few tricks up its sleeve – it can and often does. But even when it’s not fancy, the baseline media will hit all the right spots and get the job done.

When it comes to sex, the missionary position is your baseline media that supports whatever other moves you make. It’s the foundation upon which your stroke game is based, the launch pad from which you can take flight.

As I’m sure you guys are aware, missionary is by far my favourite position. To me I don’t feel like I’ve been fucked properly if I haven’t spent at least a little time feeling the weight of the man above me, putting something on me.

But just because the missionary is simple it doesn’t mean you can half step your way through it. There’s an art to good fucking missionary and too many men are sleeping on the nuances of this position. And because I am lazy a lifelong devotee to this, my most favourite position, I feel it’s my duty to help men and women alike appreciate this fundamental move.

And since one of the best things about missionary is that the man holds a lot of the power, I would be remiss if I didn’t bring in a male expert to extol the virtues of this position..So I give you the lover, wise man, and fellow missionary-lover, TheMostInterestingManInTheWorld:

One of the disadvantages of being a well endowed man is that sex can sometimes be arduous. If your woman is not used to someone your size, positions like doggy style and reverse cowgirl can cause discomfort. Missionary allows the male to exert full control over just how much is going in at each and every second…

Another awesome part about making missionary love is that it gives you the opportunity to make out while you’re boning. Kissing enhances everything, especially if you know how. I love deep, passionate kissing…

For me, at its core, making love is about intimacy. It’s the most personal form of physical expression we have on Earth and no position is more intimate than missionary. There’s nothing better than looking into your mate’s eyes as you stroke. There’s nothing better than noting the subtleties of a person’s personality only shown during sex: the faces she makes, the way she moans, the way she bites her lip. All of these little things are best experienced up close and personal in missionary position.

Now to those of you who are looking at us sideways right now, unable to believe that missionary is our favourite position (to be in with our respective partners, not each other – just want to be crystal clear on that), allow me to suggest that if you don’t love missionary it’s probably because you’re doing it wrong. Because it’s a lot of wonderful things that can go on in the missionary position. Let us share a few tips with you:

1. Grace the G-Spot. While stroking, if you gently push down on your woman’s lower stomach, in the spot below her belly button but just above where her pubic hair starts, you can stimulate your ladies G-Spot, increasing her pleasure.

2. Alternate speeds. It’s easy to get lulled into the doldrums of stroking at the same pace all the time when making missionary love. Don’t do this. switch up the speed.

3. Don’t Hump, Stroke! Humping is done with your whole body. That’s not cool and not sexy at all. Instead of gyrating your whole body, try to keep your upper body stationary, use your legs as leverage, and stroke from your hips. You penetrate deeper this way and it’s easier to maintain a steady rhythm. Make sure your ab game is official though because it’s definiitely a work out.

3. Long Stroke/Short Stroke . Don’t always go all the way in. One of the most pleasurable things you can do, for both of you, is alternate between long stroking and short stroking. Put the whole thing all the way in, that pull it out to the point that only the head is sitting inside of her, then, look her in her eyes, and ask her if she wants you to put it in. When she says yes, put half in then pull back out and ask her if she wants wants the rest. The slowly but sure plunge the rest of it as deep as you possibly can, thrusting at your hips to get that that last inch in there. Progressively pick up speed till you’re at a steady, consistent pace and there’s a good chance she’ll climax.

Men: Pin her arms above her head. This is a win. Most women like to be held down during sex, you know this, right? So yes, hold her arms down. Kiss her neck and then bite it. Lean down and whisper sweet or nasty things in her ear. Spread her legs wide or squeeze them together. Get up on your knees, wrap her legs around her waist, and pound the dogshit out of her. But not the whole time, nobody likes a jackhammer. Reach under her and grab her ass. Tilt her hips so you can push in deeper. Hit the g-spot and brace yourself for the flood. Vary the pace and the depth of your strokes. And remember – nobody likes a jackhammer. Did I say that already? Nobody likes it. Nobody.

Women: Wrap your legs around his waist. Or if you’ve been doing yoga like I told you to, put your legs up on his shoulders. Stroke his nipples. Suck on his neck, breathe heavy in his ear and entreat him to go faster, harder, deeper. Hold on to his ass and pull him in to you. Stroke his back, graze it with your fingernails, or full-on scratch him if he can take it. Reach down and stroke his balls. Spread your legs as wide as you can (now do you see why I do so much yoga?). Play with your clit. Thrust back – I don’t really need to tell you this, do I? Nobody likes a starfish.

And there you have it. The wondrousness of missionary and some tips to get you there if you don’t already love it. But what say you nasty people? Do you love missionary like I do? What are your tips for making it great? Overshare with us in the comments.

The other night during a phone conversation with a male friend, he casually dropped a bombshell that made me snap to attention in 0.01 seconds. We were talking about the various struggles between men and women and he said “most of the women I meet don’t know if they want to be a dude, a lady, or a little girl”. First I laughed and then I asked him which one women should be aspiring to. And he said the best women are the ones who can be all three at the right time.

For some reason, I find this really interesting. As you guys know, I’m on a quest to become the perfect woman – according to my definition of perfect, that is. And the only thing that’s really been stopping me from getting there is that I’ve never quite been able to pinpoint what perfection really looks like. But after this conversation I felt like I was on to something. So I had to call the asshole back to get him to break this down further. “Explain yourself” I said (I love saying that to people) and what he said next went a little something like this:

The Dude

This type of woman is kind of similar to what my loverblogger NC-17 calls a ratchet. They’re independent, don’t need a man for anything, and consider that a selling point. These women are spirited, they’re funny and they have big personalities. She works hard and when she needs to blow off steam she plays hard too. She’s dirty and she’s not afraid to let you know when the time is right. She looks good but it’s evident that she puts work into it. She can play nicely with other women, but your boys will love her because she’ll voluntarily get the snacks when the game is on and then sit there and watch it with you and you won’t feel the need to censor yourself. You can watch porn with her and be spared inane commentary like “those are fake”. She’s not necessarily bitchy or angry, but she has a very definite line and if you cross it she will let you know. This woman loves her man hard. She’s the kind of woman who will tell you to tell her the pussy is yours when you’re fucking her. But it’s only yours because she wants it to be. And when you’re with this woman and your shit is dragging, she’ll sit next to you and say “okay let’s figure out what we’re gonna do”.

The lady

On the surface the lady seems ideal. Like the dude, she’s attractive, but in a softer way. She has a lot of girlfriends and their weekends are filled with girly activities like mani-pedi’s, shopping, and brunch. They don’t feel compelled to check ESPN to see what time the game is on before they commit to plans because although they tolerate or even like sports, they don’t get hyped about them. She may be nasty, but she’s not gonna let you know it and it will take a lot of work to get her to just let you try it one time and even more work to get her to admit she likes it. She has a career and she cares about it, but not to the exclusion of anything else. There’s not much you’ll want to do that the lady will try to stop you from doing, but she will look at you sideways and sigh loudly when she’s not pleased. She can and does take care of herself but she doesn’t really think she should have to. This woman loves her man sweetly. She’s the kind of woman who will not under any circumstances tell you that the pussy is yours because she doesn’t like that word and believes that men who use it secretly hate women. When you’re with this woman and your shit is dragging, she’ll look at you sideways and ask you “what are you gonna do to fix this?”.

The Little Girl

A lot of men love the little girl because she makes him feel big. She looks good, but what makes her attractive is not the way she looks so much as the way she carries herself. She may not be small in stature, but she’s small in personality and presence. She falls back so you can lead. She has friends, but they aren’t more important than her man. She relies heavily on their advice though, so she will say “even my girls think you were an asshole when you did that” and consider it a valid point in an argument. She might not have a discernible personality, but she’s sweet and she never yells – the most she’ll do is pout when she doesn’t get her way. Not only will you not be watching porn or sports with this woman, she will schedule activities like dinner with her parents during Monday Night Football and whine if you try to get your way out of it. But she thinks you’re the greatest and tells you so often. This woman loves her man obsessively. She’ll tell you the pussy is yours when you’re fucking because that’s what you want her to say and she wants to make you happy. But when you’re with this woman and your shit is dragging, she’s not gonna look at you and say shit because she will have gone off looking for some other man to handle things for her.

And there you have it – the perfect woman is the woman who knows when to be a dude, when to be a lady, and when to be a little girl. I think the asshole might be on to something with this. What do you guys think? Men do you think women should aim to strike a balance between these types or to execute one flawlessly and forsake the others? Women do you identify with one type more than the others? Does that work for you? Speak on it in the comments.

When you are a single woman trying to keep your parts oiled it’s imperative to give some thought to the issue of multiple sex partners. One of the beautiful things about being a dog without a leash is that you’re free to pee on whichever lawn tickles your fancy, but peeing on too many different ones in too short a time period might get you branded the neighbourhood nuisance. But then again, what’s the point in being off your leash if you don’t allow yourself to roam freely?

Now the notion that women should be dating multiple men is nothing new; it makes more sense to cast a wide net, don’t put all your eggs in one basket, etc. etc. Which is all well and good when you’re talking about chaste encounters with gentlemen, but when it comes to bumping against multiple uglies, it’s a bit of a slippery slope.

Personally I’ve never been one to have concurrent sex partners. For one thing, I find the idea fundamentally unhygienic. But beyond that I’ve just never been too good at dating without sex. To be truthfully honest I’m really not good at being in repeated and close proximity to a straight man in any circumstance without wanting to bone.

Hmm that kind of makes me sound like a combination of a whorebag and a nympho, doesn’t it? Let me explain. I’m a very affectionate person. If I like you I will touch you constantly. If I’m attracted to you and constantly touching you I will want to bone you. Therefore it stands to reason that dating multiple men but not sleeping with them is not feasible for me. Plus – like I said, I find it unhygienic. I really can’t stress that enough.

Anyway. There are a great many women in the world who not only date multiple men concurrently, but who also exercise their freedom by getting their swerve on with whoever, whenever. And while I respect theses women for their well-oiled ladyparts, I do feel that we all need to have some kind of multi-peen policy.

Your multi-peen policy is just your own personal code of conduct for how you are going to pull off sleeping with multiple partners without catching a disease, a dependent, or a bad carfax. My personal code of conduct is one line long -I don’t sleep with more than one man at a time – but when you’re drafting yours, here are some things you should consider.

1. Downtime.

There has to be a minimum amount amount of time you will allow to elapse between partners. What you choose is up to you – a day, an hour, a week, as long as it takes for the cum to dry. I’m not telling you what my personal buffer zone is, but my advise to you would be to err on the side of a month, if for no other reason than to avoid a Maury “you are not the father” type of moment.

2. The No-fly zone.

You must determine a minimum degree of separation between your partners. You cannont bang Method Man on Tuesday and Redman on Wednesday That is going to do very bad things to your carfax. Very bad things.

3. Quiet as it’s kept.

Slaying multiple bros is not the move if you are the type of woman who likes to put her business out there. I know you think you’re single and you’re doing you and there’s nothing wrong with it, but it’s not very ladylike to have the whole world know how many different sausages have been in your bun this month. If you can’t keep quiet this is not the move for you.

5. How many is too many?

Hey you’re single and the world is your oyster and you’re free to pursue any opportunity that crosses your path. But it’s one thing to have a Nola Darling-esque rotation of three different dudes, it’s quite another to have more names on your roster than an NFL team. Freedom does not mean be indiscriminate.

6. The hotness of exclusivity.

One of the lovely things about sleeping with only one person is that the exclusivity of your arrangement allows for some heightened hawtness. This is part of the reason that relationship sex often wins over no-strings sex. Remember the scene in The Best Man where Lance was talking about how Mia’s pussy curves to his dick? Being able to tell a man that your pussy belongs to him is a beautiful thing. Hearing him tell you this is also great. But – and this might be overly-sentimental of me to say – the moment is cheapened a little bit when you’re saying it to a different dude every week.

7. To tell the truth.

I personally think it’s kinda gross to give a man the impression that his is the only vehicle passing through your tunnel when he’s not, but then again part of the beauty of being single is that what you do is your business. Don’t ask and don’t tell is usually the move in this situation, but when you’re asked – what do you do? Telling a man that he is a part of a lineup doesn’t seem good for business, but getting caught lying about it is really bad for business. If you’re going to have many trains running through your station you need to have a disclosure policy firmly in place.

And there you have it – things to consider when developing your policy on cuddling multiple cocks. But what say you dear readers? Are you a multi-partner type or a one ting at a time kind of person? What are your policies on sleeping with multiple people? Speak on it in the comments.