Susie Bright's Journal

The Fisting ABC's

0ne of the great misunderstood characters of the world is the woman-loving fist fucker. Her—or his— sexual technique of inserting her whole hand in her lover's cunt is considered physically impossible by some, and bizarre to others.

To those uninitiated to the pleasures of handballing, I invite you in. Don't be ashamed of your sexual inexperience; just remedy it. For those of you who are veteran pussy handlers, grab your lube, because we're about to go public.

If you get aroused through vaginal penetration, you will like being fisted. But if you have never been truly thrilled by fucking, fisting may turn the key. If you are partial to mindshattering orgasms, fisting is a one-way ticket. If you always wanted to have a girl in the palm of your hand—well, here you go.

Fisting, if you had to compare it to anything else, is a natural extension of finger fucking. One day your cunt is hungrier than usual, and three fingers just aren't enough. Not four or five, either.

Putting your curled-up hand in your lover's vagina is intimate. You are all the way inside of your lover; her body is wrapped around your fist like a cocoon. You can feel every tremor originating from her cunt, her ass, and her womb— and she can feel every tiny movement your fingers make. Just twisting your wrist is like the earth moving inside her. If this sounds romantic, you're right. Fisting is incredibly romantic.

Now that we've established the pleasure principle, let's look at some of the misunderstandings.

Vaginal fisting is a whole different activity than anal fisting. The lining of your anus and rectum are very delicate, and while the vagina is not made of steel, it is a tough old broad by comparison.

The anxiety about anal sex often focuses on the possibility of infecting a cut or scratch with feces, but the vagina presents a completely different environment. What this means is that some of the precautions one would normally take with any kind of ass fucking are not relevant to vaginal fisting.

It is not necessary to cut and file your fingernails. It's common sense to keep your claws curled under, whether you're using one finger or five. Wash your little paws like any decent lover would, and if you're worried about infection, or your fingertips getting pruny from the wet heat of your lover's cunt, use a pair of elegant, black, surgical gloves. They're thin enough that you can feel everything, and yet you'll both be protected. I actually like these better than skin, they're so smooth and buttery.

Another myth is that fisting is an S/M activity. Please. Anything can be eroticized by an S/M approach or attitude, but simply lying back and taking it does not make one a "bottom" any more than fucking your lover makes you a "top." A fisting has more in common with petting below the waist than it does with a good whipping.

Continued in Susie Sexpert's Lesbian Sex World, "Fisting"

 

Photo: is cropped. Full photo by Morgan Gwenwald, from "Nothing But the Girl."

How to Ruin A Woman’s Sex Life in 30 Days Or Less

I got a phone call from a Cosmo magazine, asking me to contribute a tip for their upcoming feature, "How to Improve Your Sex Life in 30 Days."  The title of such a venture already gave me some doubts. I hated the whole notion of tightening up your libido the way you would a set of abs.

After a fruitless conversation, I hung up the phone, depressed by their orgasm-indifferent attitude towards women’s sexual pleasure. They thought improving your sex life meant impressing a man, rather than making a significant erotic impression on yourself.

To comfort my wounded soul, I logged on to my freelance writer chat-group online.

"I always get asked the same questions by these women's magazines," I wrote, in the "Pissed-Off" topic. "I wish someone would ask me how to RUIN their sex life in 30 days."

One of my colleagues, Mary Elizabeth, quickly posted her response: "Who needs 30 days?"

How right she is! Destroying your sex life is a snap, compared to enjoying it. I've devised a list of a dozen libido-killing strategies that any seeker of the sex-free lifestyle ought to be able to accomplish well before a month is up.

Ready?

1) Don't admit your sexual desire

Single gals, go ahead and play the dating game all you want— the important thing is to never admit that you have a sexual interest at stake. Shop for the perfect marriage, but make sure that all your efforts are for romance, or God's will. Follow the "Cockteaser Manual” page by page, and rest assured that none of it will make you hot, horny or sweaty. If you make the right match in the proper state of sexual ignorance, you may elude the clutches of lust altogether.

Some of you bad girls who have been around the block may have dabbled in sexual pleasure in the past. It's time to straighten up and fly right. You're a wife and mother now— do you want people to think you're some disgusting slut? If you don't have a headache by now, start sniffing glue.

2) Stay indoors

This is one of those subtle but surefire strategies to shut off unwanted outbursts of sensuality. You don't want to feel the sun on your face. Remember: it's cancerous. Flowers will activate your allergies. Fresh air and exercise might wake your clitoris out of its coma. (If you're the type to stand in the middle of a storm singing "It's Raining Men," there's really nothing we can do for you).

3) Throw your diary in the trash

Self-reflection is a one-way ticket to erotic speculation. One moment you're innocently recording your dreams— and the next thing you know, your pen is scribbling an illicit fantasy. There you are, acting sexy without even taking your clothes off! It's time to stop "expressing yourself," and begin expressing a little self-restraint.

4) Blame it on the kids

This is a tip for the parents among you... 

Continued in Mommy's Little Girl, "How To Ruin a Woman's Sex Life in 30 Days or Less"

Susie Bright's Confession Booth, Approved by the Pope!

Hells' Bells! A new app for the iPhone allows sinners to make an instant confession. The *official* Catholic Church asks the hard questions; you spill the beans.

Using their examination criteria, here's my confession, the first one I've made in 43 years:

 

1st Commandment: I am the LORD your God. Thou shalt not have strange Gods before me.

 

Do I not give God time every day in prayer?  I do not.

Do I not seek to love Him with my whole heart?

I do not. I am an atheist, a lapsed Irish Roman Catholic brought up in the American church of the 1960s when we protested the war and the nuns took their habits off and the priests ran away to become gay liberationists. I named my life story Big Sex Little Death, which is definitely for Catholic tastes.

Have I been involved in superstitious practices?  No.

Do I not seek to surrender myself to God's Word? No.

Have I ever received Communion in a state of Mortal sin?  

The last time I went to confession I was nine years old and the most tearful sin I had on my conscience was my silent anger at my mother and her rules. I also loved the Beatles and I knew our parish didn't approve. 

Have I ever deliberately told a lie in confession or withheld a mortal sin?  

No. I won't start here, either.

 

2nd Commandment: Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord your God in Vain

 

Have I used God's name in vain?  Yes.

Have I been angry with God?  

Is that like being angry with your imaginary friend?

Have I wished evil upon another person?  

 Towards unholy dictators and figureheads, I guess so. I would call this wish, "hostility on public figures who are bad actors."

Have I wished evil upon another person?  Evil is imaginary, like God.

Have I insulted a sacred person or abused a sacred object?

Does a giant rosary hanging amusingly from my bedroom wall count? 

 

3rd Commandment: Remember to keep holy the Lord's Day

 

Have I deliberatly missed Mass on Sunday?  Yes!

Have I tried to observe Sunday as a family day and day of rest?  

I sure try.

Do I do needless work on Sunday?  Lamentably, I do.

 

4th Commandment: Honor thy father and mother

 

Have I neglected my duteis to my husband and children? No.

Have I not given my family good religious example?

I think my religious education efforts have been exemplary.

Do I try not to bring peace to my family life?  

On the contrary, I try a lot. I like peace.

Do I not care for my aged and infirm relatives?

 I care, and am there, and it is heartbreaking.

 

5th Commandment: Thou shalt not kill

 

Have I had an abortion or encouraged anyone to have an abortion?  

Yes, Yes.

I can't believe this is the FIRST question on a 5th Commandment list!

Have I physically harmed anyone?  No.

Have I abused alcohol or drugs?

  As in "killing" someone? Jesus, what is this doing in the 5th? A hangover question? However, my Polly Purebred answer is still no. Drugs aren't my weakness.

Did I give scandal to anyone, leading them into sin?  

By your insinuation, I hope so.

Have I been angry or resentful?  

Yes. You got me. I'm taking years off my life with it, too.

Have I harbored hatred in my heart?

I hate to admit this. Yes. Finally, the one question in this entire examination that causes me guilt and pain.

Have I mutilated myself through sterilzation?

What's with the language here?  I have made it impossible for my uterus to get pregnant, yes. I don't regard that as mutilation.

Have I encouraged sterilization or condoned it? Of course.

 

6th Commandment: Thou shalt not commit adultery

 

Have I been fiathful to my marriage in thought and action?

I'm loyal, but monogamy is not our litmus test.

Have I been guilty of any homosexual activity?  Yes.

Have I used any method of contraception?  All of them!

Have the sexual acts in my mariage always been open to the transmission of new life?

'Fraid not!

Have I been guilty of masturbation?  As charged.

Have I not sought to control my thoughts?  Not the sexual ones, no.

Have I not respected all members of the opposite sex— or have I thought of other people as objects?

I have respected everyone's dignity and humanity, regardless of gender. I don't think we're so "opposite."

What's with the Dworkinite postcript on this? The notion of "people as objects" is inane; it isn't biblical. I would be a lunatic to confuse you with a chair, for example.

I guess this phrase means, "Have I ever gazed upon an image of someone and had a sexual fantasy about them?" Yes, and it is the most human thing in the world.

Do I seek to be chaste? Certainly not.

Am I not careful to dress modestly?  

I take care to dress with great impact.

 

7th Commandment: Thou shalt not steal

 

Have I stolen what is not mine?

No. Okay, so I still have your cute earrings. But you know that.

Have I not returned or avoided making restitituion for what I have stolen?  N/A

Do I waste time at work, school, or home? Yes. Time Bandit!

Do I gamble excessively?

Not at all. I didn't realize it was okay to gamble "a little"! But it's not my thing.

Do I avoid paying my debts promptly?

 I wish I could avoid them entirely, but I am intimidated.

Do I not seek to share what I have with the poor?

I'm a big sharer. It's the most "Roman Catholic" part of me. I'm impressed that the app-priests remembered to put this at the very END of their list. It should be at the top. 

 

8th Commandment: Thou shalt not bear false witness against your neighbor

 

Have I lied?  It's unavoidable. But I'm telling the truth here.

Have I gossiped?  Playfully.

Have I spoken behind someone's back?  To my confidants, yes.

Am I insincere in my dealings with others? No. Terrible at faking that.

Am I critical, negative, or uncharitable in my thoughts of others?

In a bratty way, yes. But in serious terms, I more the empathetic type.

Do I keep secret what should be kept confidential?  Yes.

 

9th Commandment: Thou shalt not covet your neighbor's wife

 

Have I consented to impure thoughts? The very best kind!

Have I caused them by impure reading, movies, conversations, or curiousity?

What is this, my job description?

Do I allow myself to lose control of my imagination?  

WOW. I *live*  to lose control of my imagination.

Do I avoid prayer to banish impure thoughts and tempataions?

I relish poetry to improve them.

 

(But what about "my neighbor's wife"? The priests forgot to ask! I do covet her. Her name is Lindsay. She is awesome).

 

10th Commandment: Thou shalt not covet your neighbor's goods

 

Am I jealous of what other people have?

Well, darn it, yes. But it passes quickly.

Do I envy the families or possessions of others?

When I am feeling sorry for myself, yes.

Am I greedy or selfish?  Greedy, no. Selfish, yes.

Are material possessions the purpose of my life?

No. But that was never a source of esteem in my family.

Do I not trust in God will care for all my material and spiritual needs?

I didn't know this was an option! Please forward His address so I can mail the bills and my grocery list!

"Spiritually," I'm ready for my fork.

 

 

 

Photo: This is the actual day of my First Confession, in 1965. My mother took the snap.

I was very excited, in queue for my First Communion here. I was so psyched to have Jesus placed in my mouth and have a big private talk with him. I was let down and worried when "nothing" happened except the wafer stuck to the roof of my mouth.

I was frighened by the priest in the confession booth, who gave me five Hail Mary's, one Apostles' Creed, ten Our Fathers... this was for the sin of "thinking bad thoughts about my mother's discipline and not truly wanting to do all the dishes."

You see that nun in the background with the aviator shades? She used to hit us across the face. Time for confession, maybe?

When I think about what the Church does to young children, it makes me sick.

 

Why You Must Take the "Casual Sex Survey"

Heather Corinna's sex survey on the subject of "casual sex" and "non-casual sex" is one of the most useful, provocative questionnaires on human behavior I've ever participated in.

If you take this survey, I promise you, it will:
 

a) be one of the most thought-provoking things you do all year.

b) fill in for years of therapy... in fact, therapists should hand it out.

c) make excellent conversation with your lover(s) and best friends(s).

d) help a great research project that is so competent and well-done it will have significant influence.
 

The survey is anonymous— your answers are not connected to a name or address. There is nothing to buy, promote, no strings— how refreshing. This is serious sexual anthropology!

Corinna, the founder of Scarleteen, is seeking a wide spectrum of replies, from every generation, every history. Forget your stereotypes! 

You do not have to have had any particular kind of love life to answer the questions. You simply need to be over 16, and not a virgin. It will not strain your memory. It will not judge you or lead you. It doesn't matter whether you last had sex this morning or 40 years ago. It is just THAT good. 
 

Take it now!

For those of you who took Part 1, (and only you!) here is the Follow-Up Survey, which is much shorter:

Follow-Up Sex Survey, Short

What does Corinna mean by "casual sex"? That term drives a lot of people up the wall, even though we are accustomed to hearing it, along with other persistently vague euphemisms.

For the purposes of this survey, Corinna defines casual sex as: "sex or a sexual relationship that takes place without any mutually agreed-upon, intended or implied commitment beyond the sexual encounter... It does not refer to the way a person feels or the way they think a partner felt about the sexual encounter."

I heard about Heather's survey a few weeks ago and didn't have any expectations. After I went through it, I was so impressed I had to tell everyone I know. 

Have you ever seen me ask you to fill out a survey before? No! This research is really "above and beyond." Paging Dr. Kinsey!

I look forward to talking to Heather later this year as she begins to pull all the data together. 

Here it is, one more time, by its formal name: The MultigenerationalExperiences About Casual Sex Survey.

Photo Credit: Heather Corinna

"Usually Tight" — Barnard Girls Go Wild in the Gilded Age!

While cleaning out my desk this past week, I discovered a wonderful "sex shock" news clipping that a friend in Boston found for me in her collection of early 20th century newspapers.

There is no annual date on the story. I'd guess it's from the late 20s, given the use of flapper language like "getting tight" and "tipplers."

If you recognize the newspaper or can pin down the year, let me know!

The culprit in this tabloid shockeroo was The Jester, a campus humor magazine, founded in 1901. But that the student editors published this survey at all, given the era, was quite scandalous:

Girls Answer Quiz on Purity

Barnard Students Admit Necking and "Soul Kissing"

New York, Oct.22— Answers to an amazingly frank "purity test" taken by girl students at Barnard College were published in the Columbia Jester at the university today. Shocked professors immediately ordered the magazine suppressed.

Within 45 minutes, however, the ban was lifted by Dean Herbert E. Hawkes. He made no explanation.

The test went to the ultimate of candor— and in publishing it, the authors of the Jester article inferred that some of the questions were too hot to print. 

They reported that: 51% of the 70 girls considered "one or more propositions to be contrary to their honor; that more than 50% indulge in necking; that 34% practice the "soul kiss"; that 49% had kissed ten different men; than 29% have gone out with other women's husbands, and that no one would answer the question: "Have you ever swum nude in mixed company?"

Of the group, the authors reported that 80% were smokers and 66% tipplers. Answering the question: "Have you ever been tight?" 38 wrote "no," 32 wrote "yes." Of those answering in the affirmative, 14 said they had been tight once, 14 said they had been tight often, and four said that they were "usually tight."

I Wish I'd Never Heard of the G-Spot... and Louisiana on My Mind

"Don't you just love these long rainy afternoons in New Orleans when an hour isn't just an hour - but a little piece of eternity dropped into our hands... and who knows what to do with it?"

-Blanche DuBois, "A Streetcar Named Desire"

Today, on my In Bed podcast, I talk about my enchanted trip this month to New Orleans— my first since the storm. I'm still as in love with this city as the first day, twenty years ago, that I stepped foot into the spellbound eternity that Tennessee Williams describes so well.

You know what struck me about N.O. today? It was a comparison. Look at the rest of the country— we're paralyzed with anxiety about the ensuing economic collapse and environmental chaos. We're so afraid, we smell bad.

In the Gulf, in New Orleans, everyone left standing has BEEN there and DONE that. And they've got the Army Corps of Engineers tattoo on their shingle to prove it.

They've seen the worst; every day is a little bit better. They were abandoned by the federal zookeepers, left for dead, no joke. But you know what? This city won't quit. You can't kill a a bloom that's been seeded for centuries. You can't deny a flood of endurance, nor the hearts that stitched themselves together when no one thought they could keep ticking. This is the Eternal Krewe. They stomp on.

I once said that while the rest of the United States lives and dies on its work ethic, New Orleans survives and thrives on a pleasure ethic. Friends, neighbors, family— and the wee and languid hours you spend with them— that's what makes something last when you're in the middle of a disaster area. You can't buy it, and you can't strive for it. You have to live this way, you have to care about beauty, and ritual, sensuality, and communality.

The fact that Southern Louisiana and Mississippi are still standing, partying, fucking, cooking, and making music together, is testimony to a human spirit that survives out of sheer spite— and true love. This is a community of survivors. They're the early adopters of Armageddon. I found it relaxing.

I got my first decent night's sleep in months, listening to the streetcar roll by. I dreamed such wonderful pleasures. I woke up and the air smelled good.

Sure, everyone has PTSD.  There's an unspoken understanding of giving one another some room to be a little crazy, a little extra time to unfold.  "Be Nice or Leave" said the sign in many bars and eateries I walked into, and I found that advice to be just the right temperature. Everyone's been through so much here, they don't need an impatient fool's conceit or drama.

The formal reason for my appearance in this fair city, was to give a lecture at Tulane University, which I called "Beyond the Vagina," in honor of the 10th anniversary V-Day celebrations that Eve Ensler organized for New Orleans the week I was there.

What's beyond the Vag? Everything, frankly. The anatomy lesson doesn't take that long.

I met hundreds of Tulane students and faculty during my visit, and among many conversations, I asked them to indulge me in  one of my anonymous sex surveys. I ask them, among other things,  to jot down a question that might not be the easiest thing to ask on the mike, in front of everyone.

I've written the complete list here, separated by gender and age.

There's plenty to discuss, and I'll blog more in the coming days. Every campus should have a sex center/hotline/dropin where every single one of these questions gets addressed. None of them are inexplicable!

One thing I've observed lately is that women and men of every age, are obsessed with that erotic unicorn, the Grafenberg-Spot. It's hardly Louisiana; it's an American obsession.

I wish I'd never brought up the darn G-Thingy twenty years ago when I was one of the first to start writing about it. Talk about a backlash....

  Listen to an excerpt 

Listen to the whole show at Audible.com: LINK

Get the show free for a month: LINK

I'll be crunching the rest of my survey numbers in the coming week, and look forward to more sex ed discussions!

Finally, thank you, especially, to the magi-eloquent Crystal Kile, the inspired Charlotte D'Ooge, the revelatory Mimi Schippers, and the silver-tongued Jonno, for their more-than-hospitable care of me during my stay. You know I'm coming back...

In Bed Goodies...Don't forget, you can send your confidential questions, feedback about the show, and requests for free show coupon cards to [email protected] (Episode 337, April 18, 2008)

Photos: Vivien Leigh, from the 1951's Streetcar... and the "Katrina Warriors" from the Newcomb Institute who put Susie on the table.

The Bathroom Sex Sex Survey

Okay, you asked for it!

What is your gender, at least at the moment?

Have you ever had sex in a public bathroom? What did you do? (Define "sex" as you like).

More than once, several times, every day?

Did you have your t-room sex with a man or woman?

Did you know them, or were they a stranger to you?

Have you ever had sex in a "private" bathroom— but one which wasn't at your house?

Have you ever had sex in your own darn bathroom?

Have you had bathroom sex fantasies, never acted upon?

Have you ever run into anyone having bathroom sex, while you were just "doing your business?" Have you ever been propositioned and turned someone down? Was it hard to say, "No, thank you?"

Have you ever run into a high level Republican pol having bathroom sex?

Are you gay? (Just kidding).

We'll make this easy. I'll go first, with my answers in the first comment.

You don't have to use your real name in the comment form.

Just post a fake name and a fake email (like [email protected]) if you want to keep your privacy.

Of course, you're welcome to take complete and honest credit, as well!

I await your complete and candid disclosure!

There Were Two in the Bed, and the Little One Said, MOVE OVER!

Remember the impertinent line, "Do you like to sleep in the nude?"

Today, the rejoinder has a twist: "Yes, I always sleep in the nude— by myself!"

The Times has ripped the covers off  (sorry!) yet another shocking trend that I seem to be a part of: couples who don't sleep the night together, who have separate beds or rooms to get their forty winks.

Apparently, it's all the rage, but strictly on the QT— as spouses are afraid to give the appearance of not liking each other, or giving up on sex.

If they'd interviewed me, this is what I would've said:

Do you sleep the night with your lover?

No, not since we moved in together, when I was in my mid-30s. I sleep in my own room, and own bed.

What happened?

I was sleep-deprived since my first pregnancy, but when my partner's snoring kept me awake, I lost my last shred of equilibrium. One day I said, "I love you to death, but if I don't get to sleep at night, I'm going to kill you."

Is it all his fault, the snoring?

No. At this point, I can't sleep well with anyone. Not my daughter, not my ex, not my best friends. I'm bad in bed. I look back on the time I slept with six people in a three-person tent on a wood pallet in ten inches of Alaska rain, and think, "How did I do it?"

How does it affect your sex life?

It's essential, it's great. I associate being in bed together with making love, fooling around, cuddling, napping, talking, being close... not agonizing hours lying awake.

It's fun to visit each other's bed chambers. We have really different environments.

So it's not just the bed, it's the whole room?

Yeah, my room is my solace, the place where everything suits me.

Don't you ever accidentally fall asleep together?

Sure, for a few hours, it's delicious. But then one of us always wakes up.

What about traveling?

That's hard. When we visit folks who don't know us well, they look a little alarmed, as if we were getting a divorce. It's only by observing us be affectionate with each other that they relax. I've had lots of people tell me they want to do the same thing, but they're afraid of such a notion being taken as an insult. It's a  silly misapprehension, but I understand... I had to screw up my courage in the beginning, too.

The real hardship is that "two beds" simply demands more room, and I do feel guilty about that. "I'm a spoiled pig, a princess who has to have her forty mattresses and still bitches about a pea." I wish I could sleep through anything, absolutely anywhere, as I did as a kid.

In hotels, we ask for King-size, a fun novelty. I also partake in white noise, earplugs, Ambien for the worst nights, recordings of crickets on the river I took from camping last year, etc.

Did it hurt Jon's feelings when you first asked to separate beds?

He believed me and my intentions— but yes, he thought it was weird, and maybe a bad sign... like, what's next? But that changed really fast. Once well-rested, sanity returns. Now he's just as hardcore, as covetous of his bed as I am of mine.

Do you ever sleep or have sex on your partner's bed when he's not there?

I love to sleep on his bed when I'm missing him, when he's not home. It makes me pine, in a good way.

Solo sex, sure. I feel completely comfortable there. Other people? For some reason, my bed has been the social spot of the house, for chatting, eating, reading, sex, working, whatever. I've think I once had a banquet and simultaneous dance party on my queen-size mattress. My lover's bedroom is more hidden, and quiet— no one goes in there except us. I hadn't thought about that until right now...

Do you, like some of the experts in the article, chalk up  the sleeping separation to your mobility and independence as a "modern" woman?

That was very provocative, but no, it never occurred to me. I thought I was just a hormone-wrecked post-baby lunatic who never bounced back. Every year I become more a fussbudget, as much as I try to hide it. I yearn to be easy-going— both awake and asleep— but apparently I'm just part of the overstimulated mob!

So how are you sleeping?

RU Sirius Tweaks Susie Just For Fun

R.U. Sirius is responsible for my first smart drug overdose. I became unreasonably horny on something that started with a 'G', allegedly from R.U.'s stash.

I was in a recording studio, when someone handed me the glass of Kool-Aid, and... minutes later, I was deeply frenching a woman who was trying to mike me for a serious interview.

I knocked over a table and then had to be put to bed with Playboy magazine, where I collapsed in helpless laughter.

Je regrette rien! My affection has never ended for R.U.'s pioneering spirit, his cyber-magnificent collaborations, and my memories of Mondo2000.

Before last week, I last saw Ken (R.U.) with Kathy Acker at a Robert Redford film screening of Quiz Show— an excellent conspiracy film. I never saw beloved Kathy again, but when R.U. invited me be his guest  on his new freewheeling podcast, I jumped.

Here's a couple audio clips of the fun we had:

Part 1, Excerpt, Life as an Expert Sexpot

Listen to the whole show: Link

Part 2, Excerpt, Experienced Women Talk About Psychedelics and Sex

Listen to the whole show: Link

BlogHer Sex Survey Results

This post is for the women at the Blogher conference that I just attended. We had a session about sex and blogging that I thought was the best, and most controversial session of the gathering.

I decided to throw together  an  Un-Official, Un-Authorized, Blogher Sex Survey! 

If you were at the conference this weekend, please jump in. Everyone else is welcome to read along. I thought it would be interesting to just get a base-line temperature of Blogher sex histories.

(To comment, you can use a fake email address—feel free to be anonymous).

Do you ever write about your erotic life or philosophy on your blog?

Do you use your real name, or are you anonymous?

How old are you?

Do you like men, women, or both?

Do you masturbate?

Do you orgasm?

Do you have sex with a partner/lover these days?

Have you ever been pregnant?

Have you ever had an abortion?

Have you ever had kids?

Have you experienced menopause?

What’s the first erotic/sexy picture or story you ever laid eyes on?

The photos above are all taken by wunderkind Guy Kawasaki at Blogher, and the groovy widgit is from FilmLoop. You'll find me in there, standing next to Phil Hollows of my email alert system, Feedblitz.