K.C. Cave's Blog, page 5
October 20, 2015
The End of the Run (flash fiction)
Bad enough that the minx playing Lola was meltingly hot as she slinked and cooed across the stage in our community theater production of Damn Yankees! Tonight, the final performance of our two-weekend run, Tanya, the music director with the incredible jugs, showed up with a neckline that plunged to her navel.We were nowhere near the end of the first act and I was lubricating. It wasn’t easy being a female bass player, stuck in the back of the pit, with the best view in the house—the onstage vamp with the long legs and devouring eyes, and the music director with the oversized bosom and too many curves.
At intermission, I was rubbing into my bass book like it was my clit—I wished it were my clit—as I erased my penciled notes. Tanya, standing barely ten feet away at the podium, was doing the same thing. It’s a last-performance ritual. This way, the next set of suckers don’t have to read our notes. No, pit orchestras don’t get paid.
The eraser slipped out of my hand. I’m in pit black, a geeky shirt buttoned to the throat (not much to see, alas, even if it was halfway unbuttoned) and silk pants that showed off my best attribute.
I slid off my stool and leaned over to pick it up, giving Tanya an unrestricted view of my tight, curvy ass. Desperate? Maybe. But it’s the final show. It’s now or never. Getting back to my seat, I saw Tanya avert her eyes.
Throughout the second act, I’m paying less attention to Lola and more attention to Tanya. And, I’m getting wetter.
Applause, bows, exit music, baton down, the house lights went up. The show has ended. “Any volunteers to help tear down the pit?” Tanya asked as the twelve-member orchestra packed up. I waved my hand.
I folded chairs, collected music stands, put the stand lights in a box and helped Tanya put away the black fabric curtain, waist-high, that separated the orchestra from the audience. Her hands kept touching mine as we folded.
Five minutes later, it was just Tanya and me. The rest of the orchestra had gone home, and the cast would come back in the morning to tear down the set. As I leaned over to pick up my gig bag, the nylon behemoth that houses my double bass, I sensed Tanya approach.
Her hand went to my ass, enveloping my right cheek. It was a perfect fit. I stood and turned, and she pulled me in. “See anything you like?” she said, breasts heaving, and kissed me, hard.
I yanked down her dress and freed her tits. My agile fingers found her nipples and twisted and squeezed. I buried my face in the heavy warmth of her magnificent bosom. Tanya moaned as her other hand found my left cheek. She nearly lifted me off the floor.
“Where?” She sounded desperate.
“Here,” I said, kicking my gig bag open—it’s fully five feet long and nearly as wide, and fully padded to protect my twenty thousand dollar instrument, propped in a nearby corner. I pulled Tanya down next to me.
I divided my attention between her two perfectly rounded domes. Her nipples, perky and creased, swelled as I coated them with my saliva, spreading it out with my tongue, her brown buds hard against my lips.
I sucked and swirled my tongue, manipulating her nipples to solid black bullets—little titty hard-ons. With her large areolas and erect nipples, the tips of her breasts were about the size of one of my small (but perky!) tits.
As I made love to her with my mouth, my hands caressed her incredible mounds. I marveled at their size, rolling and kneading their massiveness in my palms. Tanya whimpered as I pushed my knee between her legs, spreading her open for me.
I attacked her cunt with my middle finger as she lay in the middle of my black gig bag, splayed like a whore. She was soaked, just like me. Her clit was distended, standing at attention. I slid farther down her wet folds and slipped one, and then two fingers into her cave of wonders.
I went crazy. I had been watching this over-endowed diva for three weeks, if you include rehearsals, as she waved her baton and leaned forward to turn the pages of her score, revealing her charms. Now, she was responding to my rhythms, my beat. I was setting the tempo.
Her pussy muscles clenched against my fingers and she came, her torso jerking violently as wave after wave of sexual energy jolted through her frame. I buried my tongue into her mouth, muffling her frantic moans as I furiously fucked her with my hand, oblivious to her crashing orgasms.
Girl cum ran down my wrist in streams. I grabbed a cotton cloth I used to wipe the rosin off my bass strings and soaked up the watery spunk. My nostrils filled with the smell of pussy musk and Tanya’s hormonal reek.
Her breathing slowed as the tension inside her let go. I pulled up on her shoulder and reached around, undoing her bra and pulling off her top. Tanya lifted her hips and wiggled as I tugged her skirt and thong down past her knees. She was essentially nude, prostrate in the middle of the auditorium. Her cunt was red, wet and swollen, an open wound.
I peeled off my shirt and bra, then shimmied out of my pants and bikini bottoms. Planting myself over Tanya’s face, I spread my knees and lowered my gaping pussy to her face.
“Any last words?”
“Are you available for Little Women? Rehearsals start next month.”
“Civil War lesbian incest? You bet. Eat me!”
The End
October 2, 2015
Reviewed: Trans Action
My latest erotic short, Trans Action, was reviewed by E-Read Erotica Reviews (http://ereaderotica.com/?p=5519). Just a brief excerpt: "The sex in this book is just so damn sweet I can’t resist. We have a woman showing a newly transitioning T – girl how it is to make love to a woman for the first time. It gets graphic and detailed, yet it still has a wonderful warmth and sweetness to it that I just have fallen in love with. This is a pretty unique book, one about someone who is between sexes learning how to love another person. I did get a thrill out of this as well, so the heat is well-written and it set the pot to boil for me."
September 28, 2015
Carnaltopia, the new kid on the (erotica-distribution) block
From an erotica author's perspective, Amazon is both an amazing opportunity (to self-publish and potentially reach a wide audience) and a royal pain in the ass. Because it's big and powerful and it can, Amazon's morality police are constantly on the prowl, enforcing vague and ever-shifting policies on the flavors of erotica that customers are allowed to see on its website.
For example, no sex with animals. And no incest. No allusions to them, either. Put "daddy" in an erotica title and see what happens (it's ugly). Write about what Amazon considers to be illicit sex and not only will it remove the book, it can (and often does) ban accounts, meaning the author cannot publish with Amazon again. Out of business.
What's wrong with incest or bestiality erotica? Neither kink interests me, so I shouldn't care. But step back a moment. If an author writes an erotica story about, say, a brother and a sister engaging in sex, it's just a story, right? It's not an endorsement of real incest (which, I suspect, is almost always extreme sexual abuse). It's not suggesting that you have sex with a sibling.
Human beings are complicated. We have fantasies that are difficult to express -- thoughts and desires we don't bring up around the dinner table or with colleagues at work. We think about things that we would never (or could never) do in real life.
That's why incest erotica (just to pick on one kink) is called fiction. It's a fantasy. It's a way some people like to get off, both writers and readers.
And you're an adult. Why have Amazon (and most other book distributors) stand in your way? Filtering your choices? Censoring what's available to you? Why should a corporation in thrall of who-knows-what (fundamentalists? the chamber of commerce? Catholic priests?) determine what you see when you shop for erotica?
Along comes a new ebook distributor, Carnaltopia (http://www.carnaltopia.com/index.php). It offers two things: First, its authors and stories are vetted for quality. If you shop for erotica online, you know there's an incredible amount of dreadful stuff out there. I'm talking bad at the most basic level -- bad grammar and spelling, lousy sentence structure and just plain unprofessional writing that shows writers' contempt for their audiences. Carnaltopia, in a refreshing (and long overdue) change of pace, only lists high quality erotica (and, yes, I made the cut (http://www.carnaltopia.com/index.php?...)).
Secondly, and to my first point, Carnaltopia is not restrictive in its (legal) subject matter. You'll find topics that you won't find at most other online retailers (and which, of course, you're under no obligation to buy). It's a start-up, and the site's catalog of erotica will continue to grow.
Now you can shop for ebooks at an erotica distributor that treats you like an adult. A final point: The prices are the same as that other place.
For example, no sex with animals. And no incest. No allusions to them, either. Put "daddy" in an erotica title and see what happens (it's ugly). Write about what Amazon considers to be illicit sex and not only will it remove the book, it can (and often does) ban accounts, meaning the author cannot publish with Amazon again. Out of business.
What's wrong with incest or bestiality erotica? Neither kink interests me, so I shouldn't care. But step back a moment. If an author writes an erotica story about, say, a brother and a sister engaging in sex, it's just a story, right? It's not an endorsement of real incest (which, I suspect, is almost always extreme sexual abuse). It's not suggesting that you have sex with a sibling.
Human beings are complicated. We have fantasies that are difficult to express -- thoughts and desires we don't bring up around the dinner table or with colleagues at work. We think about things that we would never (or could never) do in real life.
That's why incest erotica (just to pick on one kink) is called fiction. It's a fantasy. It's a way some people like to get off, both writers and readers.
And you're an adult. Why have Amazon (and most other book distributors) stand in your way? Filtering your choices? Censoring what's available to you? Why should a corporation in thrall of who-knows-what (fundamentalists? the chamber of commerce? Catholic priests?) determine what you see when you shop for erotica?
Along comes a new ebook distributor, Carnaltopia (http://www.carnaltopia.com/index.php). It offers two things: First, its authors and stories are vetted for quality. If you shop for erotica online, you know there's an incredible amount of dreadful stuff out there. I'm talking bad at the most basic level -- bad grammar and spelling, lousy sentence structure and just plain unprofessional writing that shows writers' contempt for their audiences. Carnaltopia, in a refreshing (and long overdue) change of pace, only lists high quality erotica (and, yes, I made the cut (http://www.carnaltopia.com/index.php?...)).
Secondly, and to my first point, Carnaltopia is not restrictive in its (legal) subject matter. You'll find topics that you won't find at most other online retailers (and which, of course, you're under no obligation to buy). It's a start-up, and the site's catalog of erotica will continue to grow.
Now you can shop for ebooks at an erotica distributor that treats you like an adult. A final point: The prices are the same as that other place.
September 2, 2015
Can you get addicted to your vibrator?
Or maybe the question should be, Can you get addicted to masturbating?
I think not. Well, maybe if you’re always late for work and can’t hold down a job because you can’t leave the house in the morning because you’ve got to rub one off. And another. And another.
But I didn’t get to ask the question. Erotica writer Rachel Kramer Bussel did, in Dame Magazine, Can You Become Addicted to Your Vibrator? (http://www.damemagazine.com/2015/09/0...)
For one lady, the answer is yes. She got hooked on her Hitachi Magic Wand. Who wouldn’t? It’s the real class act of vibrators.
But addicted? Really?
The recurring argument is that some women prefer their vibrator(s) to people. And the problem is…?
As one expert said, “Use of a vibrator is momentarily satisfying. But it doesn’t answer the need for a partner to hold you, converse with you, commiserate with you, and love you.”
Sure. Right. And it doesn’t rule it out, either. And considering that half of the human race has a lousy track record with satisfying the other half…spending eighty bucks for a quality vibrator makes a lot of sense.
Bussel quotes a woman saying that masturbation is “under attack.” Sexual intercourse is better. Using a vibrator to induce an orgasm before falling asleep is selfish. Fingers are better.
WTF?
People, get real. First off, who has only one vibrator? I’ve got a drawer full (and lots of batteries, too). And, yeah, the Hitachi. I mix it up. I use my fingers. A lot. I go back and forth. I jill off in the tub with a hand shower (gawd!). Ever gotten off riding your washing machine during the spin cycle? Use your imagination!
Masturbation is selfish? Really? Then masturbate with a friend. Think of how much better the world would be if people got together just to masturbate. Movies. Outside. Barbecues. Watching sports on TV. Why the hell not?
Loosen up. Take off your clothes. Have fun. Get off. Enough with the guilt.
The first comment after the article by Dangerous Lilly, though, nailed it.
This is something I feel very strongly about. For YEARS I wasn’t orgasmic or, if I was, it was such a mild orgasm that I didn’t recognize it. I didn’t learn what a clitoral orgasm felt like until I bought my first vibrator in my late 20’s. I started out thinking I needed the Hitachi but over time have refined it to “pinpoint and rumbly” vibrator. The kicker? I’m now able to orgasm much more easily through fingers alone (or even a more mild vibrator) than before. It seems to have rebooted nerve endings for me. So to be told that I’m broken for needing a vibrator 95% of the time is hurtful and just plain wrong. I think one can get “addicted” to the endorphin rush and ease of an easy orgasm, but not the vibrator itself.
Thank you.
I think not. Well, maybe if you’re always late for work and can’t hold down a job because you can’t leave the house in the morning because you’ve got to rub one off. And another. And another.
But I didn’t get to ask the question. Erotica writer Rachel Kramer Bussel did, in Dame Magazine, Can You Become Addicted to Your Vibrator? (http://www.damemagazine.com/2015/09/0...)
For one lady, the answer is yes. She got hooked on her Hitachi Magic Wand. Who wouldn’t? It’s the real class act of vibrators.
But addicted? Really?
The recurring argument is that some women prefer their vibrator(s) to people. And the problem is…?
As one expert said, “Use of a vibrator is momentarily satisfying. But it doesn’t answer the need for a partner to hold you, converse with you, commiserate with you, and love you.”
Sure. Right. And it doesn’t rule it out, either. And considering that half of the human race has a lousy track record with satisfying the other half…spending eighty bucks for a quality vibrator makes a lot of sense.
Bussel quotes a woman saying that masturbation is “under attack.” Sexual intercourse is better. Using a vibrator to induce an orgasm before falling asleep is selfish. Fingers are better.
WTF?
People, get real. First off, who has only one vibrator? I’ve got a drawer full (and lots of batteries, too). And, yeah, the Hitachi. I mix it up. I use my fingers. A lot. I go back and forth. I jill off in the tub with a hand shower (gawd!). Ever gotten off riding your washing machine during the spin cycle? Use your imagination!
Masturbation is selfish? Really? Then masturbate with a friend. Think of how much better the world would be if people got together just to masturbate. Movies. Outside. Barbecues. Watching sports on TV. Why the hell not?
Loosen up. Take off your clothes. Have fun. Get off. Enough with the guilt.
The first comment after the article by Dangerous Lilly, though, nailed it.
This is something I feel very strongly about. For YEARS I wasn’t orgasmic or, if I was, it was such a mild orgasm that I didn’t recognize it. I didn’t learn what a clitoral orgasm felt like until I bought my first vibrator in my late 20’s. I started out thinking I needed the Hitachi but over time have refined it to “pinpoint and rumbly” vibrator. The kicker? I’m now able to orgasm much more easily through fingers alone (or even a more mild vibrator) than before. It seems to have rebooted nerve endings for me. So to be told that I’m broken for needing a vibrator 95% of the time is hurtful and just plain wrong. I think one can get “addicted” to the endorphin rush and ease of an easy orgasm, but not the vibrator itself.
Thank you.
August 28, 2015
10 reasons to rub one off
While I personally don't need 10 reasons to self-pleasure, no doubt in this repressed society there are folks who could use some convincing that masturbation is a wonderful activity. If that's you, check out 10 Wicked Reasons You Should Be Masturbating More Often (http://mytinysecrets.com/10-wicked-re...) by Alexandra Jamieson (http://alexandrajamieson.com/).
As Jamieson points out, "Masturbation...has developed a bad reputation mainly because religion and culture tell us it’s a sin. As a result, many of us feel at least some trace of shame, guilt, or even fear when practicing this very natural act."
Her reasons---all common sense, and all making a good case to stop what you're doing right now and play with yourself, and none of them wicked---include relaxation, physical healing, a better appetite, more self confidence, and keeping your sex life active if you're not involved with another person.
What would I add? Masturbate outdoors for the best self-pleasuring experience. And masturbate with another person for an added kick.
The bottom line? Just masturbate!
As Jamieson points out, "Masturbation...has developed a bad reputation mainly because religion and culture tell us it’s a sin. As a result, many of us feel at least some trace of shame, guilt, or even fear when practicing this very natural act."
Her reasons---all common sense, and all making a good case to stop what you're doing right now and play with yourself, and none of them wicked---include relaxation, physical healing, a better appetite, more self confidence, and keeping your sex life active if you're not involved with another person.
What would I add? Masturbate outdoors for the best self-pleasuring experience. And masturbate with another person for an added kick.
The bottom line? Just masturbate!
August 2, 2015
Reviewed: The XXX Weekends
Junie placed her curled fist in Melanie’s outstretched hand. “Remember your promise?” Junie whispered. Tendrils of arousal blossomed in the pit of Melanie’s belly. Melanie had her price, though: She wanted a weekend alone with Michael, Junie’s caged husband. And Junie had her requirement: Melanie must sleep with her black bull to prepare her for the women’s XXX weekend in D.C., where they would celebrate the legalization of gay marriage on a pretend honeymoon.
[MF, FF, romantic, fisting, squirting, interracial, big black cock, cuckold]
E-Read Erotica Reviews (http://ereaderotica.com/?p=5384): Creatively hot, oozing with sexual tension and desire, this book is a masterfully written slice of pure, seething desire and lesbian lust. A let’s pretend trip between two women to Washington DC leads to one of them discovering her absolute limits of her passion and how far they can be stretched, only to have her inhibitions broken and a torrent of emotion unleashed. Not to be missed, and an incredible entry in this red-hot series.
August 1, 2015
Public sex: Fear and arousal
K.C. Cave Public sex? Love it! Have I done it a lot? Hm, gotta think...
What got me on the topic of public sex? An article on AlterNet, Do You Like Having Sex in Public?(http://www.alternet.org/sex-amp-relat...) by Carrie Weisman:
For one, it’s thrilling. It’s a rush. And that alone can get your blood pumping. Intimacy coach Rebekah Beneteau told me over the phone, “There is some link in the brain between the systems of fear and arousal. If you think about the physiological symptoms of fear – the sweating, the elevated heart rate, the butterflies in the stomach – all of that is very similar to the feelings of turn on.”
Fear and arousal -- I like that!
Because you don't want to get caught!
I fucked on a beach picnic table in the shadow of Mt. Shasta in Northern California. It was a full moon, the campground's beach was closed (we sneaked in), and it was ten at night. It was fast. And fun! And I came!
...there is one downside to public sex: you have to be quick about it. Beneteau told me, “One of the things I don’t like about public sex is that it reinforces that ‘wham-bam, we’ve got to get this over with quickly before we get caught’ thing that a lot of people had from their masturbation life as teenagers. And then they wonder why they can’t have long, slow sex.
That's not much of a downside, if you ask me. Quickies are fun. Just not all the time.
Other places? A fishing pier in the Atlantic just north of Charleston, S.C. It was at night. We didn't fuck, but did everything but P.I.V. (penis in vagina) sex -- super passionate kissing, breasts out, finger-fucking, cock sucking. Then back to our condo, where we fucked for hours.
Finger-fucking and blow jobs in cars! That started in high school, of course. Long interstate drives in particular lend themselves to this. I've learned something about myself: If I'm the recipient, I can't be driving! Drive-in movies during high school: I'd jump in the back seat, rip off my clothes, make some guy deliriously happy, and never know what the feature was! Not all that public, considering that the car windows invariably steamed up.
Long hikes in the woods lend themselves to finding a secluded spot, getting nude and fucking (see the photo above). Solo hikes? I masturbate all the time. Not terribly public, but the fear of discovery is always there -- especially if you take all your clothes off (and I invariably do).
I've often fantasized finding a secluded spot on a bike ride in a rural area and trysting with a lover. Alas, I haven't done it yet. But I played out a bicycle sex fantasy in my erotic short, Ravished by the Trooper.
I went hog wild with public masturbation in Alison's New Toy. The new toy was a strap-on vibrator with a remote -- "a garage door opener for her vulva" that allowed my fuck-junkie main character to masturbate in very public places: a park, the woods, the supermarket, the mall, and in her car (and gets pulled over by a sexy woman cop; the seduction scene was in a cheap interstate motel). Alison uses her new toy in Upping the Ante to prep her pussy for a back-of-the-bar serial gangbang on a busted pool table with a bunch of steel workers, too.
Another kind of public sex is on weekend getaways with friends. I have a vivid memory of sharing a beach condo with a couple (in a nonsexual way) and masturbating my brains out in my room. Absolutely no way did they not hear me through the condo's paper-thin walls (I'm a screamer). No one, of course, said a word in the morning.
That's probably as close as I got to being "caught," in that I know someone else saw or heard my sexual frenzy. And I have a clean arrest record!
Okay, enough of my memories of public sex (and shameless self-promotion). What about you? C'mon, share your most outrageous memory (or fantasy!) of public sex.
What got me on the topic of public sex? An article on AlterNet, Do You Like Having Sex in Public?(http://www.alternet.org/sex-amp-relat...) by Carrie Weisman:
For one, it’s thrilling. It’s a rush. And that alone can get your blood pumping. Intimacy coach Rebekah Beneteau told me over the phone, “There is some link in the brain between the systems of fear and arousal. If you think about the physiological symptoms of fear – the sweating, the elevated heart rate, the butterflies in the stomach – all of that is very similar to the feelings of turn on.”
Fear and arousal -- I like that!
Because you don't want to get caught!
I fucked on a beach picnic table in the shadow of Mt. Shasta in Northern California. It was a full moon, the campground's beach was closed (we sneaked in), and it was ten at night. It was fast. And fun! And I came!
...there is one downside to public sex: you have to be quick about it. Beneteau told me, “One of the things I don’t like about public sex is that it reinforces that ‘wham-bam, we’ve got to get this over with quickly before we get caught’ thing that a lot of people had from their masturbation life as teenagers. And then they wonder why they can’t have long, slow sex.
That's not much of a downside, if you ask me. Quickies are fun. Just not all the time.
Other places? A fishing pier in the Atlantic just north of Charleston, S.C. It was at night. We didn't fuck, but did everything but P.I.V. (penis in vagina) sex -- super passionate kissing, breasts out, finger-fucking, cock sucking. Then back to our condo, where we fucked for hours.
Finger-fucking and blow jobs in cars! That started in high school, of course. Long interstate drives in particular lend themselves to this. I've learned something about myself: If I'm the recipient, I can't be driving! Drive-in movies during high school: I'd jump in the back seat, rip off my clothes, make some guy deliriously happy, and never know what the feature was! Not all that public, considering that the car windows invariably steamed up.
Long hikes in the woods lend themselves to finding a secluded spot, getting nude and fucking (see the photo above). Solo hikes? I masturbate all the time. Not terribly public, but the fear of discovery is always there -- especially if you take all your clothes off (and I invariably do).
I've often fantasized finding a secluded spot on a bike ride in a rural area and trysting with a lover. Alas, I haven't done it yet. But I played out a bicycle sex fantasy in my erotic short, Ravished by the Trooper.
I went hog wild with public masturbation in Alison's New Toy. The new toy was a strap-on vibrator with a remote -- "a garage door opener for her vulva" that allowed my fuck-junkie main character to masturbate in very public places: a park, the woods, the supermarket, the mall, and in her car (and gets pulled over by a sexy woman cop; the seduction scene was in a cheap interstate motel). Alison uses her new toy in Upping the Ante to prep her pussy for a back-of-the-bar serial gangbang on a busted pool table with a bunch of steel workers, too.
Another kind of public sex is on weekend getaways with friends. I have a vivid memory of sharing a beach condo with a couple (in a nonsexual way) and masturbating my brains out in my room. Absolutely no way did they not hear me through the condo's paper-thin walls (I'm a screamer). No one, of course, said a word in the morning.
That's probably as close as I got to being "caught," in that I know someone else saw or heard my sexual frenzy. And I have a clean arrest record!
Okay, enough of my memories of public sex (and shameless self-promotion). What about you? C'mon, share your most outrageous memory (or fantasy!) of public sex.
July 15, 2015
Orgasm parity for women? Why stop there?
A rapper says that women should get their fair share of "climaxes" and the internet comes alive. “I demand that I climax. I think women should demand that,” Nicki Manaj told Cosmopolitan (http://www.cosmopolitan.com/entertain...) in May. “I’m a pleaser, but it’s 50-50.”
The always readable Jessica Valenti at The Guardian jumped on board. "Orgasm equality is a movement I can definitely get behind ... or on top of," she wrote last month in Women deserve orgasm equality (http://www.theguardian.com/commentisf...). (Note: It's okay to say "orgasm" in mainstream British media.)
The Huffington Post joined the chorus this week in Are We Finally Ready to Celebrate Female Desire? (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/a...) "A Cosmopolitan survey found that just 57 percent of women reported orgasming 'most or every time' they have sex with a partner, while a larger study from 2000 showed that women reported having one orgasm for every three orgasms men reported having. No matter which way you slice it, there seems to be a gender imbalance when it comes to the big 'O.'"
Wait. One orgasm for women for every three orgasms for men?
Excuse me. What about multiple orgasms?
Lots of women, either alone or with a partner, can orgasm a lot more than once during sex. If people are doing right -- and by "doing it right," I mean going beyond slam bam thank you ma'am -- that ratio should be reversed. When I have really great sex -- not every time, but often enough -- I can't count the orgasms. I'm not unique.
So what's with the 50-50? Haven't Cosmo, The Guardian and The Huffington Post heard of multiple orgasms? Why stop at 50-50? How about 80-20?
I've said it before and I'll say it again: Women are sexually superior (this isn't an anti-man rant; it's just true). Women are the repositories of beauty in our species. Women, for whatever reason, can come like banshees...again and again and again. No erection issues. No empty prostate issues.
Granted, not all women are multi-orgasmic. But a lot are.
While Valenti missed the multiple-orgasm angle, she makes a good point about education: "Maybe if we demonstrated healthy communication about sex to young people – and made it clear that sex isn’t just about men’s grand finales – we’d make some headway in closing that orgasm gap."
Not to put too fine a point on it, people -- meaning men -- need to learn how to fuck. By "fuck," I mean sexually satisfy their partners. And to sexually satisfy a woman, her lover needs to really, really, really get into foreplay and then control his own orgasm -- to hold off ejaculating until, I don't know, her fourth or fifth orgasm (if she's counting, and if you're doing right, she isn't). The irony is that by doing it right, men end up getting their brains fucked out in the process. Everyone's a winner (http://kccaveerotica.com/2014/03/12/m...).
Are you a woman who can't come (or can only come once)? Get a vibrator and some alone time.
Or, to really explore your sexuality to its fullest, get another woman.
The always readable Jessica Valenti at The Guardian jumped on board. "Orgasm equality is a movement I can definitely get behind ... or on top of," she wrote last month in Women deserve orgasm equality (http://www.theguardian.com/commentisf...). (Note: It's okay to say "orgasm" in mainstream British media.)
The Huffington Post joined the chorus this week in Are We Finally Ready to Celebrate Female Desire? (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/a...) "A Cosmopolitan survey found that just 57 percent of women reported orgasming 'most or every time' they have sex with a partner, while a larger study from 2000 showed that women reported having one orgasm for every three orgasms men reported having. No matter which way you slice it, there seems to be a gender imbalance when it comes to the big 'O.'"
Wait. One orgasm for women for every three orgasms for men?
Excuse me. What about multiple orgasms?
Lots of women, either alone or with a partner, can orgasm a lot more than once during sex. If people are doing right -- and by "doing it right," I mean going beyond slam bam thank you ma'am -- that ratio should be reversed. When I have really great sex -- not every time, but often enough -- I can't count the orgasms. I'm not unique.
So what's with the 50-50? Haven't Cosmo, The Guardian and The Huffington Post heard of multiple orgasms? Why stop at 50-50? How about 80-20?
I've said it before and I'll say it again: Women are sexually superior (this isn't an anti-man rant; it's just true). Women are the repositories of beauty in our species. Women, for whatever reason, can come like banshees...again and again and again. No erection issues. No empty prostate issues.
Granted, not all women are multi-orgasmic. But a lot are.
While Valenti missed the multiple-orgasm angle, she makes a good point about education: "Maybe if we demonstrated healthy communication about sex to young people – and made it clear that sex isn’t just about men’s grand finales – we’d make some headway in closing that orgasm gap."
Not to put too fine a point on it, people -- meaning men -- need to learn how to fuck. By "fuck," I mean sexually satisfy their partners. And to sexually satisfy a woman, her lover needs to really, really, really get into foreplay and then control his own orgasm -- to hold off ejaculating until, I don't know, her fourth or fifth orgasm (if she's counting, and if you're doing right, she isn't). The irony is that by doing it right, men end up getting their brains fucked out in the process. Everyone's a winner (http://kccaveerotica.com/2014/03/12/m...).
Are you a woman who can't come (or can only come once)? Get a vibrator and some alone time.
Or, to really explore your sexuality to its fullest, get another woman.
July 12, 2015
K.C. Cave: The interview
Yes, read it now--my author interview on Smashwords (https://www.smashwords.com/interview/...). Not that big a deal--after all, I interview myself. Had to.
Anaïs Nin is dead and
Rachel Kramer Bussel
was conducting an erotica writing workshop, so I had to go it alone,. But you'll learn some incredibly interesting things about me.
Like what? I'm a nudist, I love sex, Fifty Shades of Grey isn't one of my favorite books, and that I've attended six silent meditation retreats.
Yawn.
Perhaps more interesting: my motivation for writing erotica, my views on social media (ugh), my favorite erotica genres, and how I deal with the sexual arousal that invariably accompanies erotica writing (spoiler: I masturbate--a lot).
You'll also learn my favorite erotica words, my erotica turn-offs, and how much of my personal sexual experience ends up in my stories (sorry, you'll have to read the interview).
Got a question you'd like me to answer? You know how to reach me (http://kccaveerotica.com).
Free: Welcome to the Club, gay erotica
Welcome to the Club, gay erotica by K.C. Cave. Free on Excitica (http://www.excitica.com/index.php/ero...) through July 16.
The blurb: A young man discovers the joy of prostate play. How cool: A new way to orgasm! But if playing with a plastic dildo is fun, what about the real thing? A real cock probing and rubbing his gland? He’s not gay, which is a problem. He sees an ad in an alternative newspaper: “Open membership/Exclusive men’s club/For the adventurous.” A few phone calls later, he’s on the way to an upscale hotel for his initiation into a very special club for men who are straight, professional, “and enjoy the Greek side of things.” His initiation will be an evening of sex and submission to six experienced men. [M/M, anal sex, serial gang bang, gay gang bang, masturbation, fellatio, oral sex]
K.C. Cave's Blog
- K.C. Cave's profile
- 15 followers
K.C. Cave isn't a Goodreads Author
(yet),
but they
do have a blog,
so here are some recent posts imported from
their feed.
