As a heterosexual couple (a bisexual woman and a privately kinky man), having non-penetrative sex feels subversive sometimes. I love masturbating in front of him and performing with sex toys. Sometimes I will beg for his fingers to fill me up because I want that feeling, but I usually need a little more direct stimulation to get off. And no matter how amazing my orgasms can be, I want him to come too.Read More
We think about sex a lot around here, and we watch and read and talk about it. Most of what we see depicted is some sort of fantasy world where everyone is hot, everyone is aroused, everyone is adventurous, and everyone is satisfied, fully, all of the time. And we know that's not exactly reality. Sometimes, sex is just mediocre. Occasionally, there are horror stories.
To celebrate Halloween, we'd like to hear your sex horror stories. And don’t worry, there are prizes for the scariest ones.
How to Enter:
Email your sex horror story to us at firstname.lastname@example.org in the form of an attached document or pasted in the email body. Please paste “Scary Story Contest Entry” in the subject line. Ideally, your story is true, funny, more memoir than erotica and reasonably non-violent.
Our team of Crave judges will choose the top three entries. The grand prize winner will receive a $250 shopping spree on lovecrave.com and their story will run as a Cravings post. Two runner ups will receive a $150 shopping spree on lovecrave.com.
The contest runs now through October 27. See the full contest details here.
So, allow your mind to unblock those terrifying memories and write it all down as some sort of therapy. If you win, much better vibes will be coming your way.
Ernest Hemingway’s A Moveable Feast recounts a terrific story about how F. Scott Fitzgerald came to him one day in a fit of anxiety about the size of his penis, and how Hemingway took him to the Louvre to reassure him that his endowments were certainly equivalent to those of classical Greek statuary.
In the absence of Hemingway, most of us these days turn to Google. Seth Stephens-Davidowitz, an economist who studies consumer behavior, wrote a fascinating article about this a few months ago in the New York Times, and it’s stuck with me as I talk about what we do at Crave, so I wanted to share it here.Read More
How do you connect to your sexual pleasure when you grow up in the most rigorously stringent part of the ultra-Orthodox Jewish community, where women are required to cover their bodies from collarbone to toes at all times, and dating is generally limited to a single meeting, sometimes two, with potential husbands?Read More
With the eyes of the world on Kim Kardashian's "Break the Internet" magazine cover, and all things ass-related becoming a bit less taboo, we wanted to share a personal story about trying anal sex.
The first time I tried it was after my high school boyfriend’s good friends (a couple) raved about how great it was, how they did it all the time, especially if she was on her period. We did it in my basement, bent over a hideous, orange 70s couch. I can’t remember if my parents were home upstairs, but I seriously hope not.Read More
Halloween is right around the corner and I'm getting a sugar rush just thinking about all the sweets that will be floating around the office, and on sale the day after for naughty grownups like myself. When it comes to sexy candy, I've never been one for chocolate body paint or edible panties, but with a strong oral fixation, I love to suck and play with the sweet things that fill this season.Read More
Like any person who subscribes to monogamy, I had to give up a few things—and people—when I got coupled up. But as a bisexual woman, I also had to give up whole parts of myself, not because my husband expected it, but because I expect it of myself. And, frankly, I wanted to. No one’s every thrilled me like he does, and now I’m just not interested in sharing my intimate self with anyone else.Read More
Early on in my relationship, the “have you been tested lately/can we stop using these stupid condoms already” talk naturally led to the subject of past partners, specifically how many. This made me nervous being that I was an early bloomer and had a feeling my Catholic-raised boyfriend had gotten started a little later in life.Read More
I know he's drunk when he starts reading me poetry. John Koethe, Wisława Szymborska. From there it's only a skip to Hegel or Proust — poetry through prose and philosophy, he says — and my eyes glaze over. They cling to the periphery, admiring the smoke coming from his nostrils as he exhales.Read More
My boyfriend would probably call me an exhibitionist as he’s always telling me to stop walking around naked in daylight with the blinds half open.
“What if somebody sees?” he says.
“So what if they do?” I say.Read More