Pictures and Words

Hi! I’m Sarah Morgan, and I’m single.

On the 27th of this month, I asked my boyfriend “Andy” to come with me to my friend Chris’s 40th. Chris wouldn’t be there, as he had died two years previously – I asked Andy to come because I was nervous about going. It was going to be like revisiting the wake. I knew the feeling of despair that would erupt upon seeing everyone there, gathered in his honour. I miss Chris every day, but seeing all of his loved ones in the same place was likely to overwhelm me.

Andy told me that he wasn’t interested in coming, because he didn’t know anyone and wouldn’t have any fun. He said that he didn’t want to accompany me to an emotionally-charged situation that I was nervous about going to, because he wouldn’t have any “fun”.

I was, as you can imagine, a bit annoyed. I thought he would be there to support me emotionally, but apparently not. I let it slide – he’d had a huge week at work, so I excused his cunty attitude as simply him being tired.

On the 28th of this month, I rang Andy, upset. My cousin’s cousin had committed suicide. I’ve lost a family-member each year for five years now – three suicides and two illnesses. I’d known my cousin’s cousin when I was a teenager, and was fairly close to his mother and older sister. As you can imagine, I was pretty torn up – on top of Chris’s party the previous day, I was pretty emotionally raw.

Andy didn’t give a shit. He said “Yeah, that’s a bit rough hey?” and then started talking about going out that night.

“No,” I thought to myself, “it’s okay. He’s never lost anyone close to him, he doesn’t understand grief. He doesn’t know how to support me emotionally, I’m going to have to work through this by myself.”

That night I went out with Andy and his mates. He got drunk and treated my like a whore, sticking his hand up my skirt, and asking if he could squeeze other girl’s arses.

At one point, he started squeezing my pinky, I don’t know why. I asked him to stop. I told him it was hurting, but he wouldn’t stop. He just kept squeezing it harder – the more I asked him to stop, the harder he squeezed.

Eventually, I just ripped my hand away, and burst into tears. Andy kissed me and told me he was sorry, and I thought to myself “It’s okay, he’s just drunk.”

On the 29th of this month, we went up to Eumundi and had Thai for lunch. Over lunch, we talked about how we were past the “awkward getting-back-together-after-breaking-up stage”, and how well it was going. We went to his parent’s for dinner, which was lovely. I started feeling really good about everything. 

That night, back at his place, we threw on a movie, and less than ten minutes in, started having sex. At one point, I said “I love you,” which usually gets an “I love you” in response, regardless of who says it first. He didn’t say anything in reply, which was a bit weird. I didn’t whisper it or anything, but he just ignored it while still driving himself in and out of me. Afterwards, I asked him why he didn’t say “I love you” back.

“I don’t know,” he responded, “I just don’t really feel it.”

I asked him what this meant for “us”, and told him that I wasn’t going to go around just so that he could have sex. He suggested another break. I agreed, and left.

The movie still had twenty minutes to go.

On the drive home, I didn’t feel sad. I felt angry, pissed of as all hell, but I didn’t feel the pangs of sorrow I had felt the last time we were on a break. Even then, I wasn’t thinking about it as a break, I was thinking about it as over. It was really dawning on me how much of an arsehole he was. No matter how much I may have loved him, the feelings of dissatisfaction I felt while with him weren’t going away. I started wondering if the only reason we had so much sex was because orgasm was the only time I felt satisfied around him.

He’s uncreative, he can’t free-think to save his life, he never offers opinions – he just sits there all day, having no thoughts of his own. It pisses me off no end, but who wants to be alone? I was suffering an arsehole who obviously didn’t care about me or my emotions, and why? Because I thought that being alone would be worse.

Well, it’s been one day since it ended, and I feel free. I feel like I deserve more than him – I want a partner I can fight passionately with over whether dark or milk chocolate is better. I want someone to challenge me, to excite me, to motivate me, and to love me the way I love them.

I want someone I feel satisfied with, even when I’m not having an orgasm.

On the 30th of this month, I thought long and hard all day about whether or not to contact Andy. Should I wait until he rings me with his verdict, or do I ring him and tell him that I want out?

I considered messaging him, but I reasoned that our relationship was worth more than a text message. So I bit the bullet, and gave him a call.

Three minutes and forty seconds later, I realised that Andy hadn’t valued our relationship as much as I had. Three minutes and forty seconds is all it took to cut all ties with Andy – I told him that it wasn’t working, that I did love him but I just couldn’t handle the way he treated me. I told him that I didn’t think we should be friends either, because we’d just end up in bed again, because we really had nothing else.

He said “Yeah, that’s what I think.” Five words. I asked him if he had any other thoughts, and he said “No”. I waited, to see if anything else was coming out, but after a while it was obvious that he’d said all he wanted to say, so I said goodbye. He said “bye”.

Three minutes, forty seconds, seven words, and it was all over. 

Seven words. I was never so sure that I was making the right decision as when I heard him say “No.” After the phone-call, all I could think was “Fuck.”

Fuck this. Fuck this relationship. It feels like a pathetic failed orgasm. You know the one where you feel it’s going to be big, but when it finally arrives it’s nothing but a pathetic pulse or two?

So, there you have it. I suppose Celibate Sarah was an experiment, because it answered once and for all, “Should Andy and I be together, or is it just sex?”

I feel very strong and very “I am woman hear me roar” right now – as much as I was desperately insisting that our relationship was about more than just sex, it became painfully apparent after I gave in that it was a lie. The sweet, caring Andy I was falling in love with this month disappeared as soon as I opened my legs again, leaving me with emotionally selfish Andy the Arsehole.

It looks like I’m going to be Celibate Sarah for quite a while to come. Still, on those long and lonely nights, at least I’ll have masturbation to keep me warm.

Final results:

Celibacy: FAIL

Relationship: FAIL

Andy: FAIL

Hello! My name is Peter C. Hayward, and when I’m not rotting meat, not eating, or watching other people not have sex (I watch a lot of people not have sex) I’m a film-maker!

Earlier this year, I filmed a Twilight parody with my cousin, my sister, and my housemate Cannibal Kate. The parody’s still in editing, but in the process of filming, we made a number of Behind the Scenes videos which I thought I’d share here.

So every few days until the parody itself comes out, I’ll be sharing another behind the scenes video. Some of them make references to jokes and gags in the parody film – I don’t think any of them “spoil” the final product, but watch at your own discretion.

The Twilight Parody: Behind the Scenes 1 – Trolley-Cam

Subscribe to my YouTube channel for more behind-the-scenes videos! (I’ll also be posting them all up here.) My thoughts on the Twilight film can be found over on The In-Joke Podcast.

Enjoy!

Hi! I’m Sarah Morgan, and it turns out I suck at not having sex.

So, I had sex.

I failed. 22 days into the Celibate Sarah project, I became non-Celibate Sarah. 

At the time, I didn’t think of it as “failing”, I thought of it as “being able to have sex again”, and I can’t lie, it was worth. It was amazing, awesome sex. It was all like He Tarzan, Me Jane.

I don’t even have any remorse, which makes me feel a little bad. (so I suppose I feel remorse about not feeling remorse. Did I mention that it was really good sex?)

I haven’t had sex since, and I don’t know when we will again, but now that the floodgates have been opened, I suspect we’ll be going at it like rabbits. If there’s one thing that I’ve learned from this experiment, it’s that I like sex. A lot. I suppose I’ve also learned that I have little to no self-control.

Honestly, it wasn’t a matter of self-control at the time. “Andy” wasn’t even trying to have sex, I was the one who made all the moves. I don’t really know why I did – at the time, I justified it by deciding that my relationship was more important than “the project”, and somehow concluded from that that having sex would prove how important the relationship was to me. It doesn’t make a lot of sense now, but at the time it seemed like a great reason.

I’m really sorry if I’ve disappointed everyone. I really did think I could make it – I wouldn’t have started if I didn’t think I could, because it would have been embarrassing to start each blog with “Hi, I’m Sarah Morgan, and I can’t even go 31 days without sex.”

I think one of the problems is that I was deliberately trying to go without sex – I can easily have sex if I don’t think about it, but because I was writing about it, and thinking about what I was going to write, and discussing it with everyone, I ended up thinking about sex 24/7. That stopped being fun around day 7.

Last week, I had a low point, and was planning on riding the wave of low libido until the end.  That, obviously, didn’t happen. On Sunday night, I reopened the gates of my libido, let it flow over me, and did what felt natural – ground my way to sexual liberty and orgasm after orgasm. We had sex quite a few times, and I felt almost virginal. It had been more than 22 days since we last had sex, which was longer than the time between when we first met and when we first had sex.

The fact that I knew I wasn’t meant to be doing it made the encounter feel secret, naughty, and exhilerating, three ingredients that guarantee good sex. The only thing that could have made it better was if I’d had a cigar afterwards, and if there’d been a midget juggling in the corner.

I don’t think I’ll attempt this experiment again. It’s sort of redundant – all that it did was make me think about sex and my relationship day and night, which made my relationship about sex more than it was before. I will be posting a few more updates before the month is over, answering some questions about sex that were left in the comments.

Relationship status: I feel like my relationship can handle anything now. This month made the relationship revolve around sex, which in itself made me realise how it hadn’t beforehand. The project has shown me how sweet Andy is, and how much I take his feelings for granted. Thinking this project wouldn’t really affect him was pretty stupid.

It’s also taught me to accept failure, which is a tricky thing to do. But I’ll admit it – I failed, and I’m okay with that. I failed, but it was fun, and I learned a lot about my relationship. And really, doesn’t that mean that the experiment succeeeded? (editor: No. No, it doesn’t.)

I love andy, and I finally feel secure in his love for me.

Day 22

Celibacy: FAIL

Relationship: WIN

Next: The End

Hi! I’m Sarah Morgan and it’s only 14 days until I can have sex…but who’s counting?

The last few days have been pretty slow, sexually speaking. There have been no more slip-ups. I haven’t even felt the need to masturbate.

Studying for university, for reasons I don’t fully understand, makes me horny: I’ve been doing so much studying lately that I think my sex drive has burnt out. The loss of libido has actually been a blessing…I’ve been able to concentrate properly for the first time all month.

My relationship with “Andy” continues to strengthen. The start of this week was a bit rocky, my sexometer was ramped up, and I was having all sorts of strange thoughts, but the last few days have been very loving and affectionate without being sexual. I haven’t even humped any inanimate objects yet!

Since we’re not having sex, the other day I talked to Andy for the first time ever (our relationship before now has been entirely based on sex, you see.)  Turns out that he finished his uni degree at the start of last year (who knew?) and so he’s been helping me out with my uni work – at the top of this post is a photo of me casting his face, for one of my assignments. I’m going to make a number of sculptures from it; the first will be a chastity belt, originally going to be a memento of this month, the Celibate Sarah project, but the more I research chastity belts, the more I’m thinking of making it a symbol for monogamy.

It will be a bit of an atypical chastity belt; it won’t actually prevent access, and the lock will be Andy’s face. This can be interpreted in a few different ways, either “I’ll screw around regardless of locks”, or that I’m locked into him. (the intent is “I’m locked into him”, but I’m still researching, and trying to work out how to best present it.)

My lecturer is getting a kick out of this blog – I think he wants to see how far I will actually push my boyfriend. Hopefully I won’t get a taste for it, maknig this the first of a number of Andy-tormenting projects. Tune in next month, for “How many insects can I make Andy swallow before he notices”, followed by “Andy’s limbs: how much pressure before they break?”

Celibacy has been affecting everything I do. All of my uni work comes back to relationships, celibacy or sex, and I can’t stop talking about it. I work at Coles, and while I’m scanning groceries, I talk to the customers about my project. They either laugh it off, or get really interested and ask me questions. The most common opinion is that I’m being cruel to my boyfriend, not myself. Since they are customers, I can’t really get into the argument, so I just laugh along about what a bitch I am, with-holding sex. Ha ha ha. Because everyone knows that only boys enjoy sex. Ha ha ha. Let’s face it, all girls hate sex.

Ha ha, ha.

I’ve been visiting at Andy at work – he does the graveyard shifts, so I can hang out with him for a few hours at a time, at a nice, neutral place. There’s no risk of having sex (they frown upon him getting laid at work) and because he’s the only one there, we get some time to ourselves.

Last night we went out and sat on the roof overlooking the city lights. We sat there talking, admiring the view, Andy held me close, and we discussed how the project was going so far.

He told me that he was feeling a bit rejected by it, which was hard to hear. That wasn’t my intention at all – it almost makes me want to stop the experiment, because I know how much rejection sucks. I reaffirmed him as much as I could – it’s pretty obvious that I do want to have sex with him. I told him that if I could do anything in the world at that moment, I would writhe against him naked. That seemed to cheer him up a bit.

I think that all fasting is good for cleansing. Perhaps not for a month – people say that a month isn’t that long, that it’s hard but not impossible. I’m starting to feel cleansed: I think this project is helping us move past our bad period. There’s less doubt in my mind about us as a couple. I don’t see Andy as someone I’m sexually dependent on, I see him as someone I genuinely love. I enjoy his company, I miss him when he’s not around, just talking to him and seeing his face. While I’m definitely missing sex, I’m not just missing the act, I’m missing sex with him. 

This week, I watched The Unborn with Andy. Part of the plot involves the main character’s boyfriend being part of an exorcism circle with her. I asked Andy if he’d be in an exorcism with me: he said yes, if I had to be exorcised, but no if I was just looking for a random exorcism to be part of.

From that, I have concluded that he loves me, but isn’t keen on my constant search for random and exciting things to partake in. Especially to do with the occult.

I’ve been thinking a lot more about our relationship, and appreciating different parts of it. Our relationship is laughter. It’s having fun. It’s him holding me when I have a sad moment, and…well, Andy doesn’t really have sad moments, but I would hold him if he did. We spend a lot of our time just talking about every little moment we had while apart. We’ll tell each other what we said, what we meant, what we were thinking while we were saying that, and what we would have said if we’d thought of it in time. I suppose to anyone else, that would be kind of boring, but to us it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

I’m realising that relationships aren’t easily definable. As handy as that would be, it’s unrealistic. I’ve also come to realise that the only feelings I have to worry about in the relationship are my own. If I love Andy, then I can’t do anything to hurt him. I know that I’m not interested in leaving Andy. I guess that’s the only thing I can be dependent on. Obsessing over his feelings will drive him away. I’m already too much crazy; going crazy over that would push me over the edge.

From the comments:

Dan Beeston asks:

I have a request from you, Sarah. Pretty much every partner I’ve had is 100% adamant that no sex is to occur during ‘the week’ in ‘the month’ despite my insistance that all bodily fluid is pretty much as gross as each other (ie. not much). I’d be interested in whether you had a stand point on this issue.

I used to at a brothel, on the desk, back when I was still a virgin. I remember asking the same question at the time, whether or not the girls would be able to work at that time of the month. The answer, surprisingly enough, was yes – they had these things called a “spunge”. It was quite literally a sponge that they would wet and then insert. It was mandatory that the guys wear condoms, obviously, and apparently the men couldn’t tell.

I never got to interview any of the men afterwards, they always left fairly quickly.

As for me – honestly, I enjoy sex on my period. (but not this month, obviously.) I don’t think that sex on the period is gross or yuck or fowl. I think it feels exactly the same, and gives you extra incentive for a joint shower afterwards. I don’t think that blood is dirty. I don’t think any of the bodily fluids are dirty, really.

I suppose that anal sex could be considered “dirty” sex, because of feces, but I don’t find anal sex dirty. The idea of it, anyway: I’ve never successfully had anal sex. We’ve tried it a few times, but Andy’s too big: I’ll think that he’s all the way in, but he doesn’t even have the head in, so I make him stop. Anyone have any tips?

Next: Celibacy: Fail

Hi! I’m Sarah Morgan, and for the month of March I’m not going to have sex. This is more challenging than it sounds.

Sorry about the lack of posts lately, I’ve been incredibly busy with university. I have started a Twitter account – “celibatesarah” – and I’m going to be trying to update that regularly – add me for updates “as-they-happen”, instead of “as-I-get-the-time-to-write-a-full-blog-and-then-email-it-to-Peter-and-wait-for-him-to-update-the-site-with-it”.

Breaking me:

Last weekend, my boyfriend “Andy” went camping. I thought this was a great idea, because it meant that I wouldn’t  be tempted. Without Andy around, there’d be no chance of me having sex with him. (not masturbating continues to be a struggle.)

So I invited my best friend James (pictured, above) to come around, to gossip and giggle and watch vampire movies. James is gay, so we spend most of our time together talking about our mutual love of penises.

James came around, we put Underworld on, started to spoon (totally allowed, because he’s gay) and started to talk about sex. I didn’t have much news; I’m celibate at the moment, and my boyfriend was away camping. I asked James for a backrub (my biggest weakness!) and he happily obliged.

My friend James is extremely affectionate, and very talented with his hands, so I was in heaven. I turned to face him, while still kind of spooning him, and started to give him a head massage. My boyfriend doesn’t like my head massages, and I wanted to see what James thought (he was a fan.)

There was a strange sort of moment, and James started giggling. “For a second there, I was thinking about what would happen if I kissed you,” he said, in reply to my querying look. We both laughed, and he continued – “Then I wondered what our boyfriends would think!”

I laughed so much that I needed to go to the toilet. When I returned, I found my friend James completely naked on my bed, my sheet strategically placed over his…”area”.

I did what any self-respecting girl would do, I jumped straight into bed with him, and we both burst out into a fit of giggles.

When I got a bit annoyed about his penis touching my bed linen, he ripped the sheets off, and revealed that he had just rolled his pants up.

Who knows what would have happened if he’d taken them off?

The first slip-up:

On Day 9, I slipped up.

Andy came over. He had been camping, and I hadn’t seen him for almost a week. He brought with him dinner, dessert and a wine – lamb korma, mango sorbet, and a nice red merlot.

My flatmate answered the door, and saw the bottle of wine. Within a minute of Andy arriving, my room was full of my flatmate, her two kids and her boyfriend, singing “Oh Andy, don’t seduce poor Sarah” over and over, in their best operatic voices. It was slightly surreal, and my cheeks were a bit red by the end of it.

Andy had a glass of wine, I had about three mouthfuls. I like the taste of wine, I just don’t like the warmth that travels through your body when you’re drinking it.

I think that the dessert was more than a little to blame for what happened next – it was so delicious that we had to see what a mango sorbet kiss tasted like. (it was fantastic.)

We made out; it was rough and sexy, and I was seconds from tossing in the whole project the whole time.

I didn’t. I didn’t take my clothes off, I didn’t have an orgasm, I didn’t have sex…I did, however, give Andy head.

(editor’s note: I thought I’d share the conversation where she first told me about this:

My take on what’s happened here is that the relationship has failed not having sex in the 31 days, but I personally haven’t. It’s day 11 as I write this – 11 days orgasm free, and I even kept all of my clothes on.

My logic at the time, I remember, was “Andy’s made it clear that this is my project only, nothing to do with him. I do want to give him head, and it’s not like I’ll be getting any real sexual pleasure from it.” The next thing I remember was immediately after the act, thinking “What the fuck? That logic didn’t make any sense at all. What was I thinking!?”

I firmly believe that I am still sex-free, it’s just my relationship that isn’t.

(Editor’s note: I think it’s a bit of a grey area. Feel free to weigh in, leave a comment.)

Celibacy:1
Andy: 1
Relationship: 0

Afterwards, I was talking to Andy, and I told him that maybe my worst fears had been right, that maybe we really don’t have a relationship past sex. He thinks that’s a stupid way of looking at it – Andy thinks that we like sex, and we like each other, and that’s all that matters.

Last post:

In the last post, I made some comments about masturbation – I feel like I’ve come across like a bit of an idiot, suggesting that everyone has the sexual desire of a bonobo. Thanks to Janet (over at Facebook) for drawing attention to the fact that I was presuming everyone’s experiences were like mine. It was just as stupid for me to suggest that everyone would naturally discover masturbation as it was for the girl to suggest that everyone wouldn’t.

I have a habit of only drawing from my own experiences, and disregarding everyone else’s. I don’t think it’s an attractive trait, and it’s one that I’m going to work on combatting.

From the comments:

I’ve been receiving a few emails with questions, so I’ve taken the names off of them. If you want your name to be attached to your question, you have to leave it in the comments.

Which do you think is more natural, monogamy or polygamy?

My first reaction was to say that of course polygamy was more natural. Then I remembered that no, not everyone is sexual as I am. I’m a highly sexual girl, and polygamy makes sense to me from that angle, but I’m starting to learn that people aren’t as highly sexual as I’d always assumed they were.

How would marriage have come to be if everyone thought like me? I feel the same way about marriage as that girl I met last week did about masturbation – yes, I want to get married, but if no one had suggested it to me, it’s not an idea I ever would have come up with. If I hadn’t had people telling me my whole life that marriage was the best path, it wouldn’t really be one that I’d have considered.

I’d point to my friends (most of them think the same way about it as I do) but that’s anecdotal evidence, and not really enough to build a case around. People often hang around those with similar thoughts and ideals, so it makes sense that I’d have like-minded friends.

I think it would be much more socially productive for asexual people to get married. The main point of life is to reproduce, and once you’re married, you can just schedule children. Sexual drive doesn’t need to factor in at all, really.

Until recently, I’d assumed that all babies were accidental. This is definitely not the case; many of my friends were planned. With this in mind, there’s no reason that asexual people can’t have children. (not to say that asexual people don’t have spurts of high sexual energies, and accidentally have children, just like highly sexual people can plan pregnancies, and have low sex drives at times.)

Having said that, even for highly sexual couples, I can see a number of advantages to monogamy:

• Safety - no STDs to worry about.
• Comfort - you get to learn each other’s kinks, learn what turns each other on.
• Company - when you’re not having sex, you get a best friend and a confidant.
• Convenience - sex on tap.

I really think that marriage/monogamy works best in a family scenario though, binding two people who love each other together to support their offspring, regardless of whether or not they have sex. (you don’t need marriage for this, I just think it’s a nice idea. Also, it makes the person you’re having kids with your legal next-of-kin. Fingers crossed that they bring these rights to gay and lesbian couples, with and without children.)

On a similar note:

Does being in a relationship freak you out?

Yes and No.

I fall in love with people all the time. In an ideal world, I’d like to follow up each of these encounters, and see where they lead. My relationship means that I can’t do that, because I need to protect the feelings of my partner. I hate the term cheating – it’s not fair that I can’t love multiple people.

That being said, I can’t stand the idea of not being my partner’s everything, and I feel that he should be my everything in return. That’s the main reason I like being in a relationship – I like the intimacy you can achieve with one another. This takes time, and until then, I always want to bail – it seems so messy and emotional. There are so many questions – do they want me long term? Are they just having fun until someone better comes along?

After that part, you settle into a rhythm of seeing each other and being comfortable with their feelings for you, and yours for them. It’s nice.

That’s the stage where I start mentally wandering – I feel loved and secure, and they’re secure with my love…it’s almost like I’ve just learned to throw and catch, and now I want to see if I can add another ball in, and juggle two with one hand. 

As this project rolls on, I’m sure I’m going to keep on looking at relationships in different ways – my thoughts on what constitutes a relationship are being challenged already. I used to think that a relationship meant that you were having sex, but now I think that people could have long, loving, full-engaged relationships, sans sex. 

“Peter B” asks:

Sarah, would you like to have children some day? Frequency of sex goes way down after kids. Also, are you worried at all that things about your sex life would change if you and “Andy” moved in together?

Well, I would like to have kids one day. I’ve heard that your sex drive decreases after having kids, but it wouldn’t worry me. If I had no sex drive, I just wouldn’t have sex. I wouldn’t force myself to, just because I once liked it a lot. My flatmate has two kids though, and she probably does it more than Andy and I do. It’s pretty impressive. Maybe I’ll be like her.

If Andy and I moved in together, I wouldn’t worry when our sex life inevitably changed. Because we don’t live together, when we’re in each other’s company, we have sex, and when we’re apart, we do all the mundane stuff that needs to be done. If we lived together, I’m sure that dishes would become a higher priority than sex.

Following the condom discussion:

I just hate condoms. They wreak spontaneity, and they smell weird.

My philosophy is that if there’s a crappy thing you have to do, make it work for you. I too once thought that condoms sucked, so I made an effort to associate them with sex. Now I find the thought of a condom quite sexy!

The advantages of condoms:

1. They provide a barrier against sperm, which is nifty for not having children before you want to.
2. They allow sex to be far less messy.
3. You can have a guy go down on you straight after sex, without them being scared of having to eat/taste themselves. (always quite handy if they arrive before you do, if you know what I mean.)
4. They allow for an intense, sexy pause that I love. You and your partner are making out, trying to force your bodies to get as close as solid forms can. The only way to be any closer is for him to literally enter you.Your partner (or you) then need to stop this in order to retrieve and apply a condom. It’s hot. It intensifies the moment. Your body is literally begging for more, and after the condom is applied, the act happens. It’s bliss. It’s like cleaning your ears with a cotton tip, when they’ve been bugging you all day.
5. They come in all kinds of flavors, scents, sizes and textures.
6. When you buy them, you get to give the attendant that knowing look of “Yup. I’m getting some.”

I’ll be back in a couple of days with another update. In the meantime, feel free to leave any questions in the comments below. I’m also happy to act as a sex advice columnist – if you have any questions or problems with sex, let me know, and I’ll see what advice I can offer!

Next: Chastity Belt