I’m pretty adventurous when it comes to sex, I’m not going to lie. I love to experiment with men that I’m serious about and whom I trust, and I’m not opposed to an adventurous fling either. However, I have a confession: I might be open to hair-pulling, spanking, and playing dress-up, and there’s probably nothing that could come out of a guy’s mouth that would be dirty enough to make me blush… but I do not let men go down on me.

Take a minute. Catch your breath. Reread if you don’t believe it.

I’m sorry, but I’ve never enjoyed oral sex. I have no problem doling it out, but there are only a couple of men whom I’ve allowed to walk the red carpet, and they’ve only had the privilege on rare occasions.

My aversion to cunnilingus, I feel, stems from low self esteem and a rather horrific first time. I was shy and inexperienced, and losing my virginity was no Cinderella story. After that, it was a long time before I had vaginal sex again, but I did dole out my fair share of blow jobs. Go figure.

Looking back, I think it was a control issue. I had little control over my first time, and to me, going down on a guy was controlling. I was calling the shots. I could get him off. He was the one lying on the bed, losing his mind to ecstatic climax (sorry, I am damn good at fellatio). With regular sex, I felt like the power was equal. My partner and I were both simultaneously trying to please the other, while experiencing our own euphoric physical feelings. It was okay to give away my body, because it was a fair trade

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I’ve been attending a yoga class at the gym. I joined it so I could learn to get in touch with myself and relax and destress after a long day. I’m not really sure when I got out of touch with myself, but it sounds very zen and enlightened to say things like, “I just want to back in touch with myself.” And when people ask me if I like it, I just nod and tell them it’s nice to get back in touch with myself.

They look at me with jealousy because everyone would like to be in touch with themselves.

I’ve learned a lot since getting in touch with myself. Like I’ve learned that I lack flexibility. So instead of becoming destressed and relaxed I’ve become very stressed and unrelaxed. If I had never signed up for Yoga, I never would have learned that I’m incapable of doing a simple Downward Dog, nor would I know that my body refuses to do an appropriate Serpent.

I can’t even think about the failure that was Praying Possum.

My yoga teacher often comes up behind me, presses on various parts of my body, and says things like, “tell your calf muscle it’s safe and it’s ok to relax,” as if talking to my calf muscle will suddenly let me place it behind my ear. I mean, I definitely tried while the whole class looked on waiting to see how well I could communicate safety to my calf muscle. I haven’t been that embarrassed in front of a class since I confused organism with orgasm in 6th grade. Read More »