Ah, summer is just around the corner. Which means longer days, fewer clothes, more happy hours and the imminent possibility of a summer fling with someone sexy. While the appeal of a summer fling lies in the fact that it is nonchalant, commitment free and totally insignificant in the grand scheme of things, there are still some ground rules that apply. Because being casual doesn’t mean completely disregarding the fact that a relationship of sorts is being formed.

1. Be honest

Don’t string along someone and make it seem like you’re interested in something more serious than you actually are. Not everyone has that “fling” mentality, and it would behoove you to make your intentions known upfront and clearly. If you’re on the same page, fabulous. If not, then you can go your separate ways with little to no harm done. Conversely, if you find yourself falling hard for your fling, you need to either tell them or break it off. Nothing positive will come from not acknowledging your feelings.

2. Manage expectations.

This tip is crucial for people who are generally serial monogamists and don’t really do no-strings-attached things. As a fling, you are not going to be the number one priority in your partner’s life. They will probably prioritize their friends, or their job, or their masturbation time over you from time to time, and as long as they’re not total jerks about it, you can’t really call them out on it.

3. Have an expiration date.

The whole point of a fling is that it is short-lived (as opposed to nebulous friends-with-benefits situations). If you are dedicating to the fling concept, you both need to decide when it’s time to end it, especially if it wouldn’t happen naturally (ie, one or both of you leaving town).

 4. Don’t abandon your standards.

Don’t settle for just any random, available penis or vagina. This is someone you could be spending time with for 3-4 months, so it’s perfectly fine to want to hang out with someone who you can occasionally have a moderately interesting conversation with.

5. Get adventurous. 

Take advantage of this opportunity to push your boundaries, try out things you’ve never had the opportunity to do, and just generally have a blast getting to know someone new. Try new positions, hook up in different locales, really embrace the whole experience.

[Lead image via Michal Kowalski/Shutterstock]

Fantasizing is an intrinsic part of sexual development. It’s a perfectly healthy way to work out your curiosities, explore your preferences, and enhance your sex life.  It’s totally okay to think about threesomes, or public sex, role playing, or whatever turns you on… But what if you want to actually take your fantasies to the next level? Undoubtedly, opening up an intimate and private part of your thought process to someone’s assessment and possible rejection is scary, but it can be a truly liberating (and sexy) experience to share fantasies with your partner.

Generally, the best time to broach fantasies is during foreplay. You’re both getting aroused and (hopefully!) you’re starting to let go of some of your inhibitions. There are pretty much three ways this can shake out. The worst case scenario is your partner outright rejects you. If they’re worthy of your time, they won’t express disgust or make you feel self-conscious. They’ll merely convey their lack of interest and get right back into the moment. Or, if they’re a little more intrigued, they’ll start to play along. For example, if you brought up the idea of role playing, they’ll integrate that into their dirty talk while you’re in coitus. It’s amazing how much just talking about fantasies can spice up your relationship. The best case scenario is they’re just as enthusiastic as you are, and are totally down for making your fantasies a reality. Total score.

The most important thing is to be confident and don’t invalidate your own fantasies. No matter how weird or kinky you think they are, you are almost certainly not alone. At the very least, there’s very little you could say that would shock your partner, especially if they’ve spent more than 5 seconds on the internet. It is incredibly common to imagine threesomes, public play, restraints…the list goes on. Don’t ever invalidate your own sexual proclivities – as long as they’re not harmful to you or to anyone else, they are fair game. There’s nothing wrong with indulging your imagination, and *fingers crossed* you are with, or will find, someone who is open to doing the same.

I’ve heard this story way too many times: Two people meet online somehow. They exchange contact info, and they fall into a loop of talking to each other all day and night via texts, IMs, and/or phone calls. Maybe they end up meeting in real life, but the vast majority of their communication is virtual. They feel like they’ve really scratched the surface and gotten to know each other on a profound level. Naturally, there’s probably some sexting, maybe even declarations of love. There’s definitely some semblance of a bond there. Then, one person reveals they weren’t nearly as invested as they appeared to be. They have a significant other or they suddenly start becoming a vulgar Twitter flirt, or they just decide to fall off the face of the earth. And then the other person is left hurt, confused and disappointed.

I would never deny how wonderful technology is. It’s awesome that I can easily contact my friends 2000 miles away, that I can quickly shoot a text off to my boyfriend asking him to bring home gummy bears, that I can meet new friends via social media. It has truly enriched the world in a way that I could never properly express. That said, technology can also create a connection that feels deeper than it actually is. The thing about written words is you can attach meaning that isn’t there. It doesn’t help that our language is riddled with hyperbole. That chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream is amazing. That new episode of Parks and Rec was phenomenal. My new skirt gives me life. Of course this hyperbole extends to the way we communicate with each other, and when you’re in that heady honeymoon period of crushing, you don’t realize that “I love you” doesn’t necessarily mean “I love you for all that you truly are” – it actually means something closer to “I love the idea of you that I’ve built up in my head because you’re more of a fantasy and not a real person with real person feelings.”

Technology can warp the way that we relate to each other. It lulls us into opening ourselves up far more quickly than we would in real life, creating an elevated sense of closeness, while conveniently allowing us to mask the worst parts of ourselves and gloss over our flaws.  At the same time, getting swept up in a relationship is more exciting than acknowledging that no one is nearly as perfect as they may try to present themselves. It’s important to approach online relationships with a healthy skepticism. If they flourish into something more substantial and real, that’s awesome. But at their core, they are superficial and barely scrape the surface.

Have you ever been in a virtual relationship? What do you think makes them easier than “real” relationships? Can they be successfully transitioned offline and into the real world?

[Lead image via Andy Dean Photography/Shutterstock]

There is a lot of emphasis on chemistry in relationships. It’s that undefinable, inexplicable, completely random spark that binds two people together. Sometimes it’s purely physical, sometimes it’s deeply emotional, and sometimes it’s just a sense of warmth and amorphous attraction. There’s nothing intrinsically wrong with craving sparks, but I think a little too much significance is placed on chemistry.

The thing with chemistry is, it requires no effort. It’s either there or it’s not. You can’t really conjure it up out of nowhere, and when it’s gone, it’s virtually impossible to capture in its original, organic form. So when people talk about how important chemistry is to them, it almost seems like they’re trying to completely absolve themselves from having any agency in building a connection with another person. How many times have you heard someone talk about a date or a hookup and they’ve raved about it, but then said they had no interest in following up because “there was no chemistry.” Even when there’s a perfectly solid foundation to build a potentially worthwhile relationship, people will forgo it in search of immediate sparks, which I think can be ultimately detrimental.

I’ve been dating my boyfriend for over two years. I had gone into it with a high level of cynicism, after a series of less than ideal dalliances. He seemed like a perfectly nice guy, and I had a good time, but I wasn’t head over heels smitten immediately. I took our burgeoning relationship one day at a time, partly out of fear, but mostly because I didn’t want something that caught fire quickly and burned out just as fast. I gave bits and pieces of myself to him, he returned the favor, and we steadily built a sturdy mutual support system. This isn’t to say that instant chemistry and substantial/long-term/worthwhile relationships are mutually exclusive, but  a lot of times, people forget that chemistry can be created.

The idea of working to make chemistry flies in the face of the way our society frames it. Chemistry is supposed to be overwhelming and all-consuming. It’s supposed to sweep you off your feet and make you feel like you’re in a Nicholas Sparks movie. But chemistry alone can’t sustain a relationship. The people involved have to be willing to exert themselves by communicating honestly, being willing to compromise, and keeping expectations in check.

[Lead image via Pedro Salaverría/Shutterstock]

An article on YourTango posed an interesting question – “Can a lady enjoy rough sex and still be a feminist?” Yes. Absolutely. This is an issue that I struggled with for a while. I started actively identifying as a feminist in high school, and what that meant to me at the time was that women should not be denied opportunities that men have, and that one’s quality of life should not suffer because of their gender. I didn’t start having intimate relations with guys until years later. The first guy I ever kissed identified as a feminist and he asked me how I could fight the patriarchy without tasting it (I didn’t realize precisely how repulsive such a question was until after the fact, unfortunately). It wasn’t until I lost my virginity a few years later that I started to truly examine how feminism and my sexual proclivities would intersect.

I love rough sex. It is essentially the only kind of intercourse that holds my attention. I am very submissive and I love being degraded and dominated by my partner in the bedroom. I absolutely need the sex to be rough and demeaning in order to orgasm. Prior to having sex, I never thought that this would be my preference, but it was something that my partner and I started to explore organically, and it’s very fulfilling to me. The fact that I am able to explore my sexuality safely, determine what I want, and effectively communicate my desires and my boundaries to my partner are all very sex-positive, feminist actions.

However, I know that my preferences do not exist in a vacuum. Subjugating and dominating women is endemic in our culture. If I had grown up in a society where there was no patriarchy and no misogyny, where mainstream porn didn’t glorify female submissiveness, where women weren’t routinely and systematically objectified, would I feel so secure in my sexual proclivities? My performance in the bedroom pretty much mirrors how female sexuality is executed on a larger scale. So I am aware that, subconsciously, I am choosing to acquiesce to societal norms. It would be naive to deny that culture has influenced the way I approach sex.

Be that as it may, I don’t think any sexual act is intrinsically feminist or anti-feminist. I can never emphasize the significance of consent, open lines of communication, mutual respect and clear boundaries enough. As long as those elements are present, the sex is feminist. Feminism is not a rigid set of rules and regulations. It is fluid, evolving, and puts a lot of emphasis on personal agency and choice. Choosing to have orgasms the way you want to is very much a feminist act.

[Lead image via Margarita Borodina/Shutterstock]

As of late, I’ve been noticing a subtle trend in the discourse surrounding sex, wherein people go out of their way to emphasize how adventurous and kinky and open-minded they are in bed. Not that there is anything remotely wrong with any of that, but is there any reason to accompany those remarks with a dig at people who are more vanilla/tame/virginal? I’m sure that the need to boast about the amazingly vibrant and multifaceted sex life is, in part, a reaction to society’s aggressive slut-shaming and general sex-negativity. While it’s great when people are able to see beyond our collectively lame perception of sex, it’s not cool at all to shame other people for differing sexual proclivities.

I’m sure that plenty of people would definitely consider me a prude. I’ve only had one boyfriend. Prior to him, I’d had less than 10 remotely sexual encounters. I’ve never intentionally engaged in casual sex/hookups – when it happened, I was wrought with anxiety and discomfort. I don’t like anal, nor am I interested in threesomes. And in this post-Katy Perry world, I’ve never even kissed a girl. In some circles, these truths would totally render me an uptight prude. Which, really, I fail to see much of a problem with. There is absolutely nothing wrong with not wanting to be super experimental, or lacking any desire to try to win a “who’s kinkier?” contest.  Being sex-positive doesn’t mean imposing your own ideas onto others — it means respecting that there are tons of ways to express your sexuality, and they are valid, whether you’re choosing to save yourself for marriage or save yourself for the next guy who makes you a jello shot.

It doesn’t matter if missionary is your end-all and be-all or whether you devour the Kama Sutra, if you enjoy fingerbangs or need to be gagged, bound and slapped to enjoy yourself, or if you have absolutely no interest in sex whatsoever; you shouldn’t feel shamed or looked down upon for your proclivities. We have such a messy societal narrative when it comes to sex. If you’re having too much sex, you’re disgusting, but if you’re not have enough, you’re boring. We need to stop buying into these arbitrary notions that there is some sort of barometer for what is the “right” kind of sex life. As long as it’s consistently safe and consensual, that’s all that matters. Everyone finds different things appealing, so let’s stop policing everyone’s behaviors and start accepting people for who they are, instead of who we think they should be.

[Lead image via CREATISTA/Shutterstock]

There’s a lot of cultural stigma attached to small penises. They’re not considered attractive. We mock guys who aren’t well-endowed and consider them less desirable than guys who are more blessed. A lot of a guy’s perceived masculinity is tied up in the size of his junk, which is just utterly absurd. It’s not like a dude has any choice in the matter, and it’s not like a small penis is some sort of moral failing. Yet, a small penis is almost seen as some sort of a character flaw, and indicative of a guy’s sexual prowess. A lot of this has to do with our narrow-minded focus on p-in-v (when really, size is but one piece of the intercourse puzzle).

There are benefits to hooking up with someone who is smaller. He has more incentive to be creative, more giving, and more open-minded. It’s likely that, as a result of his anxiety over his size, that he’s learned the art of pleasing his partners in other ways, whether it’s through massages, oral and manual stimulation, or certain positions. Moreover, giving oral is a lot easier to a guy who’s only 4 inches or so (I once encountered a guy who was somewhere in that vicinity, and it was totally refreshing to be able to easily fit the length of a penis in my mouth with no effort). There are a lot of reasons my thing with that guy was short-lived, but his size had absolutely nothing to do with it. Reducing sex to “p repeatedly goes in and out of v” is such a juvenile way to approach sexuality. I’d much rather take the guy who’s tiny but attentive than a dude who thinks his “Mr. Big” is the end-all and be-all.

Why is it that we ascribe so much value to traits that we have no control over? Similar to big breasts, big members are lauded, and I fail to see why. It’s not like anyone really has much of a choice over the size of most parts of their bodies, barring invasive surgeries. It would be far more interesting if we could focus more on the parts of our sexuality that we actually have agency over. Then again, breeding massive inferiority complexes about things we can’t do anything about is one of our society’s favorite past-times…

[Lead image via pressureUA/Shutterstock]

Guys don’t have a lot of contraceptive options – abstinence, condoms, and vasectomies are about the extent of it. All three of those options have drawbacks ranging from unrealistic (sup, abstinence for life) to mildly annoying to painful, expensive, and permanent. Luckily, the medical community has noticed a need for more options and one in particular has been getting a lot of buzz. While I totally support men having the opportunity to do their part to keep babies from being formed, I am not nearly as gung-ho about male birth control as a lot of people are.

It’s pretty obnoxious that women’s bodies are always preparing to get pregnant. I wish we all had an internal switch that defaulted to the “off” position, and could only be activated through some sort of baby-making chant, therefore notifying our bodies that yes, we are open for business. Unfortunately, that is not the case. So once we start fornicating for fun, the number one priority is keeping our uteri as unoccupied as possible. As women, we bear the majority of the consequences if our birth control fails. It’s not fair – in fact, it completely and utterly sucks, but that’s how it is, and I’ve come to terms with it. This is pretty cynical, but ultimately, I don’t expect anyone else to be nearly as invested in my body as I am. So even if  men had a zillion different birth control options, I would never relinquish an ounce of control in this regard.

However, I’m not suggesting that guys should be totally blase and laid back about contraception. At a bare minimum, dudes should at least be familiar with the most popular forms of female birth control and its side effects. If they’re in long term relationships, they should offer to help pay for some of the cost. And, when they’re engaging in casual sex, they should always be prepared with condoms and not say stupid shit like, “but you’re on the pill, right?” It’s not only absurdly immature and rude to put the onus on the girl immediately, but also beyond irresponsible from a health standpoint. And if guys are totally willing to let their balls be injected with a needle, that’s awesome. But, for as long as I’m the one who faces the most severe consequences of birth control goes awry, I will always assume more responsibility.

[Lead image via Deklofenak/Shutterstock]

There was an oh-so-charming piece published in Esquire last week written by a gentleman who is fed up with all the mediocre sex he’s having. Despite the fact that sex requires (at least) two participants, he put the onus of his inadequate sex life on his partners. Because there’s nothing sexier than a dude who refuses to take any responsibility. Am I right, ladies? He describes his worst lovers as being unenthusiastic and uncommunicative, while simultaneously describing his own skills as somewhere around “adequate.” Because mere “adequacy” is a total panty-dropper. The article is definitely tacky and leaves a lot to be desired.

I was also less than thrilled with the general response I read from women. Women who failed to see any problem with choosing to be a dull lay instead of taking control of the situation or extracting themselves. The idea that women should only be as good as their partner in bed is utterly absurd to me. I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating – life is too short for bad sex. We can’t always control other people, but (ideally) we have agency over ourselves. If you’re not satisfied, it’s at least partially your fault.

Good sex takes work, on both partners’ part. The thing is, each person comes in with their own preferences, experiences, and skill sets. Sometimes they align, and sometimes they don’t. When they don’t,  communication is paramount. That may not be as sexy as being cosmically connected, but closed mouths don’t get fed. The only way a bad or incompatible lover can get better is to be given feedback. Unfortunately, some people fail to recognize the significance of things like saliva control, foreplay, rhythm…and if you end up consenting to relations with people like this, it’s your social responsibility to at least guide them a little bit. If not for your pleasure, then for the pleasure of every unsuspecting soul after you who ends up in bed with them. Consider it charity.

At the end of the day, it’s up to you to choose whether you want great sex, or if you want boring/bad/mediocre sex. Society tries to instill in us the idea that as ladies, we’re supposed to be sexually passive, that we only have sex to satisfy others, that we don’t really have much to contribute to sex. But we are so much more than that, and we it owe it to ourselves to take control of  our sexuality and hold ourselves and our partners up to the high standards that we deserve.

There has been a resurgence in people talking about hookup culture. Some people think it’s not so bad. Others are less than thrilled at its prominence. Despite everyone trying to make no strings attached seem cool and desirable, in reality, casual sex often equals lame, unsatisfying, clumsy forays. Yet, for some reason, it has become an actual thing. Hookup culture dictates if you’re single, at least moderately attractive and you’re in your 20s, it is a rite of passage that you make bad decisions, usually fueled by alcohol, low self esteem, loneliness or low-key peer pressure. If, every so often you find yourself entwined with someone and engaging in activities that bore you, disgust you, or leave you feel awkward, degraded, or anxious…please stop.

Life is too short to have unsatisfactory nookie. Having a good story for your friends or your blog is not worth sacrificing your dignity. You are, most likely, not going to find love in a hopeless place, regardless of what Rihanna says. You are not going to find happiness or fulfilling companionship while settling for people you wouldn’t or couldn’t spend more than 30 seconds with while you were sober.

I am, by no means, anti casual sex.  It is not my own cup of tea, but it definitely has a place. But I am so tired of people engaging in it and having nothing to show for it but disillusionment with the human race. If you’re someone who is not comfortable communicating what turns you on and making sure that both you and your partner get off, casual sex is not for you. If you find yourself nauseated and grosses out after random encounters, don’t go there. Do not allow the trajectory of your life to be dictated by societal norms that you are not comfortable with. Not everyone is cut out for meaningless sex, and that’s completely okay.

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