Reasons Why Your OKCupid Messages Go Unanswered

Pris Killingly: Serial Online Dater, at your service.

A few posts ago, I gave some advice on how to meet people from the internet and came out of the online dating closet. I’ve been a practicing OKCupider for a bit over a year now and have received a ridiculous amount of messages throughout the past few months. Some messages have been awesome and intrigued me right away. Some were a bit more bland and got lost in the shuffle. And then of course, a few stood out because of how absurd or ridiculous they were. When I first got on the site, I did my best to answer each and every message, even if I had absolutely no interest in the sender. Basically, I thought it was just bad manners to allow a letter to go unanswered. But time passed and the more messages I received, the harder it got to answer them all. Eventually, I began only selecting the more interesting messages from people I might potentially want to date or hang out with, leaving the rest to collect virtual dust until I got that message again: Your mailbox (incoming+sent) is almost full. Soon you’ll stop getting messages! That’s when I know it’s time to let the bygones be bygones and off they go into the trash.

I still feel kinda bad about letting so many of these messages go unanswered. There are many reasons why this happens. It’s not always one simple answer and truth be told, while I can be a bitch as much as the next person in my regular life, i’m actually a pretty nice person on the whole and i’d like to think I make for a decent online dater. (If you don’t believe me, i’ve got references!) So for those who are upset that I didn’t answer back, for those that don’t give a shit, or for others of you who are just now getting into the online dating game, here’s a few reasons why your letters might go unanswered. Advice on how to avoid letter rejectionitis included within each explanation.

Please don't be as creepy as Conebone69! (If you get the reference, congratulations. You're awesome.)

1. Your username creeps me out. This is essentially the first impression you’re making on me. When I get an e-mail from OKC, the first thing i’ll see if your username. Make sure it’s something not too over the top. If you reference body parts (e.g. bigblackcock*, ballsdeepstud, etc) or how “hot” you are (e.g. sexypapi69 or something to that effect), I probably won’t want to talk to you. If your username is something too specifically geared toward something that doesn’t interest me at all but is obviously a passion of yours (e.g. dragonwzrdking, gonefishing, anothergoodxtian, etc), I might also not answer. Maybe this is too judgemental of me. Maybe “RonPaulFanboy” has other qualities aside from wanting to constantly fellate his favored presidential candidate**. However, my distaste for RP is too great to get over and as I do need some way to filter out the messages I get, RonPaulFanboy will likely get deleted in favor of someone else.

2. You have absolutely no pictures. This is a no-brainer. Online dating sites allow you, nay, encourage you to post several pictures of yourself in order to give your potential date an idea of what they’re getting themselves in to. I use the allotted 10 image limit that OKCupid gives me to provide others with a good idea of what I look like. Even if you’re just looking to be friends, I still want to know what you look like. If I wanted to hang out with someone whose face I can’t see, i’d call over the gimp.

Huh? What? Sorry, wasn't listening.

3. You have nothing interesting to say. Alright, this isn’t necessarily fair. Maybe you just didn’t know what to say or how to say what you wanted to say without sounding creepy, weird, desperate, or some combination of those things. However, just saying “hey” or “sup?” or “hi cutie” or whatever makes the receiver of the message (me, in this example) feel like a. you’re not very creative and b. you don’t like to put in much effort. And if there’s one thing I highly value, it’s someone who puts forth effort. Make a casual mention about something on my profile and/or in one of my pictures. Or come up with a funny icebreaker. Make it so that i’d feel a bit like a jerk if I didn’t somehow respond, even if i’m not necessarily fully interested. There’s always a chance I might become more interested as a result.

4. You lay it on TOO thick. From time to time, I respond to someone who compliments me on my looks via message. But if that’s the only thing you’ve got to say to me (e.g. “Damn honey, you look good!”), my attention span might not last. Some people also just go a little too overboard with their approach. “You with all those curves and me with no breaks!” is just one of several lines that, while appreciated (this shit makes me laugh always), won’t necessarily work on me, and therefore might not work on many others. Also, people claiming they want to sweep me off my feet and show me everything i’ve been missing need not apply. I like my feet firmly planted on the ground. I’m usually looking for an equal to run around with instead. But I guess some people might go for that stuff.

5. I wanted to answer, but couldn’t come up with a clever response in a timely manner. Basically, I read your message and you seemed pretty cool, but then I had to rush to work and decided i’d respond later. Except then I got home and realized I needed to get groceries, so I told myself i’d write when I got home. But then I forgot I didn’t have any clean laundry, so I went to do that, and when I got back online, Facebook and Twitter began vying for my attention and I completely forgot to write to you. And then, a few days passed, maybe weeks, even months, and then I remembered I wanted to write to you but possibly felt embarassed to do so now, after so much time. This is a rare occurrence but it HAS happened. In fact, I just wrote to someone today who seemed like a fun person to hang out with that i’d exchange messages with last May but then completely forgot to follow up with. We’ll see if he responds.

Why must you insist on making me facepalm so much?

6. You picked a fight with me for absolutely no reason. This has happened. I once had a guy message me to let me know how much he hated Charles Bukowski (after seeing “Ham on Rye” listed as what I was currently reading). He went on to talk about how drunk writers are all overrated hacks (he obviously didn’t know who he was writing to). I entertained his messages for a couple of minutes and then finally got bored and stopped responding. He continued to message me, eventually asking if I was interested in him at all. My jaw dropped to the floor and as I picked it back up, my finger hit the ‘delete’ button.

7. I’m kinda-sorta seeing someone. Kinda. I don’t really date monogamously at the moment. Truth be told, I haven’t really found anyone that i’d want to take such a step with (for various reasons). However, there have been moments here and there, very rare and short-lived ones, where I wanted to see where something might go with someone. And so, I might’ve felt a bit strange answering your message at such a time. Obviously I’m still single and none of those situations quite worked out, so the chances that this is the reason your message went unanswered are slim to nil, but it might be true again in the future. You never know.

Take a lesson from the Fonz. Heyooo!

8. You have absolutely no confidence in yourself. I know this probably sounds mean, but if you don’t think you’re anything special, why should I? No, but seriously, if your first message is loaded with phrases like “I’m really shitty at this”, “I know I don’t have a chance”, or “I’m probably not your type,” well, for one, it’ll make me kinda sad because I’m sure you’re probably a very nice person but are lacking in the self-esteem department. I’m not here to be anyone’s cheerleader though. It’s hard enough to keep my own esteem relatively up (while working against ever becoming too much of an egomaniac) without having to try and let you know how special I think you are. My job is not to massage egos. Figure your shit out, learn your best qualities, embrace who you are, and then get back to me.

9. All your pictures are inconsistent and/or terrible. Some people look different in all of their images. This bothers me to no end. Which one do you REALLY look like? I might still talk to you, but this is always going to bug me to no end. Also, if you’re taking low angle shots of yourself… please… for the love of the gods… STOP! It’s not flattering for anyone. Not anyone.*** I’ve actually been considering lending out my services to people (especially gentlemen) by advising people on which pictures to use in their online dating profiles. Hell, i’ll even take em for you, so long as you quit it with the low angle. Shirtless pics should also be avoided unless it’s a pic of you at the beach/pool/other large body of water and you’re very comfortable/confident in your body (not necessarily that you’re super fit, but that you carry yourself well). Also, pictures of you looking like absolute shit with captions like “Looking like shit after a long night out” or “Exhausted, cranky, looking terrible” should be avoided. Why the fuck do people post bad pictures of themselves? We all have a good side, a perfect angle that captures what we look like and still puts us in the best light. Go with what works. PS. I don’t want to see pics of you in more than one Halloween/theme party costume (unless they’re amazing costumes – dressing in drag isn’t amazing unless you’re actually in the biz of being a drag king/queen FYI). Goofy fact pics should also be kept to a minimum. We might think that’s what you actually normally look like and then we’ll never take you seriously.


10. You are rude. “I wanna fuck u” is not a good icebreaker – unless maybe you’re Ryan Gosling. Also, harassing me by sending constant messages after I failed to respond to the first one is a quick way to get me to completely ignore you. Sometimes I take a while to respond because I want to figure out the right thing to say, or maybe i’ve just been busy, or I might be seeing someone at the time and don’t want to try to date anyone else. Or maybe i’m just not interested. (It’s probably that.) Whatever the case, it’s fine if you send me another message a few days/weeks down the line as a friendly reminder that you messaged me before. Make your intentions known. If you’re writing to ask me out on a date and I didn’t respond and I still don’t, take the hint. If you’re writing because you honestly just want to hang out and don’t expect anything, and you tell me this, I might be more inclined to meet you. Or maybe I will want to go on that date. You really never know. All I do know is that there’s few things that irritate me more about online dating than assholes who want to call me names because I wasn’t interested in them. Get over it, psychos. It’s not cool. I should make a Tumblr reporting you all so no one dates you.****

11. The answers to your questions freak me out. Some people don’t take the question portion too seriously and give a lot of bullshit answers while others try to be as honest and consistent as possible. I don’t always read through people’s questions because, well, I don’t usually have the time or attention span for it. However, sometimes I like to give it a once over. Some red flag answers for me that might cause me to NOT answer you back? Anything that indicates you’re anti-choice/pro-life, extremely religious/religion-oriented (Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Buddhist, whatever – it just doesn’t interest me and will likely cause major conflicts down the line), you don’t believe in evolution, you’re Republican or agree with the Tea Party in any way, you’re racist, you’re sexist… Need I go on? Everyone’s got their hot-button issues and these are mine. Don’t like em? I don’t want to date you.

12. I’m just not interested. Sometimes people just aren’t interested. I’ve sent out messages that went unanswered and lived to tell the tale. They either had one of the above reasons for not answering, had a different reason, or, the main reason – they just weren’t interested. And that’s okay. We’re not always physically, mentally, and/or emotionally attracted to everyone, no matter how nice and good looking and pleasant they might be or appear to others. It happens.

Hope that shed some light into this potentially perplexing problem. Now get out there and date some strangers! I swear it’s good for you.



*I’m not using any actual usernames i’ve seen to protect the quasi-innocent.

**Just joking about this. Kinda. I really don’t like Ron Paul or the kool-aid drinking following he’s got, but i’ll save that for a different post.

***Alright, maybe some porn stars can get away with it, but this is because we’re looking at other body parts most likely and forgot to check out the face.

****Future project? Maybe that’s a little too mean…

From Morgan Avenue with Love (New York City Stories – Take 8)

(…Continued from Part 7)

Disclaimer: This part of the travelogue doesn’t have much about the travel aspect. It’s about a moment during the trip that needs documenting. There’ll be more travel-related destination banter in the next one. So there you go.

The next day, I woke up in the Bronx with a pounding headache, lying next to a near comatose Italian* chef from Detroit. This man was NOT the DJ; this man was not who I was supposed to end up going home with. So what the hell happened?

I wish that I’d taken pictures that night, because my memory is not quite as sharp as I wish it were…

When Lisa and I got to the DJ’s gig, the first thing the DJ did was take us inside and make sure his bartender friend Neela took care of us. We sat at the bar and got comfortable with the plethora of shots that began making their way to the bar, into our hands, and down our throats. The DJ was in good form. He was always in good form. He’s one of those people who always maintain the perfect amount of positive energy. You know when people say “your smile could light up a room”? He’s one of those people you’d say that about. And boy did he like to keep those dark rooms bright.

Throughout the night, we saw the crowds come and go, mixed bags of yuppies and out-of-towners and aging hipsters and people just looking for a night cap. The DJ played on, and took cigarette breaks as often as possible, and then began taking dance breaks as often as possible; his tall, lanky self pulling Lisa and Neela and I out on to the dance floor, smiles aplenty. And the drinks, and the drinks, and the dancing and the drinks until my head was swimming and I wanted to grab him and kiss him and tell him that he still meant something to me, that he always had. The streets of Manhattan were quiet outside while the noise in my head was only muffled slightly by the alcohol.

The hours went on and the party did too. I would sneak over to the DJ while he worked sometimes, and I held his hand, and he squeezed his fingers in mine, and I would get sad because I knew that it might be years before I got to see him again, and how long would this go on? More drinks, more smokes. And then another man walked in, and this one knew the DJ well, so much so that he and the DJ began to dance. Then the DJ introduced us, flinging me into the strangers arms as he made his way back to the DJ booth. This is how I met Parker.

Parker hit me like a ton of bricks. That’s not the right way to say that. He didn’t hit me. But something about him hit me. He had another one of those smiles, though nowhere near as endearing as the DJ’s. But still, he had a good one, and I’ve always been a sucker for a nice smile. Parker was working overtime that night. The way he’d look at me. The way he’d do anything to force me to stare back into his eyes. And my god, did he lay it on thick. “Beautiful.” “Baby.” “Gorgeous.” I would tell him he really didn’t have to, but then he’d spew another “I’m not a player or anything, I’m being serious,” and i’d laugh it off because there really wasn’t anything else to say or do. Lisa began sitting out more dances, buying us more drinks. Parker kept on, and on and on. Until he’d invaded every inch of my personal space, and with his finger tips lifting my chin up, he kissed me. It hit me. Like a ton of confused, awkward bricks that have landed everywhere after an explosion. It was fantastic and awful and i’m pretty sure the only thing I said or thought for a good while afterward was, “Oh, fuck.”

The DJ saw everything. The DJ kept playing music. The DJ kept drinking and smoking. The DJ, the DJ. Hang the DJ, hang the DJ, hang the DJ…

I ran to him like some scared little girl, unsure of what to do next. The DJ was still my friend. I felt terrible about Parker, and worse about what I knew would happen next. I grabbed the DJ and asked him what he knew about Parker, what he thought.

“He’s a good guy.. I like him. You should go for it.”


…Alright, It’s been over 6 months since this incident. It’s taken 6 months for me to say all of these things and be (almost) okay with them. But I’ll tell you this: at that moment, it was one of the worst things I’d ever heard anyone say to me. Ever. It’s tough to admit when we’re wrong about something, and even tougher still to admit when things just don’t go your way. Because I know deep down I would’ve wanted there to be some kind of jealousy, or at least a sign to say “hey, maybe this isn’t such a good idea.” Nothing. Go for it. So let’s just say this: It fucking hurt.

Why didn’t he care? This plagued me to no end. He didn’t seem thrilled about the situation, but I couldn’t tell if he cared at all. At that point in our lives, we hadn’t been talking very much. For all I know, he was seeing someone. Maybe having an affair with Neela the married bartender. Maybe he had a girlfriend that he didn’t like to talk about. Maybe he’d just finally stopped feeling that chemistry that had existed between us for so long. I couldn’t be sure. When you’re plastered at 3am in the city that never sleeps, it’s hard to be sure about anything.

What I did know was that Parker seemed to have taken a liking to me. He wasn’t the DJ. The DJ was lost to me now. Parker was real, and his arms would wrap around me, and his lips would kiss me deep, and my head would spin. So I said fuck it.

“Parker wants me to go home with him,” I said to the DJ on our final cigarette break alone.

Parker was back inside, maybe talking to Lisa or Neela, maybe drinking more, I can’t be sure. I couldn’t care less at the time. He was a man I didn’t know and the man I did know was doing everything possible to crush all the feelings I’d harbored for him for the better part of a decade. He smiled and hugged me tight. I wished with every fiber of my being that I could read his thoughts, that he would tell me something that would reassure me that I wasn’t insane. That whatever that thing was that existed between us still did indeed exist. That this would not be the last night. That he cared in some way but didn’t know how to say it, just like every other time had been, when he’d act like everything was fine only to tell me months down the line how much I’d actually been wanted and missed. For fuck’s sake, anything.

“He’s a good guy. Like I said, you should go for it.”

I’m surprised, given how drunk I was, that I didn’t cry or yell or even get angry. Maybe I knew it was coming. I could hear tires driving over the slick streets blocks away. It had rained again, just like it’d rained every day that I was in NYC. I met his gaze and gave him the saddest false smile I’ve probably ever given anyone, and I let him go.

Parker was eager to get out of Manhattan. Lisa thought I was crazy to go home with a near-stranger, but I trusted the DJ. He wouldn’t send me off with a total nut job. At least, that’s what I figured. Parker bummed a final cigg from the DJ and I said goodbye to Lisa, Neela, and the infamous Mr. DJ. Parker and I walked/stumbled down the street, searching for a cab to hail. I could see his Squee tattoo on the back of his calve and figured he couldn’t be so bad if he was a Squee fan. I grabbed his hand and decided to go with it.

In case you're not familiar with Jhonen Vasquez's Squee...

A cab ride to the Bronx. My first time in that most avoided of boroughs (aside from Staten Island, although I’m not sure which one is avoided more – any native New Yorkers wanna take a stab at it?) And then we were inside the apartment, which was by far one of the most spacious NYC apartments i’ve ever been in.

“Just one of the perks of living in the Bronx,” said Parker, who actually absolutely hated New York City, and who had plans to move back to Detroit to open up a fine dining establishment someday.

Sigh. From there, you can guess what happened next. The sex was alright, but not terribly memorable, probably for numerous reasons (we were both too drunk, I was still hurt about the DJ, we’d only just met a few hours before, etc). I spent the next morning hydrating and smoking (his very low grade) grass while he snored away, sleeping off the hangover. I felt terribly awkward about not coming back to Tyler’s for the night. Not that I owed him explanations, but all my things were there and he’d been nice enough to let me stay with him for the duration of the trip. I tried to come up with different excuses as to why I hadn’t made it back to Manhattan. I tried to forget all about the DJ.

Parker had to get to work that afternoon, so we took the train back to Manhattan that afternoon. He got off two stops before I did.

“It was nice to meet you,” we both said, with the knowledge that we’d likely never speak again. I thought about how ridiculous life could be sometimes. So many years feeling one way about someone, regardless of time and distance, and now it was over. 6 months later, I still don’t know how I feel about all of it. Except maybe a little grateful.

The DJ and I discussed the matter about 2 months or so later. I told him how awkward the whole thing was, how strangely I felt about it. He was candid, telling me he just wanted me to be happy and have a good time. That he didn’t feel like he had any claim over me, and that he genuinely felt that Parker was a good guy, that he also wanted him to be happy and have a good time.

“I may be perpetually unavailable, but I’m not a bastard; you’re still a good friend, and I do care.”

…And that’s it, really. That’s the anti-climactic conclusion to the longest non-relationship i’ve ever had, all wrapped up in one New York City night. It feels strange to write about it now, but I couldn’t have written it any sooner. So much has happened since then that I’m able to be somewhat disconnected about the situation. The DJ and I have spoken very briefly online since, but for the most part he’s rarely around and it’s for the best.

By the end of the next day, I wanted nothing to do with anyone. Sometimes people need a night away from the world, to walk silently with ones’ thoughts and memories in a city of eight million people. Lonesome as can be. And that’s just what I did.

But I’ll write about that later, because that night did take me to some unexpected places, including making my first friend from Amsterdam. For now though, it’s 5am and definitely quitting time. Quitting on the past, and quitting on tonight.

Here’s a song to keep you company that’s been helping me out while writing all this.


Part 9 in this series will be up soon!


*He was Italian and a chef, not a chef of strictly Italian cuisine. There’s a difference.

(Sexy) Song of the Day: PJ Harvey “Is This Desire”

First, I should preface this with saying that not only is this a sexy song off PJ Harvey‘s album by the same name, but that this entire album exudes sex. Throughout, Ms. Harvey’s voice is heavy with a hunger that we’ve all felt at some point. Initially, I wanted to make the song of the day “The Garden“, which has all this imagery that’s both biblical and blasphemous. However, the simplicity, the honesty of “Is This Desire” is what made me go with it instead.


The song begins slowly, with PJ’s raspy vocals poking and prodding you awake. Nothing more than a little drum beat in the background, and then the guitar kicks in, gently pulling you in to the moment. I can feel the warmth coming up around me listening to it, the way my breathing goes in sync with the rising action of the song. It conjures up memories of morning sex, the kind where your body wakes up before you do. The sensation of the other person lying next to you, their skin pressed up against your own, hands slowly exploring, navigating passion. The chorus builds with every kiss shared, tongues and lips and cheeks and teeth, biting down on your lover’s lower lip. Mmph. Yeah, I can’t begin to explain the scenes going on in my head while I listen to this piece of audible seduction. Listen for yourself and you’ll see what I mean. And do yourself a favor, and get the whole album. PJ Harvey’s talent should be shared with and appreciated by the world.

The Business of Getting Off (Notes on the Orgasm)

This is your brain on orgasm (Photo Credit: The Daily Beast)

Back in high school, I had a friend confess that she had never reached orgasm. She masturbated sometimes and had already had sex, but no matter what, she could never cum. Sometimes she would say, “I think I might have cum but I’m not sure,” to which I would always reply, “trust me. If you did, you would know it.”

It was true. About a year later, the same girl wound up in a new relationship and this time, those involuntary contractions finally kicked in. There was no question about it.

Now, before I go on – no, that girl was not me. I was fortunate enough to discover my first orgasm when I was maybe 10 or 11 years old. And when I did, I knew it was love.

But anyone that’s ever cum knows that it’s not always as easy as it was the first time you did. With those overly sensitive days of adolescence behind me, I’ve come to realize a few things about the business of getting off:

It’s not the end of the world if you don’t. It really isn’t. When my friend was experiencing “orgasm-block,” I wondered why it was she still masturbated or had sex in the first place. “It still feels good,” she would say, and eventually it made sense. In those days, it didn’t matter if it took me 2 minutes or 2 hours; if I was masturbating, I was definitely going to get off. But sex was different. My first few partners were never able to help me reach orgasm. It wasn’t because I wasn’t into them and it wasn’t because I didn’t know how to on my own. It just wouldn’t happen. In retrospect, it could be in part because I was much more reserved about sex in those days (more vanilla missionary, not too much foreplay, etc). It could also be due to the fact that my youthful partners were also quite inexperienced (one was a virgin and the others may as well have been) and just as reserved. These are things that a younger version of myself was fine with overlooking. Again, none of them could make me cum so it began to feel commonplace. Plus, I’ve always been of the mindset that it’s more about the journey than the destination. Depending on your partner and how good the sex is, it might not even matter (this is RARE, but has been known to happen). While this is all well and good, I would never complain about reaching orgasm with a partner today, and to be honest, unless the sex is near perfect in other respects, it’s not likely I’ll be sticking around a partner that can’t help me cum for very long.

Everyone gets off differently. Like I said before, orgasms with partners used to be as elusive to me as confirmed Big Foot sightings (still waiting on those). Over time, I became open to all kinds of sexual positions, but getting off continued to be a mystery. One day though, I decided that if they couldn’t get me off, I might as well try it on my own. And so I discovered the key to getting me off was via clitoral stimulation. Suddenly, it all made sense. I could have sex AND get off at the same time! Why didn’t I learn this sooner? Considering the fact that you rarely see women pleasuring themselves to orgasm in movie sex scenes or even in most standard straight porn, it made sense that it didn’t dawn on me earlier. Not to mention how little orgasms are discussed in general (positive discussions about orgasms in sex ed? Definitely not the standard here.) I spent so many years wondering if something was just “wrong” with me that I never realized the answer was right at my own fingertips. Now, this doesn’t mean that this is the key for every woman, but it very often does help, especially if she’s unable to reach an orgasm vaginally (which is a much rarer occurrence than most realize). And once you begin to realize the different things that help you orgasm, the more frequently you’ll be able to do so, and the better a lover you’ll be since this awareness will bring with it more confidence and the ability to let your partners know what they can do to get you off. It’s a win/win situation!

Your mind can be your best friend of your worst enemy when it comes to cumming. There are so many factors involved when it comes to reaching orgasm. Stress levels, depression, performance anxiety – these things can certainly cause a person, female OR male, to lose their ability to orgasm. I’ve been on both sides of this spectrum, and it can become incredibly frustrating for both you and your partner. However, it’s always important to understand that in these scenarios, no one is at fault, and how you proceed from there can really make or break a person. No one likes to hear discouraging comments from their partner, regardless of whether they’re your spouse, friend with benefits, or a random booty call. “Wow, you take too long,” is not a flattering response to your lover’s inability to climax when you want them, and chances are that this kind of attitude will lead to the death of your sexual romps with said partner. Rolling over and falling asleep or fleeing the scene of the crime once you’ve cum, leaving your partner alone in their frustration, is also not an appropriate response. You always want to make sure you do everything possible to help your partner cum (in which case, you’re only allowed to leave the room if they think it’ll actually help – but then there’s a good chance you won’t be invited back in). There are a million different ways to get someone off, or to at least help them get off. And if it still doesn’t happen, just make sure they’re the ones to call it quits or else you might fall victim to a series of faked orgasms, created specifically to avoid complaints from lazy lovers the world over.

(I’ll definitely be writing more on this later.)

There’s just so much ground to cover when it comes to the wonders of climaxing. But in the end, there’s only one thing you really need to know: It’s (probably) the best thing you’ll ever feel. Ever. I know earlier I said it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t happen. And this is true, so long as the opportunity to cum exists in the future. Sexual activity of any kind can be seriously appreciated even without orgasm, but there is nothing in this world like those few seconds of pure ecstasy*.

If you’ve never had the good fortune to cum, well, first, why are you reading this!? Get off your computer, find a little privacy (or don’t, if that’s your thing), and get to working on yourself! Or if you’re lucky enough to have someone that can help you out, get to them now and spend a few hours, days, weeks exploring each other until you’re finally able to. After all, there’s nothing like the ego-boost that comes with getting someone else off, and if you have a partner that’s just too lazy to realize that, move on to someone better (even if that someone better happens to be made of silicone and batteries).

It’s that simple.

*Alright, there might be something that comes close, but we’ll save that for another discussion.

The Quest for Better Sex (In 5 Steps)

While some choose to resolve to shed 20 lbs, find a better job, or finally buy that house for the new year, my only new year’s resolution was simple: have better sex.

I’ve been a non-virgin for about 12 years (actually, my de-virginizing anniversary is next month!) and had plenty of sex within that time. Some of it has been incredible. Some partners have lingered under my skin for years. But there’s also been plenty of just average sex, not-so-good sex, and plain and simple bad sex. Not in the kinky “bad” way, just… awful.

There’s no real recipe for bad sex. Some say it’s from rushing into sex too quickly while others say it’s from hyping it up over time and inevitably being let down. In my experience, it’s a combination of not knowing what you want, not knowing how to read your partner and/or knowing what they want, and being too shy. Being too drunk is also an issue, but we can let that one slide if you’re a great fuck otherwise.


It’s taken me a long time to understand my body and know what I want and what works and doesn’t for me. In fact, it’s a never ending process. Every person is different. Some girls only cum clitorally, others vaginally, others a combination. Depending on body type and, well, skill level, certain positions work better than others. Allowing yourself to really pay attention to what your body wants is a challenge, but it’s well worth it to have better sex.

Back in college, I was a member of the Planned Parenthood VOX group on campus. One day, we had a discussion on how to have better sex and went around the group asking every person what they thought was the most important thing when it came to having good sex. My response? Learn To Communicate!

Communication is seriously a big key (maybe the biggest key, unless you’re with a Magnum man – ha, joke) when it comes to having great sex. It’s something that takes most of us some warming up to, but in the end it’s worth it. There are several ways to communicate with your partner, so don’t start thinking it’s all dirty talk (although to be honest, that works as well). However, you can’t communicate until you know what it is you want to say in the first place.

Here are 5 simple rules so that you might begin to have the kind of fantastic sex I have only more recently begun to realize exists:


1. Know yourself. It makes me sad to think that there are people in this world that have never masturbated. It makes me sadder to know that there are many others who are still too puritanical to explore themselves and find out what works for them. I discovered masturbation from a relatively young age (about 10) and have been spreading the gospel of self-love ever since. You might not ever have a sexually satisfying life until you know exactly what gets you off. And like I’ve said before, everyone is different so it’s not like a multiple choice exam. You can’t just pick what the guy next to you likes and expect the same results.

So how does one go about figuring this stuff out? Fantasizing, for one. Your mind is a playground. Let yourself go crazy in there and see what you come up with while you rub one out. Maybe it’s a fantasy about a professor keeping you late after class and bending you over his podium (wink, wink). Or you might imagine yourself strapped down to a table awaiting your partner while they masturbate in front of you. [Haha, you get the picture. I can go on with these scenarios though!] Case in point, your mind will not lead you astray and neither will your genitalia.

Also, porn. I know some folks aren’t in to it, but to them I say the same thing that’s said about wine: there’s something for everyone. You might not know it at first, and to the untrained eye, Viv Thomas and Bang Bus are on the same level (note: they are not). Find some free porn sites and start figuring out what you like more. One day it might be facials and another it’s group sex and another it’s just straight up missionary style. You might find you’re more open to things that you once thought. Maybe you see a new position you’ve never tried or a fun new toy and you can bring that to the bedroom.

And speaking of toys, you also want to know which ones work best for you (and which you’d like to try on a partner). You might be a furry handcuffs gal or maybe you’ll find an adjustable spreader bar is more to your liking. Visit a sex shop in person (FYI Miami folks: Playthings is having a “Couples Night” this Saturday, January 28th, with drinks, guest speakers, and sales!) or find one online and be wow-ed by the endless options of toys created solely for the purpose of us all getting off.


2. Know your partner. This one may take some time, but then again it might not. Depending on your comfort level and the chemistry between you, it might be really simple figuring out what your partner enjoys. Pay attention to their reactions to different stimuli. Put yourself in their shoes and try to imagine what they might view as sexy and/or what might feel really good. Be giving! Regardless of how generous some of us are, at the end we all enjoy a little personal attention. Experiment to see what works for your partner and what doesn’t. And when you’re at a loss, just ask! I know this can be tricky at first, but a simple “how does that feel?”, “you like that, baby?”, or “what do you want me to do now?” tends to work pretty well. And of course, the more time passes, the more knowledge you’ll store as you explore your partner further.


3. Get comfortable. Nothing takes the sexiness away from a moment faster than someone that is visibly uncomfortable (unless that’s your kink, but that’s a whole other subject). If you’re new to sex, or just not very at ease around new partners, it might take a while. Make sure you and your partner are on the same page. Maybe a massage will help. Make out for a while, let yourself build up to it. And let’s not forget the social lubricant of the ages (not that I’m suggesting you need a drink before sex, but sometimes a nice glass of red wine is enough to get the blood pumping enough so you stop worrying about what they’ll think of your body once your naked or whatever other inhibitions you have and focus on having a good time). If something makes you uncomfortable (your location, the position you’re in, etc.), let your partner know so they can help you find a way to be more comfortable. You’ll find that unless your partner is a total douchebag (in which case, why are you fucking them?), they’ll be more than happy to do anything and everything to ensure that you’re enjoying yourself the whole time.


4. Communicate! Don’t let shyness get in the way of having a wonderful time. All of these steps kind of flow in and out of each other. You won’t communicate very well until you’re comfortable, but once you are, be sure to make communication a priority. If you enjoy something, let them know! “That’s a fucking great position,” “that feels so good,” “I love that so much,” “do that more,” are all easy phrases to communicate what you enjoy. “Let’s try something else,” “that’s not really working for me,” “here, let me try something,” and “you know? I’m just not that into that” are all ways of letting your partner know what you’re not enjoying without being a jerk about it and/or shaking their confidence (this can be tricky as you don’t want egos getting bruised but you want to be honest and let them know that although that might’ve worked on someone else, your body is different.) Don’t be scared to explain. The scene below from Chasing Amy is pretty educational on this stance:


“Like CNN and the Weather Channel: Constant updates.”


5. Lose yourself. If you want to have good sex, learn to stop worrying and just have a good time! Relax. Open yourself to new possibilities. Your partner might be able to teach you a few new moves or they might even turn you on to new kinks you never knew you liked. Don’t put so much stress on the before or after, just let yourself get lost in the moment. Allow yourself to feel everything, focus on feeling good, and you’ll find it. If you have sex with someone and no matter how much you tell them to do this and not that, they still don’t get it, move along! There’s no reason to allow yourself to get stuck in a bad sex routine. I’ve had a few situations where I put my own needs on the backburner and tried to please someone else and at the end, felt wholly unsatisfied. If only one person’s needs are being met, you’re not having great sex. Some people just aren’t sexually compatible, and that’s perfectly fine! Find someone who IS on the same page, and prepare to raise the bar on your sex life. Strive for the best and there’s no doubt you’ll have a fantastic time.


If this in any way improves your sex life, please let me know. I’d love to know i’ve found yet another way to get someone off (or at least to have a positive influence that led to that). For now, here’s a little sexytimes music to get you started on your journey:

Ovaries to the Wall: Let’s Blog About Sex!

Hello, world. I have a confession to make. To those of you who already know me, you probably already know this. Some of you might even know about this from first hand experience. But for those of you that don’t, I think it’s time I came clean. In my regular life, I’m not really shy about this subject, but for some reason I tend to really censor myself when it comes to public writing. Regardless, here it is.



(and I mean, Really Love…)


Yeah, that’s right. Sex. There. It’s out. I love talking about it, reading about it, hearing stories about it, and most definitely – having it (with boys, with girls, alone). Hell, as I write this, I’m already thinking about the sex I could be having right now but am not for the sake of writing about sex.

Now, I’ve been blogging for many, many years. And often, when I’m writing about an experience in my life, I gloss over the sexual aspects. To put it in Seinfeld terms, I have a bad tendency of Yadda Yadda-ing sex.

However, I’ve also realized that when telling stories in my own life, people seem to respond pretty well to the sex parts. I mean hell, there’s a reason people say that sex sells. There’s a reason why Candace Bushnell could technically retire now that they’ve got yet another Sex and the City movie in the works. So then why is it so terrifying for me at this very moment to be baring it all (figuratively, anyway) to the world?

I suppose it’s the same reason why I’m writing this all to begin with. Sex, as old as humanity (and then some), continues to be a taboo subject. It’s mind-boggling when you really think about it. Over the centuries, we’ve created so many rules and regulations in regards to sex. When you can have sex, where, with whom. In some societies, polyamory is king. In others, adulterers can face a death penalty. We live in a society where we frown upon adult men having sex with girls 17 years of age that might look much older, but we encourage the use of school girl uniforms and juvenile pigtails on girls that might be just a few months older (as long as they’re 18, right?)

And I guess it’s all these things that bother me about it. I grew up slack-Catholic but in general, my family has always been very conservative. I know this because I am 27 years old and still cannot sit still in the room with my parents if there’s an impending sex scene in a movie. I still have memories of being told to leave the room or turn around and hum to myself as a child when these would come up.

Throughout my life, I’ve watched movies and television show, read books and listened to songs about men “scoring with chicks” and how Real Men always have a lot of sex, preferably with different people.

At the same time, there was also lot of “girls should be virginal and pure” and “girls who have sex with multiple partners are whores.” Still, throughout this, I found certain female role models who were open about their sexuality. Elaine Benes of Seinfeld, for one. She had no problems telling men what she wanted. She had sex but was also responsible (anyone remember The Sponge?*) She was smart and sassy and good looking without being completely unrealistic and I loved her for it. In later years, my attention turned to the ladies of SATC, particularly Samantha Jones.

Samantha never had a problem telling it like it is. She enjoyed sex, quite possibly more than most people, and never allowed people to put her down or make her feel bad about it.

And why should we feel bad? Why is it that some people are so uncomfortable talking about sex? And why is it important that we have more open discussions about sex and sexuality, and about being smart and safe and comfortable around sex? Because there’s still work to be done in opening the minds of others to the fact that sex is normal, natural, and can be one of the greatest things you experience! And I don’t just mean standard missionary boy-girl sex. Sex can be with a partner, alone, multiple partners, with toys, over the phone, on the internet, even via text thanks to the advent of technology and the steady libido of the human race. Many people still don’t take full advantage of all the different ways to live a sexually satisfying life though. Many people still feel shame about these issues. And on a more serious note, there is still a lot of sexual violence going on throughout the world, especially toward women. This ties in to other sex-related topics: rape, incest, sex trafficking, etc. Those are also subjects I feel very strongly about. Sexual violence perpetuates the cycle of negative views toward sex. Someone that has been raped or abused may have, among other issues, difficulties with their sexuality. Most societies also have negative views of sex workers, whether they be prostitutes or pornographic actors. I could go on and on, but I’m sure you see where I’m coming from.

Basically, I want to create a space to discuss sex because, like I said, I really do love it. Whether it be my own personal experiences and discoveries, or about the topic in general. And I want others to see it and learn things and become enlightened about their own sexuality, or at the very least have a laugh whenever I divulge some of my more interesting personal encounters, as I’m sure I will. (Don’t worry, I won’t use real names so as to protect the innocent!)

So there it is. I love sex, and you’re about to start reading a whole lot more about it soon enough. If that’s your cup of tea, feel free to click on the ol’ Follow or Subscribe buttons on the page and you’ll get more than your fill of cunt-chat and dick-discussion in the future.

Let’s end this with one of my favorite sexy-time songs of all time:


PS. Of course i’ll still be writing about other things – writing and travel and whatnot. It’ll just be a bit more raunchy. I’m sure you don’t mind. 😉

PSS. This post was in part inspired by Girl with a one-track mind and in another part inspired by a former hook-up and friend of mine. You might read about him later.

*Bit of trivia: Luke Danes from Gilmore Girls is the man Elaine is dating and trying to decide is “sponge-worthy” or not