Porn Just Doesn’t Turn HER On…But HE Loves it!

Porn is a sticky subject for a lot of us (yes I meant to be pun-ny).

We have our social views:
Everyone watches it!

We have our personal views:
Porn is cheesy, but it gets the job done.

We have our political views:
Porn doesn’t accurately reflect any sex I have ever had or will have…ever.

But I recently saw a political cartoon concerning lesbians, sex, and porn:

The idea was, if you are anti-gay how can you watch “lesbian-porn”

And it got me thinking:

When we watch two women have sex in porn are we in any way equating it with lesbian sex?

Do we equate ANY sexy we see in porn with real-life sex?

And do the answers to those questions differ by gender and sexual orientation?

Better question:

Does ANY woman relate to the women in porn from a sexual standpoint?

I am going to go out on a limb here and say that while I think men (straight and gay) in some manner do relate to porn (they are after all able to “insert” themselves into the scene during masturbation, at the very least) I do NOT think that women relate, at least not on the same level.

Now let me clarify, I am not talking about alt or lesbian or feminist (yes I made one of those) porn, I am speaking of mainstream-porn.

So now the question becomes:

Why don’t we (women) relate?
Because the women in porn don’t look like us? Fuck like us? Orgasm like us?
But, do the men in porn fuck like any men we know? No, not really…

Here we get to the core of the matter, the hilt, while men I think would like to imagine that they fuck like porn stars, women aren’t particularly turned-on at all by the sex-scenes portrayed in the majority of mainstream porn (and yet women are still buying vibrators, it’s not like we aren’t masturbating as much as men, just not to porn).

Example:

This weekend I watched A Room in Rome (a totally female driven extremely sexual film about two women who are lovers), with a another woman and a man. There were multiple graphic sex scenes in the film; in fact the majority of the film is about sex and desire.

To me, these sex scenes were hot.

To her these sex scenes were hot.

To him these sex scenes were…boring.

Why the stark difference in opinion? Because when women watch sex, we want reality because passion is the most important (or one of the most important) component(s) to arrousal and orgasm for us. And when men watch sex, they want non-reality, fantasy.

I am suggesting here that for men stepping out of the day-to-day is part of the pleasure of sex and masturbation, whereas for many women the pleasure is in actually indulging in reality…making it more real…we fantasize about actual lovers or those we wish were our lovers…men fanaticize about women they will never meet.

YES, I know I am over-generalizing and certainly women fantasize about dream-lovers and porn stars and men masturbate to their current real-life lovers. But the interesting and meaningful point to this tangent is that women and men conceive of arousal in sex and masturbation differently, and porn is just a reflection of that:

Why is female-based porn not a huge seller?
We don’t need it.

Why is male-based porn one of the largest industries in this country?
They need it.

So I suppose the real issue isn’t about porn vs. reality, rather it’s about real differences between men and women. And while women all to often get offended when men get turned-on by superficial fantasies, and men appear baffled by what women find arousing…once again we return to a repeating theme:

It’s about accepting and respecting differences and preferences when it comes to sex…variety is, after all, the spice of life. And in the end I really don’t care HOW you get turned-on just THAT you get turned on!

xxx dr.c.

Shame is a soul eating emotion.

“Shame is a soul eating emotion.”

- C.G. Jung

During my time as a psychotherapist, “shame” remained a permeating theme among my patients…one that I also readily related to. Shame is all too often connected to sex, gender, and social status…it is a state of suffering (I would argue) imposed by society (“how others see me”) and not necessarily an inherent mental state.

As a woman who has spend a great deal of my adult life exploring sexuality, shame is not an emotion I am unfamiliar with…although it’s never been a guiding (or rather hindering) force. For me, shame has crept in when I have been far too attuned to the opinions of others and not when I was simply exploring desires…that, to me, felt quite innocent and authentic. So herein lies the paradox (so articulately stated by another, whose post I happened upon today on Facebook):

Can innocence and shame coexist, or are they mutually exclusive experiences?

I remember masturbating as a young girl, maybe age nine or so, I truly had no idea what sex even meant aside from seductive images gleaned from rated R movies; I was simply doing what felt “good”. At some point prior I must have been “given” the idea that sex was “naughty”…but even still I engaged in this act, which I would now consider innocent…and yet, I quite distinctly recall feeling shameful at the time;

It was bad, no…I was bad! 

This, and similar experiences,  have certainly influenced how I now feel about sex, as an adult…how could it not? Although I would counter that, even today, as experimental and “wild” as some would consider my sexual choices…I still feel an innocence about my desires. I understand and acknowledge the judgment that others may or may not attribute to my actions; however, I don’t feel particularly inhibited by that judgment. Perhaps, it’s possible to acknowledge the shame that society imbues and yet not to become a victim of it. Maybe…it’s possible, even as an adult who experiences shame, to be an innocent explorer in the world of sexuality.

I hope so….no, I know so.

xxx

conchita

Your Fetish is MY Fetish…and Mine is Yours.

Fetish,

Is defined by Merriam-Webster as, “An inanimate object worshiped for its supposed magical powers or because it is considered to be inhabited by a spirit.”

The word fetish originally meant “charm,” and it originates from the 15th century Portuguese word feitico, which means false power, object or charm. For example, when the Portuguese explored West Africa and encountered native religions, they called whatever talisman (totems, carvings, beads) they revered a fetish.

To the Portuguese in those days, the fetishists were those who worshiped the unusual. Later on, however, the implication of the word took on a whole different meaning.

Today, Fetishes are defined by the DSM (the “bible” of mental health) as, “Persistent preferential sexual arousal in association with non-living objects, an over-inclusive focus on (typically non-sexual) body parts (e.g., feet, hands) and body secretions…Partialism, an exclusive focus on part of the body.”

The DSM goes on to specify criteria that would merit a clinical diagnosis (mental disorder); however, the main dysfunction being that it hinders ones life/job/relationships in some disabling manner. For most of us though…our fetishes do not have such debilitating effects. The majority of healthy sexually active adults that I know utilize their fetishes as an integral and satisfying part of their sex-play.

There are the typical fetishes: hands/feet, water, hair, voyeurism/exhibitionism, fingernails/lipstick, stomachs, tattoos/piecings, rubber/latex, BDSM.

And then there are the atypical fetishes…that encompass all manner of oddities…things you may have never even fathomed. Working as a Dominatrix I encountered some interesting ones: golden showers, suffocation, torture, cross-dressing, infantilism, pony-play, forniphilia (using someone as furniture, literally), dog training, emetophilia (vomiting)…to name a few.

As a psychotherapist I encountered an even stranger (creepier?) fetish:

Coprophilia, or the poop fetish.

My patient was a beautiful girl really, delicate and fine boned, and she always reminded me of a classically-trained ballerina; however, she was a dominatrix. She often spoke of her clients and the ways in which she dealt with managing/tolerating their particular fetishes, and one in particular fascinated and disgusted her (and me):

The guy who constructed a toilet that fit over his head so that she could defecate into his mouth.

I know…take a moment to breathe. The most fascinating part about this act was not that someone was into it, people are into all nature of disgusting things…no, it was the manner in which she had to psych herself up to do this act that she found repulsive.

And yet even in her abhorrence it was clear that there was a kind of pleasure that she derived from this act, which made me re-consider…perhaps fetishes cannot so simply be defined and dismissed as “partialism” or an inability to relate to another as a whole, some form of lesser connection.

When a fetish is enacted with the participation of another, it becomes necessarily an exchange.

While the above is an extreme illustration I think that many of us can still relate to this concept of fetishism as connection. If you have ever indulged a lover in his or her “special desire” you know this to be true. For example, even if you do not particularly find spanking a turn-on…the simple fact that it excites your lover, by consequence also excites YOU. It is this very exchange-of-kink (if you will) that has lead me to  the belief that functional fetish play can be extremely important and even beneficial in healthy sexual relationships…as it requires one to accept and enact another’s desire solely because it is theirs; we indulge them and in turn we are also satisfied.

With that…I encourage you to…go on…get your kink-on…because it is virtually gauranteed that someone will be there in indulge and enjoy with you!

xxx

dr.c.

(images by: Mayumi)

Give Me 10 Minutes…I Will Show You My Fantasy

Sometimes the night lends itself to playful imaginings…

Sometimes…I have to undress in order to play dress-up…

For you.

This night I mingled fantasies with LastnightsParty.com at Webster Hall’s in famous Trash party, with host Kris Khaos…

and what a lovely time we had mixing nothing but

lipstick,

Jeffery Campbell,

tattoos

sound equipment,

a mic,

 and a tongue.

Thank you for loaning me your lens…and cheers to weekend memories

xxx conchita.

My Ball Gag: A Lesson in the (Bitter) Sweet Sacrifice of Surrender

I planned to write about something completely different today, however a friend sparked a distant memory and…I was too distracted to think of anything else but:

Ball gags.

To me ball gags represent one of the highest forms of non-physical punishment.

They do not hurt, and restrain only minimally.

No the real domination if the ball gag is…mental.

I know I have told this story before, but it’s a good one:

I was shooting for a BDSM website and one of the shots called for a ball gag with attached nipple clamps. I had already done a couple shots with the clamps and was having quite a lot of fun so of course I responded in the affirmative,

“Yeah sure, bring it on!”

I mean how horrible could it be…right?

The gag was this gorgeous blue color, with handmade silver chains attached to delicate little nipple clamps…harmless and beautiful.

And THAT, my friends, was my error: looks can be terribly deceiving.

And so, enchanted by the royal blue color and shiny silver links I donned the gag and clamps for the shot. As I was waiting for the photographer to set up the lights, something started to happen…

Drip

Drip

DRIP

(shit, my lipstick)

I desperately started to try to suck up all of this very non-cosmetic and increasingly offensive DROOL

Sssssllllluuuurrrpppppppppppppssshhhh…

Despite my efforts it was becoming increasingly apparent that not only could I not suck up the slobber…but also, the flow was increasing…and I was beginning to…

GAG!

(Oooohhhhhhhh…so, that is why they call it a…)

In a desperate attempt for help I started to whine between my SLURPS

“mmmmmssssuuuooorrrrrssshhhhhmmmmmeeeeeeeee.”

The photographer looked up, with the most satisfied sadistic expression across his face, and said,

“Oh honey, yeah…don’t try to stop it just let it flow!”

I whimpered, in response. (Fine.)

I let it go…and it went. Long disgusting trails of slobber trailed down my entire naked body. And everyone on the shoot was pleased, except me.

It wasn’t that I was suffering, oh who am I kidding…I was suffering! But more than that, I was…ashamed.

The complete and total lack of control of my body was driving me mad…and the alternative choice was not very appealing: choke to death on my own spit…what could I do? I let it go, let all the slime just spew from my mouth.

I will admit there was a certain pleasure in it, but not the kind of self-possessed pleasure I am accustomed to, no this was more like surrender…I surrendered and my reward was…permission to let my body take over.

If you think about it it’s not unlike the experience of an orgasm, for a woman, you have to let go and let your body take over in order to climax… it is also a surrender to the physical that in many ways that must begin with the mental.

So…the next time you have the choice to either preserve your dignity or surrender it…go for the latter…I promise it will be far more instructive and ultimately more satisfying.

Cheers to wetness!

Xxx

Conchita.

The Nymphobrainiac’s Dance…Cum Dance with Me.

I remember when I was in graduate school, and this double-life or dialectic-life of mine began to develop; many acquaintances (and friends even) were shocked by my apparently illogical life-choices:

“Wait you are studying to be a doctor, and you are_____ (insert any of the following: doing porn, a dominatrix, at a sex party, performing nude burlesque, throwing a sex party, nude modeling, writing this blog)?”

At the time, it felt as if the message was loud and clear:

Two unrelated concepts cannot coexist; rather these concepts, the intellectual and the sexual or erotic, are contraindicative—one works against the other.

Not only do I (now, older and wiser) heartily disagree, but also I would counter with,

I could not have one without the other.

Sex and mind are so inextricably intertwined for me that they are more than simply parallel concepts they are co-dependant. Or maybe that’s not an apt term, there is such a negative connotation attached to co-dependence today, perhaps symbiotic is a better description…one feeds the other.

I could not explore, express, or evolve sexually without also being mindfully connected to that experience; nor could I develop, achieve, or grow in my intellectual pursuits without the drive and energy of the erotic process.

There is no sex without mind.

I first understood this relationship at a fairly young age…around the age of 11 or 12, when I started to masturbate to the 70’s erotica rooted out of our massive home library…or to steal and consume my father’s (hidden) Playboy magazines:

Exploring the sexual calmed me; it brought me to center and allowed me to focus on mind.

In high school, when I was working on a paper…writer’s block? Masturbating cured it. Too tired to finish? Well “finishing myself-off” always seemed to re-energize.

Yes, I understand perfectly well that some might characterize this behavior as deviant and as an unhealthy reliance on a socially unacceptable method of mindfulness (yes that’s right, I just compared masturbation to meditation!), but I would disagree. In no way has my work ever been impacted negatively by these mind-sex collaborative efforts; in fact, I would say that this process of self-understanding and self-regulation has only improved my productivity. Truth be told, I still employ this method today when working on a frustrating project, and it continued to work just as well!

I believe that there is something valuable in attending to and developing seemingly variant aspects of our psyches…it is the true dialectic of life; all of these disparate concepts eventually have to mesh in order to reach some kind of equilibrium (or peace), don’t they?

Certainly these are the thoughts and ideas behind what I playfully term: the nymphobrainiac:

It is a life of balance, a life that doesn’t mindlessly exclude or include, rather one that strives to explore all aspects of curiosity and desire, no matter what the origin…where one experience or thought feeds the next…no matter how seemingly atypical or abnormal those combinations may seem…it is LIVING a truly INTEGRATED LIFE.

Today I wrote about my dance, the one whose steps are tricky and require as much grace as they do strength and endurance…perhaps you will be encouraged to master your own dance…so that we may one day…dance together…

xxx conchita.

‘Fitness for Better Sex’ – You Better Believe IT!

Physical activity has always been important to me.

Whether it was ballet, or gymnastics, horseback riding, or swimming…as a child my mother instilled in me a strong connection between mind and body that sustained through adulthood.

If my body is healthy and strong, my mind is healthy and strong.

One doesn’t supersede the other, and although I certainly hold the mental above the physical…in terms of attraction…I know for me, one accompanies the other.

Because of this belief, as an adult, working-out is like brushing my teeth: a necessary behavior for maintaining my health and preventing illness…and something that keeps me fresh and shiny…(ok well perhaps I went a little overboard with that metaphor).

Seriously though, I think that fitness is as much a part of who I am as any of my characterlogical qualities, and most of the time it feels less like something I “have to do,” and more like something I, “won’t do without.”

What about the obvious connection:

Fitness and sex (?)

The theoretical connection (equation) might look something like this:

Look Good + Feel Good = (Feel + Look Sexier)/More Sex.

With such statistical proof…one would wonder why everyone isn’t working-out RIGHT NOW!

Which brings me to a concept like ForTra (“Foreplay Training for better sex.”) founded by the brilliant and beautiful Kat ForTra, her link is over here to the right on my blog (ForTraDVD.com) where she always has some wonderfully informative and sexy tips regarding the fitness-sexual health connection.

Her theory is a mutually dependent concept:

Sexual stimulation will improve your workout,

and your fitness level improves through sexual satisfaction (by self and/or other).

That said, when I consider the healthiest relationships in my life, and I have had a myriad of extremes, I think that the most balanced ones were those in which BOTH partners (or all, in some cases) engaged in and committed to in a consistent fashion some form of exercise or fitness. This cannot be a coincidence. I am not suggesting that anyone (myself included) was some sort of fitness fanatic, who has time for that sort of thing, rather I am saying that I believe a real correlation exists between the level of one’s confidence and satisfaction with his or her sex life and their level of fitness. If we can set aside the obvious pleasure of an in-shape body (who wants to, but suspend your disbelief for a second), and focus on our own experience of self…

Fit feels better.

Being healthy allows you to experience yourself more fully as a sexual being, and in turn can only impact your sex life positively!

I know this all sounds like a given, but I wonder how often when we are at the gym…pounding out reps…we are also saying to ourselves:

THIS SET IS GOING TO IMPROVE MY SEX LIFE!

Yet, in essence…it is.

Something tells me our next workout (yours and mine) will need no further motivation.

With that, on this Wet Wednesday…cheers to busting out that extra rep…for SEX, if nothing else!

Xxx

c.

(All images by http://www.BPSProductions.com)

“What kind of party IS this?”

“What kind of party is this?”

I have heard it time and time again, concerning my events or smaller get togethers.

The simple answer is:

“It’s an intimate event for friends and lovers.”

The implied meaning being:

This is an adult-themed sexually-charged party, for those who comfortable enough with themselves and their loved ones to explore and express their desires in a respectful and safe manner.

Response:

“Oh so it’s a swinger party!”

Answer:

“No, this is a party for everyone, inclusive of all orientations, genders, fetishes, disabilities…abilities…shapes…sizes, etcetera.”

Question:

“Do people have sex?”

Response:

“If they want; no, if they do not want.”

Question:

“Are they naked?”

Answer:

“No, usually it’s just me…and anyone else who I am successful at undressing.”

I suppose the short of it is:

I wanted to create an atmosphere of sensual abandon, not a place of a singular or exclusive mindset, rather an INCLUSIVE mindset…a space where people perhaps get to be and do things they have only fantasized about in erotic imaginings. It’s a rather ambitious mission statement I realize, but it’s mine…and my only wish is to make it OUR REALITY.

As my friend Marselette always says, “Party on, or move on.”

xxx conchita.

(image credit: www.bpsproductions.com)

The Vanilla Party 'Smooth and Creamy" Pics, NYC

Reblogged from The Vanilla Party:

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

DMA Events NYC's Vanilla Party last month was such an intriguing mix of guests…the images capture the feel perfectly…I look forward to the next experience! Enjoy the tease...and yes, I am the blond with the crop-cut...xxx conchita.

Life Masks

‘Everybody wears a mask. Hadn’t you noticed? We put them on for one very good reason: we dislike our own faces…

It’s not hypocrisy so much as aspiration. we wear them to persuade ourselves as much as others…

Friendship, fairness, loyalty, dignity–what are they but lovely masks, which we wear till they begin to pinch and then let fall?’ –Life Mask, Emma Donoghue

xxx c.

(images by Michelle Wild Photography)