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Why you should always attempt poetry on Valentine's Day

http://english.sina.com/life/2009/0213/218244.html  www.sexwithsue.com, www.solveprematureejacualtion.net, www.schoolofsquirting.com

Valentines1

So it's Valentine's Day. The day when we take a moment out of our hectic lives to say to our sweetie's "You are special, and even with all the chaos surrounding us, I would pick you again." At least that is what I think Valentine's Day is about. Or as your sex therapist, it is the day in the year when you are suppose to to screw like bunnies.  Yeah!

Despite the commercialization of the holiday, I think women want something simple.
My sweetie, world renowned for his homemade "Hallmarks" gave me a card on 8 1/2 by 11 white paper that read:

    Valentines, a special day. My heart is filled with thoughts that say…(something personal and x rated that can't be published here )  But in return you've won my heart, I love every inch, I love every part. You're my chick, all leather and lace, and even with a prickly face. (a comment on my recent waxing endeavor).

I was so moved. Irreverent, homemade poetry will touch me (and most other women I know).  The article published in the National Post said:

"Jenna Walsh, an account executive in Boston, is looking forward to some special treatment this Valentine's Day, but, she's not interested in flowers, champagne or chocolate.

"If I could have anything this year, it would be nothing more than a heartfelt 'thank you,' since it's one of the many things men have difficulty communicating," she says. "I don't think there's any material gift that could show that kind of appreciation or maturity," she adds.

The grim economy has many couples rethinking their priorities, and plenty of women are seeing the holiday as a chance for their lovers to express their true feelings, not just the contents of their wallet. 

In fact, many women want things a partner could easily provide but might never guess.

Lauren Warthan, in Austin, Texas, fantasizes about breakfast tacos served to her in bed.

Along similar lines, Helen Gregory in Brooklyn, N.Y., wants "a kiss and a cup of coffee when I wake up."

So don't panic if you haven't gone out to the store and got something store bought. Take a page from my Valentine. Depreciating, but loving thoughts are way better than roses.

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Why a steady guy makes you less interested in sex

There is new research (at least if you listen to a bunch of Germans from Hamburg. And who has sex in Hamburg?), that once women get a steady guy, and frequency of sex starts a slow, but steady decent. Sound like your sex drive? It turns out that once a woman is secure in her relationship, she would rather read romance novels, and eat chocolate (maybe that’s just me projecting about what I want to do if I can’t have sex), than boff wildly. Actually, there is very little I would rather do tha boff wildly, but I’m off topic again. In the German research, which polled a large sample, showed that  less than half of 30-year-old women wanted regular sex after they had shacked up.
Conversely, the team found a man’s libido remained the same regardless of how long he had been in a relationship. Big surprising news there. We were out at the comedy club a few weeks ago, and the comedian was going on about “how much time women spent looking good for men, and worrying about magazine articles that said that if you don’t look a certain way you’ll never get laid.” He said “women shouldn‘t bother worrying about that, as most men would fuck their sofa cushions”.
So I’m doing some research of my own. Not about how many men would actually fuck their sofa cushions, but what women can do to keep ourselves so horny that the guys can’t keep up with us. “Do me now, baby”, instead of “I’ve got a headache”. So I’m researching any and all aphrodisiacs (pass the green M & M’s), looking into drugs, and how much relationship stuff affects our urge to nest, rather than get naked. If you have anything that works for you, by all means drop me a line at sue@sexwithsue.com.  Otherwise, as my new fridge magnet says,” I’m saving myself for my second marriage – or at least until the next full moon.

A few words about love

Love I’ve been pondering the difference between love and lust – the mass of phermones, and organic chemicals that turns your brain to mush, and your legs to rubber. I’ve loved a few men, and think I’ve even been in love briefly once or twice. I’ve been hurt, helped negotiate a few divorces in private practices, and watched my strong Mother not compromise on the love of her life.

I had the privilege to have breakfast last weekend with a couple in love. He’s one of those military types- posted overseas to fight bad-guy terrorists. She describes how a piece of her is simply missing when they are apart. She wakes up in a cold sweat worried (and rightly so) for his personal safety when he’s on mission. He watched her like she was the only women in the world. However together they were magic. Real magic. The physical attraction between them was palatable. The emotional longing oh-so-intense. They are both a bit over 49, so this isn’t puppy love, but a real, gut twisting, grown-up kind of love. I think great relationships are a gift to everyone else around them, and it’s the eye gaze, the walks in the rain, the way your body rises up with touch, the way you think about them when they are on the other side of the world that for this couple anyway, separates the wheat from the chaf. A real gift. 

I think you can have love without lust, and any bar on a Saturday night will tell you that you can have lust without love, but together the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. I long said that I wanted to be old driving fast cars, wering outrageous colours swearing alot, with a few, much younger, latin lovers. I left breakfast thinking that what I really want as I get older is a love for the ages like my friend and her soldier.  Sentimental from me, The Orgy Queen, but resonating nonetheless.

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The object of my desire

I wrote a bunch of stuff on desire yesterday and then did something before saving it properly and it all disappeared. Duh!  Thought I would rant about something else, but the desire question won’t go away today. I thought desire was something I could orchestrate better.  It turns out that my desires have taken me by surprise this past week. Websters defines desire as:

  1. To wish or long for; want.
  2. To express a wish for; request.
  3. A wish or longing.
  4. A request or petition.
  5. The object of longing: My greatest desire is to go back home.
  6. Sexual appetite; passion.

I’ve been thinking about the sexuality of desire, and how that comes about. My sexual needs are kind of like this symbiotic parasite ready to appear with provocation – or or with no provocation with absolute regularity.  I mean, like most women, I am the most sexually approachable during ovulation, and just before my period. That doesn’t mean to say that I am unapproachable the rest of the time, it just means, at those times of the month  I’ll tie you up and have my way with you before you knew what hit you.   A mess of organic chemistry, is it really pheromones, or scent that triggers lust, or is it the other way around? I’m pondering this as I wonder about the continual fantasy pictures in my head.  No, I’m not hearing voices, but most men tell me that they have a running porno in their head – pictures of women they know and imagine. For me, although not an unfamiliar thing, is getting more frequent as I get older. Who knows, maybe I’ll be the randy old lady with holsters of vibrators, always at the ready to jump the object of my desire….
Deep thoughts from this lightweight blonde on a summer afternoon, but I’ll leave you with this quote from Anita Shreve on the first page of her book, Fortune’s Rock.
“In the time it takes for her to walk to the bathhouse to the waterline, she learns about desire. Desire that slows the breath, that causes a preoccupied pause in the midst of uttering a sentence, that focuses the gaze absolutely on the progress of naked feet walking toward the water. This first brief awareness of desire – and being the object of desire, a state of which she has no previous hint _ comes to her as a kind of slow seizure, as of the air compressing itself all around her,  and causes what seems to be the first faint shudder of her adult life. (page 3)”

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Why sexual boredom may be because of too much intimacy

Sexy5 There’s an article in this week’s Maclean’s  Canada’s weekly magazine talking to therapisr Esther Perel about boring sex in marriages. She says in her experience it’s just as often the men who withhold sex in the relationship (not my experience in practice, but I know there are men who will turn it down).  She said two things that really resonated with me, and that I have been talking about for awhile.  The first is that "desire needs seperateness, a certain space in order to thrive….eroticism thrives on mystery, novelty and risk."  I think this is absolutely true, and having this Linda/Paul McCartney love affair where one person is everything and you never need to be apart (they only ever spent one night apart) is unrealistc for most people.  It can also make the sex seem stale after awhile. I think the best sex is keeping it hot in a committed relationship where you try everything and anything to keep the sexual antics and dialogue spicy.

She also talks about monogamy as a negotiation not an assumption. She says gay couples seem to understand this, but for everyone else, "monogamy is the sacred cow of romantic ideals".  Her suggustion is that throughout your married life you re-do your vows and add, change, edit, the meanings around sex may be the healthies model. I think I agree with her.