The Best Test for Knowing You’re With the Right Person

If you want to know if you’re really with the right person, the person you could actually partner with forever more, the one who could really love and trust and respect and admire and grow with you — not the one who does — but the one who could, I have a real test for you. The Pussy Test.

You see those other tests all the time, those tests and lists about how to know if you’re with the right person. She makes you laugh. He’s seen you at your worst. She loves a night in as much as a night on the town. You fight and make up.

I cheat on those tests. Always have. Yeah, she’s funny sometimes. Sure, he’s seen me with a cold. Yeah, we spend equal nights on the couch and on the dance floor. Sure, we’ve said some things with voices raised and later exchanged apologies, I say to myself, if I want it to be the right person, and the converse if I don’t.

It’s like those Cosmo quizzes. You know which responses will result in which score or category or whatever end game is at play. “Are you geeky sexy, classic sexy or closet sexy?” Question one — Would you prefer to: (a) play video games in your underwear; (b) wear a slinky dress and go out for a night on the town; or (c) cook a nice dinner at home and hopes he asks if he can stay the night.

Duh.

This test is different. I don’t care if you’re gay, straight, bi or otherwise — if you have a pussy, this test will work.

One night in bed, lay back on a whole mess of pillows in as comfy a position as possible with some lovely lighting at play. Nothing too bright, nothing too dim. You can wear a top, if you like, but nothing from the waist down. And ask your partner to sit between your legs. Ask her or him to sit comfortably between your legs and explore your pussy.

I mean really look and touch you sweetly and slowly and take her or his time. Ask her or him to take a look around, spread your pussy open, slip her or his finger up and down and around. Not in just yet. Have her or him massage your outer lips and pull back the hood of your clit and admire you.

Tell her or him what feels good. Invite her or him to ask you about your pussy, and what feels good. What is what. And where your on spots or spaces or edges are. When you’re ready, invite your partner to explore inside your pussy, too. Take your time. Give her or him the time and space and comfort and opportunity to feel the different textures and layers and depths. Talk about what you’re both experiencing.

What’s surprising or exciting. What feels good. Or doesn’t. When she or he hits a spot that you recognize as your G-Zone or your A-Zone, speak up. Or if you find that neither of you know what you’ve stumbled upon, just explore and enjoy and save the research and questions for later.

End your session with orgasm or not. Finish exploring when you feel seen, and she or he is filled with the requisite wonder.

I mean it.

You can shake your head or laugh or call it hippy dippy or whatever you like. But a woman’s pussy is a wondrous thing with the most amazing parts and abilities, and it is simply not given its due in our culture. We are over-sexualized in theory, and under-experienced in practice. It’s time to get in there.

And this isn’t just a test for your partner. It’s for you too, because if you don’t feel comfortable asking the person you’re with to do that, you have to question your relationship with your body and your sexuality. If that relationship is in question, if you’re not whole in that way, how can you be expecting to find a relationship with another human that’s whole?

This test is about pulling back the layers, literally and figuratively.

In lesbian sex, in general, it’s tougher to ignore the pussy. A number of the positions and acts require full confrontation, as it were. But PIV (penis in vagina) intercourse can allow the pussy — and more sadly, the clit — to be universally ignored. He can slide in and back out again without ever giving any real consideration to just what exactly he is slipping in and out of. Certainly, the same can happen between two women. But the logistics alone make that less likely.

This test is about real intimacy and real pleasure and real connection between two people.

This test won’t tell you if you’ve found the one. But, neither will those other tests or lists. One thing is for sure though, this one will certainly tell you if she or he is even a candidate.


Curated by Michael

Original Article

Why Messy Sex is Okay

Over the last few years most public conversations about women and sex have focused on either the “He’s a stud; she’s a slut” double standard or, well, rape.

There’s no question as to whether these discussions should be taking place—they are essential to dismantling a culture overrun with sexual violence—but we lose something when negativity becomes the main lens through which we view female sexuality. We start seeing sex as an activity ripe for shame and harm, both physical and emotional. We also stop thinking about the joy.

Thankfully, there are some women out there committed to exploring the possibilities that lie ahead of us. These women are writing books and television shows that project a vision of sexuality that is truly for us, by us. Theirs is an eroticism that is stripped of that centuries-old sexism baggage—not to mention the female instinct to compare and contrast every detail of our intimate lives—and is just about us feeling good.

Dr. Emily Nagoski, author of the new book Come As You Are—yeah, that come—says that we’ve spent far too long talking about what kind of sex we are having, and how often we are having it, when we really need to be considering is what we actually like. “The thing we are not talking about enough is whether we are enjoying the sex we have,” she tells ELLE.com over the phone. “Not all sex feels good. Pleasure is not obvious. The more we focus on whether or not something feels good, the more we can transition to a more positive sexual experience for women.”

Nagoski says that one of the most important things for women to remember is that a satisfying sex life for one person does not necessarily a satisfying sex life for another make. We are all, hormonally, physiologically, and anatomically quite different, and we also evolve over time. Some women don’t experience spontaneous arousal, but end up getting really into it once things get going, while others have rich sexual fantasies and the urge to act on them. Both ways—and a myriad of others—can lead to fulfilling sex lives for women.

Hot young couple kissing outside on the stairs.

The one main mood killer getting in the way for women? Body hang-ups. And when we’re focused on how we look, we can’t let go and feel. “Your sexual response doesn’t just have a gas pedal, it also has a brake,” Nagoski says. When we start seeing ourselves from the outside, instead of feeling ourselves from the inside, the good feelings screech to a halt.

For Rachel Hills, author of the forthcoming book The Sex Myth, a better sexual future for women will only occur once we stop being labeled by our particular brand of sexuality. This means no more virgins, no more whores, and no more worrying about if we are too much of one or the other. “If this happens, it will open up possibilities for all of us,” she via phone. “We can have it or not have it, be kinky or totally vanilla. Overall, we can feel free to experiment because if this is not how people are [judging women], our sexual lives won’t be such a threat to our sense of self or how society views us.”

Indeed, efforts like the one to reclaim the word “slut,” well intentioned as they may be, still rely on the idea that sexuality is central to our identities. There are also limitations to our ability to redeem the phrase. For her new book, I Am Not a Slut, Leora Tanenbaum spoke to 55 young women and found that those who tried to take back “slut” ultimately had it backfire on them by way of social stigma. She argues that “in a culture where females are hypersexualized, embracing the word ‘slut’ does not seem like a radical protest. It seems like a capitulation.” (So much for SlutWalks, Rock the Slut Vote and Riot Grrl Kathleen Hanna’s famous cri de coeur by way of scrawling the word “slut” across her belly in lipstick, right?)

“MAYBE THIS SLUT IDEA IS TIRED ANYWAY.”

But maybe this slut idea is tired anyway. Like Nagoski and Hills explain, sexual liberation can’t just be about making it okay for women to have tons of intercourse. Instead, it should be about making it okay for women to have all sorts of sex in all sorts of quantities with all sorts of partners. Really, what does a being a slut even mean? We can do better than buying into either side of the slut mystique. And this is where I will endorse my contribution to a vision of a female sexuality we should be striving for: messy.

Hear me out.

Sexual messiness—the freedom to be neither prude nor slut, try things out, and not have one experience come to define you—is something women have been long denied. Messy means that we can love monogamy, except for that one time when we couldn’t help ourselves. Or, maybe, we are disciples of hook-up culture until that fine day when we meet Mr. or Mrs. right and never look away. Kinky? Corny? Idealist? So be it.

Messy means accepting that sex is often clumsy, that vaginas usually aren’t symmetrical, and that a roll on our bellies or some cellulite on our thighs will probably show up when we’re having a good time. Messy accepts that with good sex comes risk, emotional and physical, and that we can’t know until we try it. Messy makes room for the unpredictable, and allows for the eros of spontaneity to enter our bedrooms and bring us into the moment. It also makes room for uncertainty, mistakes, and occasional regrets—all parts of a healthy sex life and, when taking place in a non-violent atmosphere, a way for us to figure out what we like.

And, if you look for it, messy sex is kind of having a moment: On Girls, Hannah’s sex life is all about privileging exploration over perfection or relentless self-critique. On The Mindy Project, Dr. Lahiri has no problem speaking out about what she wants and doesn’t want between the sheets. The best example of this messiness, however, is Broad City, which, among its many other qualities, is a eulogy of sorts for the whole stupid Samantha/Charlotte, promiscuous/prude divide. Sure, Ilana is the show’s resident “Samantha,” except for the fact that she, despite her willingness to admit it, is involved in a pretty cute, and sexually fulfilling, monogamous relationship with Lincoln. Meanwhile, Abbi, the more conservative one, just pegged a dude on their first date.

It’s totally messy, completely f**ked up, and 100% right.


Curated by Karinna

Original Article

 

Great Sex with My Best Friend

I met Sean when I was running a small magazine I created when I was 15 and not interested in my high school’s curriculum. Sean was a kid with big curly hair and braces at one of the nearby booths selling merchandise. He gave me a t-shirt or something and I gave him one of mine and we became sort of carnie high school sweethearts. We made out in the bleachers and in between some tour busses but it never went past that. Of all the people I met both summers, he was the one who stuck as the years passed. I started visiting him in Los Angeles, where he lived, as a means of getting out of my hometown in Canada where I felt like I was in brain jail and he was always there. He was often several hours late. But he’d be there.

I felt safe with him, our courtship had faded as soon as the tour had ended and he felt like my most trusted friend away from home. I began to see him as a brother-figure. He was protective of me and I loved his family. My mom loved him. Over time, the thought of anything ever happening between us felt like a weird Brady Bunch move. Over a period of several years, we would fall in and out of touch as we went about our lives, but we always circled back to check in and the welcome was always warm.

One day when we were both going through a breakup and sought comfort in one another. My boyfriend had been really hard on me about money, work and my body. It suddenly dawned on me that Sean had always looked at me like the sun shone out of my butt. I kept Sean at an arm’s distance because it felt good to have a friend I trusted and felt close to without sexualizing it. In my sudden realization at how good Sean made me feel when I talked to him, I actually saw him as a fully grown up adult, attractive male, and not the goofy teenager with braces and fluffy hair that I remembered (to be fair, both of us matched that description exactly) Somehow organically, we started talking about getting together.

Sean was coming through town, still working for the festival where we had met. I grew nervous and wondered if it would feel like making out with my brother. We talked through those feelings and decided we would deal with whatever happened. We had known each other long enough to know we loved each other as friends first. So I felt safe pulling the plug if it felt icky.

I met him at the festival and chatted with his co-workers while he finished up. We were so happy to see one another and I didn’t even think about the sexy part of it. I was just happy to see my friend and it was his first time in my town, so excitement bulldozed through any underlying anxiety. Once we made it to the cab over to my new place, it became clear that this very much did NOT feel like making out with a brother.