Sex

Plucking the heartstrings

Jeannie Greeley — Mon, 29 Jun 2009 14:00:00 GMT

Every relationship has its soundtrack. It starts the moment you meet on the dance floor, fist pumping to tired Journey tunes. It grows along the miles of lengthy road trips and romantic getaways. It builds as you climax during sweaty sex. Then it haunts you in your sleep like that lady at Wal-Mart with the one eye cocked in a different direction. I’m suffering from what I’d like to call harmonic hurt. The affliction involves the painful plucking of the heartstrings with every note...

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Pet peeves

Jeannie Greeley — Mon, 15 Jun 2009 14:00:00 GMT

When you’re going through a break-up, people are all too quick to offer advice — get under someone else, move on, reconsider suicide. But the consistent medicinal mantra these days seems to be this: “Get a dog!” Yeah, because one of the best ways a single girl can market herself is by carrying a bag of fecal matter wherever she goes. A dog? I lost a living, breathing, thinking human being, and I’m supposed to replace that with a creature that eats its own vomit? Personally, if something is...

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Yogasm: a near-breath experience

Jeannie Greeley — Mon, 01 Jun 2009 14:00:00 GMT

Sex educator Barbara Carrellas is writhing around on a padded mat, heaving and convulsing, giggling and groaning, jerking and tensing, until her tattooed feet stiffen with delight. Circled around her are 20 awe-struck strangers and one seeing-eye dog, all transfixed by a spectacle that seems part religious experience, part epileptic seizure, all ecstasy. It’s what is known as the Firebreath Orgasm — an explosive, solitary experience channeled up along the chakras through a combination of...

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Bugged out in bed?

Jeannie Greeley — Mon, 18 May 2009 18:27:00 GMT

IN THE SACK: Your letters. My responses. All in a fancy, condensed format. I met a great girl and we fooled around some, and I could tell she was holding back. Finally she told me she got HSV (Herpes Simplex Virus) 2! I was shocked and felt bad, but I stopped seeing her because of it. Two years later, someone I’m sleeping with gets it. I get checked out and I don’t have it. A year later, it shows up! I don’t know where I got it, when or from who! I have slept with women and not told...

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Talking Out Your Butt: The Smoker's Dilemma

Jeannie Greeley — Mon, 04 May 2009 14:00:00 GMT

The habit of smoking after sex has never made sense to me. Personally, I’ve always viewed smoking as more foreplay than finale. Yes, yes. Shake your head at the arsenic-soaked loser that I am. I admit, quite regretfully, that I’m a perpetual quitter when it comes to tobacco. I know what it’s done to my skin, teeth, and circulation. But I hadn’t really thought about its effect on my love life until recently. Researching ways to quit, I stumbled upon a report about the role of smoking in...

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G-spot jealousy

Jeannie Greeley — Mon, 20 Apr 2009 12:51:00 GMT

When you’re in a relationship with another woman, there are many small envies that might develop — over thicker hair, better bone structure, smaller thighs, bigger breasts. But the one that really hangs me up is a bit more complex: orgasm envy. If there is such a thing as an “orgasm inferiority complex,” I think I suffer from it. Just when I think I’ve reached my sexual apex, I wind up in bed with some girl that performs the sexual equivalent of an Olympic floor routine. Or, better yet, she...

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Making scents

Jeannie Greeley — Fri, 03 Apr 2009 23:38:00 GMT

They say that human beings are capable of smelling more than 10,000 scents. Why is it then that one singular odor can leave us scarred and wanting to take a toothbrush to our nostrils? For me, it wasn’t just any scent. It was her perfume — a heavy musk that seemed to live in her hair, on her clothes, in her skin. It was both alluring and off-putting, just like her. I should have known then that we were destined for failure. My sense of smell is my strongest — and the only memory...

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Used goods

Jeannie Greeley — Mon, 23 Mar 2009 15:51:00 GMT

I believe it was George W. Bush who so eloquently butchered that age-old adage: “Fool me once, shame on you... Fool me... you can’t get fooled again.” Or can you? This is the question consuming my thoughts as I consider embarking on that risky relationship venture: the second chance. The world is full of success stories of second chances — relationships that ended in disaster, only to later wind up at the altar; the near-divorce that soon produced beautiful babies; the reunion of a...

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In The Sack: Letters

Jeannie Greeley — Mon, 09 Mar 2009 16:33:00 GMT

I have no idea what kind of potpourri of perversion made its way into my mailbox this month. But here’s a taste of what was fit for print. As always, letters have been edited for brevity and to make you people look a bit smarter than you are. I really appreciated your recent column in Stuff@night [Money Talks]. I was watching Suze Orman the other night, and basically she stated that you should never, ever share all of your money in one bank account with your husband or wife. She suggested you...

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Are You Being Served?

Jeannie Greeley — Fri, 20 Feb 2009 18:15:00 GMT

I’ve nurtured a long and unhealthy obsession with people who serve me, dating everyone from the guy at the pizza parlor to bartenders to coffee-shop employees. Though I’m not necessarily proud to admit what seems like something of a fetish, I know I’m not alone in this little fixation either. I have friends who would probably be served with restraining orders if they weren’t tipping their bartenders so well. And I know of others who have written hit ballads for their favorite...

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Label Whore

Jeannie Greeley — Mon, 09 Feb 2009 19:09:00 GMT

How important are sexual definitions? By the time this column is published, I will be seven months into what many people have affectionately termed a “phase.” What they mean by this unsolicited label is that I’m dating a “straight girl” or, more likely, that she is dating a gay woman. It’s a term used by her friends to chalk up what they see as a temporary affair, and by my set as a cautionary warning. It’s one that I haven’t heard much since my college days, when every girl I hooked...

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Status symbols

Jeannie Greeley — Thu, 08 Jan 2009 19:27:00 GMT

On bad Facebook behavior By this point, we’ve all blown our New Year’s resolutions and have reverted to the fat, nicotine-addicted, underachieving losers we were in 2008. Old habits die hard, folks. But I’m holding out hope that we can all band together and resolve to sway the tide of one thing: Facebook-relationship behavior. It’s not too late! In the past month, I’ve learned of the following via Facebook updates: several engagements, one pregnancy, a divorce, several insignificant unions...

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Fruitcake, Saran Wrap, and Papier-Mâché Dildos

Jeannie Greeley — Mon, 15 Dec 2008 22:32:00 GMT

A holiday sex quiz by Jeannie Greeley and Sureyya Moschella Due to the overwhelming success of last year’s holiday sex quiz, after which I was asked to create sex quizzes for Flag Day, Veterans’ Day, and Easter, I decided to whip up another festive installment. Once again, I solicited the help of British-statistician-turned go-go-dancer Sureyya Moschella. 1. What Christmas carol best represents your sex life, and why? X: “White Christmas,” because I’m untouched like virgin...

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Two Legs, Over Sleazy

Jeannie Greeley — Sat, 29 Nov 2008 18:16:00 GMT

The joys of morning sex Is there anything better than a hot gale of gnarly breath in the face to get you in the mood? How about smeared day-old makeup, or the stench of last night’s cigarettes and beer? Crusty eyes, anyone? If these appalling images sound like a collection of the world’s greatest turn-offs, apparently you weren’t listening hard enough when Diana Ross crooned about being touched in the morning. Despite its decidedly less-than-sexy reputation, morning sex is a personal favorite...

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Money Talks

Jeannie Greeley — Fri, 14 Nov 2008 21:35:00 GMT

Balancing finances in a relationship There is a simple mantra in my relationship lately: “No fighting.” It has nothing to do with the occasional fit of rage or emotional flare-up. It came about to reduce the animated sparring matches that erupt in restaurants upon the delivery of the bill, when each of us break into a martial-arts routine to prevent the other from picking up the tab. Our exhaustion from this game led to the “no fighting” declaration. Now whoever utters it first wins the...

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