The sculpture garden at The Metropolitan Museum, New York
(For Kay, who wanted me to post a review of my cry-fest locales in NYC, as they say you’re not a real New Yorker until you’ve cried in public here).
The other day, I walked by a coffee shop in my neighborhood, in which I had cried my eyes out some time ago before going to a day-time orgy. I had buried my face in his chest, trying to avoid eye contact with strangers, but of course they noticed, and either tried to look at what was happening out of the corner of their eyes or to avert their gazes uncomfortably. I didn’t say many words at the time, or at least not many coherent ones. I didn’t need to. He knew what had happened. Continue reading →
So I hear some of you have been waiting with bated breath for the results of my Sex Survey. I finally put my number crunchin’ and data analysis pants on the other day, and am happy to deliver some sexy statistics to you.
As a reminder, the idea behind running the survey came from a conversation I had with P, when we both counted our number of sex partners, compared that to the number of people we’d slept with from within the sex party/poly/fetish scene and realized it was a small percentage of the total. The conclusion? Sluts will be sluts whether they’re on such a scene or not. I then decided to poll some other folks on these scenes to see if the same was true for others. And, on average, it appears to be so! Continue reading →