Wow, this thread has inspired me to share so many things I didn’t even consider TMI. I also squeeze the worms of white puss out of the pores on the side of my nose. My skin is so oily I honestly think I could do this forever. By the time I empty the last pore, the first one is clogged again.
My entire nether regions, balls, taint, ass, everything, sometimes itch like motherfuckers. Have seen several doctors including a dermatologist; pretty much given up and learned to live with it.
Also have the third nipple thing going, but it’s a small one, about the size of a pencil eraser and barely noticeable.
Okay, here’s the original contribution: I lost my virginity at age 24 to a prostitute. It was a horrible experience–I couldn’t ejaculate because of the anti-depressants (any guesses as to why I’m on anti-depressants?), and I haven’t had any sexual experiences since.
Oh, another one! When I was much younger, I had some major burning problems when I urinated for a while. Numerous doctors performed numerous tests, and I even ended up getting a prostate exam at age 8!
I’m not sure I get this second quote, but I’d love to know where I can find all these girls who would want to have two guys at once–or at least have anal sex with me! Whenever I bring up even anal sex with a girl, it’s as if I asked her to have sex with a 10-year-old or something.
Oh, and on the snorting thing–since my post in which I said that I’ve snorted six different substances, I’ve now snorted No-Doz (caffeine pill). 100 mg (half a pill) at a time snorted is enough to give 5 hours or so of alertness and wakefulness. Nothing recreational about it at all, of course, at least at that level (some people report psychedelic experiences with really high doses of caffeine), but it’s nice for when finals come up.
Wow! Tell me about that. I’d really like to hear the story behind that–I’ve always wondered how people go about just getting spontaneous sex, especially from people who aren’t friends, especially from people who are friends’ moms.
Now I wish I would’ve gone to my friend-with-benefits’s 16th birthday party! (I missed it because of traffic–it was on a cruise ship, and by the time I got to the port the ship left.)
My mouth is still hanging open.
How you doin?
No, really. Arizona isn’t that far from Mississippi.
Maybe it’s just me, but I would definitely not at all think it weird for a girl to tell me something is “awesomely amazingly hot”. In fact, I nearly pray that a girl will soon approach me and tell me something like this.
My roommates and I were hanging around late one night a year or so ago. I was the only one at that point who had any sexual experience to talk about, so I was holding forth on some of my exploits. (not that I’ve had all that many) Both my roommates were absolutely horrified at the idea of anal sex. I still don’t think they actually believe that I enjoyed it, despite my assurances to that effect. Why else would one want to do it again? Haven’t found anyone I’d trust for it lately though.
Count me in on wanting to top a man. I have met some guys who want to do this, but haven’t had the opportunity to follow through yet. Same for double penetration.
I have always wondered what it was like to have a penis. Fairly often, I dream about it. My dreams are nearly always about sex, and often about having sex with people that I would never actually be interested in. One semester, I had sexual dreams about my geography professor probably twice a week. It made concentrating in that class really difficult.
I love sex toys and covet my roommate’s box o’ dildos.
I’ve never heard it put that way. Makes sense to me. Of course, I rather like the taste of semen myself. I also know, and like, the taste of my own juices.
I’d never given a blow job until I was twenty-five years old, and now I think about giving them all the time. I fear I am becoming obsessed.
Where does one go to sign up to have regular sexual dreams? Hmm? I get dreams like this. Or, more normally, like tonight’s (why I’m up at 6AM) where the snakes left on a commuter monorail started eating people from the inside out, and then chasing me down to feed them like I was supposed to the first time! And it went on for hours, it seemed like. The women, the men, the kids were all actually dead bodies being animated by these snakes, and they were all hungry for ME. About 90% of my dreams are vivid, violent, and disturbing. 9% are simply vivid and violent.
(Of course the last time I had a happy dream I was depressed for two days thinking of it, and wondering why my life couldn’t have been like than. As you can imagine, I don’t often have happy dreams.)
Unless it is one of the prenhensile ones, it is pretty mudane.
For the first dozen years or, so its only purpose is to get caught in zippers. Then for a few years its only purpose is to point straight out a public functions and other inappropriate times. Then its back to getting caught in zippers. I’ve seen cats that are smarter than a penis.
Never heard of a dude named Anastasia (what my username is based on, my real name) but hey, I learn something new every day here at the SDMB! For the record - yes, I am female. Hear me roar.
Another TMI: I shave and/or wax my entire body, except the top of my head. I hate my body hair. I don’t mind hair on anyone else, and in fact, my husband has quite a bearskin rug growing on his chest. I love it, and I love to run my fingers through it. But I hate the way body hair feels on me. I feel so clean and happy when it’s all gone. All gone.
Oh, okay. (On preview, this is terribly long and not that interesting, but I need to sleep and I’m damned if I’m going to spend time making it more concise.)
Back in the seventies, the kids next door were a boy my age and his sister, who was a year or two older. I mostly hung out with the boy, 'natch, but the last summer I lived there his sister was really into playing “doctor” with me. This mostly involved inserting small objects like q-tips and bobby pins into various orifices, and lots of Jergen’s lotion from a pump.
After my family moved to Vancouver, I found myself spending more time thinking about the sister than my little friend, who was, truth be told, a whiney little brat. When ever we visited, I spent more time with her. We messed around a bit, but never got anywhere. The summer that I was fourteen, I spent a week with them. Her sixteenth birthday was the reason for the whole deal, and I was determined that this time we’d actually get it on. (I’d left my virginity behind about a year before that.)
The atmosphere in the place had changed a lot. The father, a greasy, Elvis-worshipping jerk, had embraced Mormonism in a big way, but failed to sell the rest of the family on it. He moved to Salt Lake City. I guess the rest of the family became reactively libertine. (Or maybe he was reacting to them, I dunno.) Anyway, it was teenage heaven. Beer in the house? No worries. Wanna smoke some pot? That’s cool too. Wanna have sex? Well, there are plenty of rooms.
I was stoked. I was gonna get some action, all right. Then the problem: She had a boyfriend. And he was about three years older than me. He had a (gasp) moustache! Well, that was okay. She had a friend. A friendly friend. I spent a bunch of time trying to chase her down. In the midst of this, little brother went into a deep sulk, because I wasn’t paying any attention to him at all. Fair enough.
I spent most of the time hanging out with this other girl in the RV that was parked outside. Not really getting anywhere fast. A bit of necking. On the day of the actual birthday, things went apeshit. The worst part came first-- the sister’s girlfriend’s previously unmentioned boyfriend showed up, and I was suddenly invisible. Dashed hopes. Anyway, the place was decorated with condoms for balloons. Most of the gifts were tacky raunchy novelty items. I was deeply ashamed of my gift, which was a plush kitty, and way out of place, it seemed. (She had, at one time, a cat fixation.) Anyway, brother bitched through the whole presents-opening thing, and eventually stalked off to someone else’s house. The mother made some excuses and went off somewhere. Liquor was consumed. Hash was produced. Underwear was modelled.
Eventually, the sister went up to her room with her boyfriend. The other two and me started to watch Blue Velvet, but that quickly got old when they started making out on the couch. I went into one of the other rooms and started reading frigging Yertle the Turtle, feeling pretty pissed off.
Not too long afterwards, I heard the front door close. The action had moved from the front room out to the RV. I had mixed feelings about that, but at least I had access to the TV, the videos, and various and sundry snack items.
I’m sitting there for a few minutes watching Blue Velvet and rolling a joint, and suddenly the mother walks into the room. In a teddy. She says when she was picking out lingerie for her daughter’s present, she thought she’d treat herself. What did I think? To be honest, the get up was ridiculous – it was baby blue synthetic material, with little sparkly things on it, and way too many ruffles. It was really not complimentary to her complexion, and that was the least of it. This I did not say, because my reaction was pretty much “:eek:” Hadn’t really thought of her that way at all. I mean, it was clear she was in a party mood, but I didn’t really think she was on the menu. She looked pretty good, though. Late thirties, long red hair, big ol’ hips. Yow! I was really glad that I had just observed some underwear-modelling sessions, or I wouldn’t have had a clue what to say.
I very smoothly expressed an interest in checking out the texture of the fine rayon she was modelling as an opening. Brilliant. Then she told me that she didn’t really like it, but had a much nicer outfit in her bedroom. Further investigation was warranted. She actually did have a nicer get up in there – and it was nice to see her get into it. A standard black and red silk riverboat whore uniform. She also had a very utilitarian vibe and a weird sort of thing I haven’t seen since – a little feather duster in a can of scented powder. I think it was some boudoir variant on dry lubricant. Hey, whatever floats your boat. It wasn’t too long before she was down to her skin again and we were playing with that. I may have applied too much dust to her, because it got up my nose later and was a bit distracting.
Anyway, that’s how that came to pass. Good times.
I still occasionally think of looking up Girl-Next-Door again. I wonder if she still has the same name…? I wonder if her brother would forgive me if I looked him up and transparently fished for her number…?
This stuff is still around today, and I own two cans of it. The stuff I have is called “Honey Dust” - honey-flavoured cornstarch powder which keeps moist areas dry when needed. Great for behind the knees on hot days, under the creases of large breasts, under the arms, in the creases next to the delicates and thighs, and also great for a man’s balls… keeps them from getting all sweaty and nasty. Anywhere that skin touches skin is a great place for it. I personally think it is an Og-send. Every clean, dry woman’s little secret lies in a can of honey dust
It sounds like a drug… but it just keeps you smelling very lightly of sweetness and keeps nasty sweat-sliminess away on muggy days. It also tastes faintly sweet and delicious.
Here’s something peculiar: Although I haven’t heard mention of it in, oh, twenty years, much of it spent with folk who are way into coital accessories, (hallelujah!) over in a GQ thread that I opened just now, jovan posted:
My “Fantasia” lady (the lady who sells me all of my sexual miscellany) sells that stuff now, slowly bumping out the “Kama Sutra” line. They sell most of the same products, but with Japanese erotica on the label I have a few of their products, but haven’t tried the “sweet snow” - I hear it’s silkier, though. Worth a try, I suppose, after my cans of Honey Dust are gone (those things last for-freakin-ever).
Man, now I’m glad you brought that up, I haven’t bought anything from Fantasia for a long time. Think I’ll go do some Christmas shopping for me now.
And maybe something for hubby, like an “Elastic Lassie”… and a Pink Kangaroo for me! …Hey, I had to stay on topic and add some TMI!
What I don’t get is why people find such things revolting/scary even when they know plenty of people just like them do it and love it.
I have a friend–a high school senior, fercrissakes–who is the only girl in her ‘group’ who doesn’t find penises scary and the idea of blowjobs or other penis-reltaed horrors dreadful and awful. She has several friends (all around her age) who have literally attempted to give blowjobs and failed because they were too scared of the penis or of the process. :rolleyes:
I would be down for it, but I’ve never really been asked. Well, I was sort-of asked once, back before I realized there isn’t actually anything wrong with things potentially going in my ass once or twice. I asked a partner if she would want to try anal sex. “You don’t get to put anything up my ass unless I can put something up yours”, was her response. Of course, if that girl were to offer me that now, I would be all over it. I think it’d be a lot of fun to experiment with things together in a mutual-participation way.
[qoute=Harimad-Sol]
I have always wondered what it was like to have a penis.
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I’m fascinated by what it would feel like to have a vagina. I wish I could swap genders for a day with a female partner. That would be so interesting!
This happened to a friend of mine who gave her first blowjob a few months ago. For a while, she was pretty obssessed with head. She eventually got over it.
I also thought about performing cunnilingus all the time, after my first time doing it. I was obssessed about that, but got over it (although I’m glad I’ll get the chance to with an old flame when I return to San Diego).
Oh, and here’s some more TMI: Another substance as added to the snorting mix; i won’t get into that kind of discussion as this is not the appropriate place for it. Just thought I’d drop it for those keeping score.
Also, I just swallowed my own ejaculate again about 3 minutes ago. With such great tasting semen, I often wonder why I have to ask for blowjobs. Or, for that matter, why I can’t seem to get any (in Arizona, at least).
Alright, fuck it. I’ve never participated in a TMI thread but here goes nothing…
Last night my girlfriend and I were having sex. It was that really good, really hot sex where you actually give each other foreplay and get all worked up instead of squirting yourselves down with lube and spasming around for a few minutes.
After awhile she started to get just a little bit dry and I knew it would hurt to finish in her at this point so I asked her where she wanted me to cum, hoping she would instruct me to pull out. She gave me this ultra sexy look and moaned “Shoot it all over my tits.”
“Score,” I thought.
So the moment of truth arrived and I’m arched over her in the missionary position, my spine in the shape of a capital letter C. I pull out and start doing the magic with my hand and all of the sudden I get spattered in the face with something.