Oh thank goodness!!

Well it finally appears that I've been doing something right all these years!

A survey of sex therapists has revealed that quickies are indeed the way to go. Aside from the occasional whiskey dick, my performances usually don't make it past the halfway point of a Phish performance of Run Like an Antelope. Now, if only the survey could relieve me of my other bedroom worry and my perceived...uh...shortcomings. Deep down I have a hidden desire to move to Asia so I won't have press up so damn close to the urinal in fear that I am the smallest man in the room.

Reading further down I see that length of foreplay still seems to be the prevalent problem and concern of most partners. I guess the whole idea still seems foreign to me. Usually all it takes is for me to pinch my wife's ass and I'm sportin' wood. Hell, sometimes a gentle breeze is a nice pick me up or even a Jergins lotion commercial will get the blood flowing.

I've always contended that it's a good thing that we don't mate like most mammals and have our women go into heat, although, it would be quite interesting. I could just imagine that about 10 times a year a woman would walk into a bar and start screaming "Fuck Me!!" and raise her behind into the air and "present" herself. At that point all of the alpha males would either start fighting each other or pissing all over the place to mark their territory. In either case, it would get quite messy until things get sorted out, but there would be no talk of not enough foreplay, I'll tell you that much.

I'm in the wrong business

Just a half hour before the trade show that I attended last week started, I walked around to look at the other booths to see what was new and who was there and gather general info about the industry and my competition. If I haven't posted it before, I am part owner of a family business and we sell physical therapy exercise equipment like latex bands, tubes, stability balls, range of motion pulleys and the like. Most vendors at the display booths were selling similar equipment or recruiting for jobs or schools, or selling software, or selling large, bulky, and expensive medical equipment. You also see some of the chiropractic quacks with their natural cures and back cracking equipment.

Just having completed my look-see around the hall I wandered up to my booth and said hello to the guy in the booth next to me. I glanced down at his medical devices and products to see what he was selling and saw a weird oval pump with a tubular attachment. The sign above it read, "Clitoral Pump". I continued to walk towards my booth and suddenly my brain screamed, "Did that just say clitoral pump?!!"

Nah...

I must've been seeing things. It had to have said, "Clinical pump."

I spun around to double check and noticed the guy start to giggle. Sure enough, it was a clitoral pump. Not only that, but upon closer inspection, he had all sorts of plastic phallic "vaginal dilators that vibrate" and lubricants and a life size female pelvic model.

This guy was selling sex toys!

He was calling them "medical therapeutic devices for women's health", and instead of pornographic pictures on the box they were stark white and clinical. But let's call a spade a spade here, he had dildoes, vibrators, clit pumps, lube and sexual position instructional books. Most of his stuff could be found in an adult book store.

"Hahaha! I get that double take all the time!" said the man who was minding the booth.

"You're a thinly veiled smut peddler!" I remarked back while holding up the clitoral pump.

"Well, women who have diabetes issues with circulation and..." I interupted him before he could finish pleading his case, "You don't have to tell me, I understand completely. Besides, there's nothing to be ashamed of, sex is fun and natural and completely healthy. It probably does wonders for healing. Better than that back straightening device, I bet." I pointed to the booth across from me where the yoga guy who I nearly chewed up and spit out hours earlier from travel frustration was hanging upsidedown on a torture-like device. (see earlier blog about him) I continued my unsolicited thoughts on sex and ended with the phrase, "You're doing God's work."

It was fun for the rest of the show watching others do the same thing as I did and do double takes. There were alot of fine looking young women PT students at the show and I was certainly tempted to ask a few if they wanted to try out some of the equipment in my hotel room later that night. You know- for science. But alas, I don't think Lynn would completely understand my thirst for scientific endeavors and knowledge that could benefit all of woman kind, so I kept quiet and sold my comparatively boring latex items, straps, cuffs and balls.

Senuous Census

Have I had enough intimate partners?

I haven't had more than 1 in the last 14 years and so far I've been content with that.

I suppose I've had "enough" in the past to know what I want and how I want it. No real regrets in who I've slept with or that I could've possibly slept with more if I gave it more effort. Ultimately, the fact that I've found a great partner in my wife makes me a big winner, despite any tallies. Some people don't even get to achieve that and doomed themselves into sexless marriages.

Yet, why do I feel inadequate when someone tells me that they've had X more partners than me? It's not like I'm going to go out and fuck anybody I can just so I hit some quota. It's too much work to get what you want and how you want it (and you put aside the fact that I love my wife and would never cheat on her.).

I guess it's my competitive nature and in some innate way I place value on the ability to score. Kinda sad, but we're animals deep down.

So, I've decided I'm going to lie from now on and say that I've had sex with 10,000 people. That way only Wilt Chamberlain could claim more than me. Who cares if people think I'm a liar? I'll be balla to those who choose to believe me.

"Daddy, the girl from Zoey 101 is pregnant."

My 9 year old son, Jonathan, thought he was informing me of some news that I hadn't yet heard. I do know that Jamie Lynn Spears has a bun in the oven at age 16, it's hard not to know considering she's Britney's younger sister. But I was somewhat taken aback that my son knew this gossipy and scandalous tidbit. He likes the High School Musical shows and some of the other live action shows that are aimed directly at the "tweener" crowd, but I don't recall him watching the Zoey 101 show. So I'm assuming that the news has spread like wildfire in the halls of his elementary school.

The scary follow-up questions that could have come from my 9 year old did not and I dodged the bullet for now. Not that I want to avoid answering questions about sex, serious answers about teen pregnancy is just a facet that I'm not sure that my son can grasp at this age. I suppose I would have given a true but dumbed down version if he had.

Given the akwardness of the moment I experienced I suppose I can start to understand the outrage that some people feel about the announcement. However, there aren't many of us who can claim that we never made a mistake at that age or didn't narrowly escape one as a teen ourselves. The teen-aged brain is designed to take risks and having unprotected sex at age 16 is a walk in the park. Heck, even Jonathan himself is a result of not pulling out in time, and I was 27 and should have known better.

So while I may scoff at the Spears family for being bat-shit nutso and trailer trash, I can't judge Jamie Lynn for getting knocked up as I know I sweated the arrival of my then 16 year old girlfriend's period a few times myself.