Tag Archives: stagnant marriage

How Important Is Sex to A Relationship?


Do we as a society over emphasize the importance of sex to the detriment of our relationships?

By Freddy and Eddy

According to the latest government statistics, the top five reasons for divorce are as follows:

1. Infidelity
2. Communication breakdown
3. Physical, psychological, or emotional abuse
4. Financial stress
5. Sexual incompatibility

As you can see, two of the top five involve sex, with infidelity finally jumping ahead of financial stress after many years of holding the top trouble spot. Sex, it seems, occupies an immensely important role in the success of couples, despite the fact that, according to the Kinsey Institute, the average number of times per week that sexual intercourse takes place is less than twice and that figure drops as couples age (as an aside, married couples tend to have more sex than single individuals who date). Is it possible we simply put too much importance on having a hot sex life when in fact a merely tepid one will be just as rewarding?

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Sex and Fitness: Good Health = Great Sex

Finding your sex life ain’t what it used to be? Maybe you need to hit the gym…

From Psychology Today…

marieLeg cramps, problems catching your breath, overall fatigue, dehydration – all of these things can happen during sex. On top of these issues, you might suddenly in the midst of passion, think of all of your woobly bits – the parts of your body you dislike. Maybe, to make matters even worse, you realize the position you are in and your partner’s perspective of your body. “Ugh!” you sigh.

Sex can be physically tiring, just like any other physical activity, particularly if it’s sustained for a long duration. With the spring around the corner, and people’s thoughts turn to love (and lust), now is a good time to think about exercise. The link between physical fitness and sex is an interesting one, and one that should not be underestimated.

Getting enough sleep, eating right and reducing stress are all important for having a satisfying sex life, but they are also really obvious and talked about elsewhere at length. What is less discussed is the importance of getting exercise before you end up in bed with your special someone.

Exercise that is performed over a sustained time leads to a so-called “runner’s high,” caused by the release of endorphins. These endorphins are stimulating, and as well as causing us to feel great, they stimulate the release of sex hormones. The added bonus is that exercise causes us to feel better. It elevates our mood and creates a feeling of calmness (albeit after we have had a chance to cool off and relax). The lowering of heart rate, improved digestion, lowered blood pressure and lowered stress hormone levels combine with the feelings of well being caused by the endorphins. Add to that an increase of another hormone, oxytocin, and the result is a relaxed, content, person.

lcgallery4exampleFor women, the link between exercise and sex has been explored by Cindy Meston and her colleagues. Their results indicate that working out – albeit vigorously – primes women’s bodies for sexual activity. It is not simply that exercise increases genital blood flow or makes women sexually aroused. Instead, there seems to be something, as of yet unidentified, that prepares women’s bodies. After working out, she found that women’s bodies respond faster and more intensely to sexual content (such as an erotic film). Her findings are exciting because they counter the long held belief that relaxation is necessary for a good sexual experience, and assumption that might be due to the link between anxiety and erectile problems for men. I should mention that so far these effects have been documented immediately after exercise and seem to diminish quickly- indeed, they seem to be the strongest 15 minutes after exercise and fade fast.

As for men, sexual experiences also benefit from exercise. White and colleagues (1990) had two groups of men, whose average age was 48 years, all of whom were sedentary but healthy at the start of the study. One group engaged in walking, while the other in aerobic exercise. The latter group reported higher levels of sexual intimacy, more satisfying orgasms, and more reliable sexual functioning. Thus, men who are physically inactive and then aerobically exercise three or four days a week, regularly, for at least an hour at a time, soon report more sex and better sex. However, all men experienced an improvement, leading the researchers to conclude that enhanced sexuality is directly correlated with their improvement in physical fitness.

Satisfying sex lives isn’t just about the nuts and bolts of biology – it also involves self image. People who exercise often have a positive self body image, which might make them simply enjoy their bodies more, too. Penhollow and Young (2004) found frequency of exercise and physical fitness enhanced attractiveness and increased energy levels. They write that those who exercise are more likely to experience a greater level of satisfaction and a positive perception of self, which may cause them to believe they are more desirable and may perform better sexually

One last thought – sex itself is a physical activity and burns calories and increases fitness. Many factors influence how many calories are spent during sex, but most reports seem to indicate about 85 for a half hour to hour session, which is about the same as bowling (see this link for calorie counts). Unlike bowling, though, sex can also increase self-esteem, cardio-vascular health, emotional intimacy, improve sleeping, and increase immunity!


Penhollow, T. M. & Young, M. (2004). Sexual desirability and sexual performance: Does exercise and fitness really matter? Electronic Journal of Human Sexuality, 7, http://www.ejhs.org/tocv7.html.

White, J., Case, D. A., McWhirter, D., Mattison, A. M. (1990). Enhanced sexual behavior in exercising men. Archives of Sexual Behavior, 19(3), 193-209.

Wisdom: 33 Years of Loving My Wife’s Body, by Hugh O’Neill

Alicia cleaning bathroom floor small

Is this when Alicia is at her most beautiful?

You’re hot for him, he’s hot for you, but how will he feel three gravity-heavy decades from now? Hotter still! says this husband.

She had just emerged from the shower wearing her trademark terrycloth ensemble – one towel wrapped, if barely, around her torso, another turbaned on her head. Sacked out on the bed, I pretended to watch the Mets game, but my attention was, as always, galvanized by her body. With the play-by-play burbling, I peeked at my partner of 33 years as she bent and stretched, rubbing herself dry in the half light. I dug the come-hither of her curves, the plain beauty of this body that had been the engine of my longing from about the time I had first learned to yearn.

As I lay there, struggling to restrain myself – she’d had a long day – I considered the changed her body had gone through over our years together. In defiance of conventional wisdom, the tick-tock of time and the stress of two pregnancies have only enhanced her. Parts that were merely pert are now graceful and inviting. Though she isn’t happy with what she calls “gravitational effects,” she has, if you ask me, only gotten better with age.

And so I decided to tell her. I waited as she dressed for bed, shimmying into black panties, snapping on some pajama pants and finally slipping on a T-shirt that lingered over her head – showcasing her breasts just a beat longer than she would have if she’d had no audience. When her face popped into view, she took a sort of bow – blowing me a kiss – and scooted toward me on the bed. Maybe she hadn’t had such a long day.

“Your body is more beautiful today than the day I met you,” I said, as she cuddled with purpose next to me.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean,” she barked, bolting upright and, in a flash, out of the mood. “You are comparing my body now with my body then? Why?”

I suddenly realized that I’d stumbled down a rabbit hole, into the land where women assume that when it comes to beauty, younger is always better. More precisely, women assume that men think younger is better. It’s the ground zero of female insecurity, where too many women spend too much time. From where I sit, it looks like one scary place.

That night, we had a long discussion – well, my wife did most of the discussing – that bounced all over the place. She wouldn’t even entertain the possibility that what I had said could be true. Could a middle aged woman be beautiful? Of course, but it was scientifically impossible, she cliamed, for a woman of her age to be sexier than when she was 20 years prior. She could live with what happened to her figure, she said, but she’d be damned if she’d be pitied. When I said something deeply brilliant about how beauty “doesn’t even exist until it’s perceived,” she threw a slipper at me.

It was hard to blame her for not understanding. After all, what could she know about the form she inhabited? She was too close to it to see it clearly. Does the dancer see the dance? I, on the other hand, was the world’s leading expert on her body. I’d had a front row seat for its whole story.

Slinky, stong, and mysterious.

The first time I saw her, she was 18 years old and wearing a miniskirt that the Sisters of the Divine Compassion, from whose high school care I’d just graduated, whould have called an “occasion of sin.” It was made of buckskin, more a wide belt that a skirt really, and it barely covered her assets. My first goal that had nothing to do with baseball was to touch that skirt. No, to grab it. OK, to toss it inot the corner. At first, her body was purely and aspiration to me; it taught me how to dream.

Dateline: Arches National Park, Utah. It was the first trip for two Eastern sea boarders to the vastness of the American west. Throughout a morning hiking up trails, the seat of her shorts was my north star. I ignored the epic vistas, enjoying her geography instead, wondering if a high noon quickie in a national park was a crime and whether I cared. But by the afternoon, lust morphed into an engineer’s admiration. The backs of her legs, her hamstrings, and calves, by then rusted with red-rock dust, seemed less luscious than they did powerful. It was the first time I appreciated her plain physical strength, a strength on which I would depend for years to come, to lug groceries, to lift children, to stay up all night in the emergency room with a croup-stricken four year old so she wouldn’t miss the pediatrician when he made his rounds. I’ve felt grateful for her body. It has lightened my load.

By our wedding day, after a decade together, her style had evolved from Joni Mitchell to Katharine Hepburn, and our marriage was our own Philadelphia story. I remember two things about her body from that celebration; how her dress, blue with a black pattern and a kicky thirties cut, whispered, silky and promising around her southern hemisphere as she turned to kiss and talk with the members of our tribe; and the energy of her face. As we danced, she beamed at everybody she loved, working her most critical muscles – the ones that help her smile.

When my wife was pregnant, she was sick to her stomach virtually every day. And though my hands-on access to her body was limited by the fact that she was usually about to the throw up, she shared herself in a quiet new way, bu sitting on my lap. Before then, she hadn’t been much for cuddling, but when she was carrying the kids, she would nestle into me. I enjoyed the fullness of her shape as her breasts and belly swelled. During the actual ordeal of childbirth, I was a stand-up-by-her-head husband, avoiding to the best of my ability glimpses of actual blood and gore. I got the message nonetheless and understood the toughness at the heart of motherhood. Since then, her body, which had been a playground pre-kids, has seemed intriguing, as though it had a superhero secret to go with all the obvious bells and whistles. I knew what her body had been through and loved it the way a man loves a comrade who has taken a bullet on his behalf.

Last summer, my wife sunbathed while I went for a run down a New Jersey beach. Staying fit was my cover, but as I ran, huffing and puffing, I drank in women of every shape, every color, every age, and every taste in bathing suits. I actually thanked God for his work. When I got close to our spot on the beach, I saw a woman emerging from the surf. She tipped her had back, slicking her hair smooth with her hands, revealing her armpits and tilting her breasts upward into the setting sun, and I felt obliged to slow down to admire this stranger. It was only when she started to jog through the shallows that I recognized my wife’s unmistakable gait. I loved her body then as an object, the way a man loves anything beautiful.

It’s about character, not collagen.

Women are often critical of male lust. They resent that it’s undiscriminating, that a well-married guy can appreciate the new secretary in the office or even the third dancer from the left in the latest music video, that lust may have nothing too do with love. But when it comes to aging, that’s not bad news. We’re not subtle. We don’t even notice most of the incremental changes in you to which you’re so finely attuned. And the shape-shifting we do notice rarely throws us off our sexual game. You may think you’re less appealing because you’ve gained weight or a few wrinkles, but we don’t think that. We want you – in all shapes and sizes. Wanting is what we do best.

Sometimes I find myself giving my wife an appraising once-over, as though I’m examining a used car. She has sustained a couple of dings over the years: two small burn marks on her leg, plus a slightly bent pinkie thanks to an icy path her husband should have done a better job of clearing. And I know that as time goes by, I will have to love her body in a brand-new way. As her bones get more brittle and her balance a little less sure, I will have an ever growing obligation to watch over her body, to love it the way a curator cherishes a work of art.

I reflected on this all as she ripped into me that night for my failed attempt at flattery, and finally got fed up with listening to her. I felt as though somebody had to stand up for the body that had stood by me through it all. I gestured for silence and claimed the floor.

“My dear wife,” I began. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I do think you’re beautiful because of everything I know about you. Maybe it’s because when I look at you naked, I see your courage, not just your caboose. Maybe you’re actually an old hag and you just look beautiful to me because of the 10 million laughs we’ve shared. Maybe it’s because your body carried my dazzling DNA forward into the world. Maybe it’s just because I’m addicted to your scent, your lips, your hips. but guess what: I don’t care. We don’t have to agree. I’m entitled to think what I think. If you want to swallow the cultural propaganda that judges women by the collagen in their skin and not the content of their character, feel free. go right ahead. But I’ve got no interest in it. Zero. Zip. Nada.”

Normally, my “Zero. Zip. Nada” line is gasoline on any fire. But not this time. She just sat there, and the room got deeply quiet.

“If you want every time you look in the mirror to be a damage assessment, that’s your choice,” I said. “But I just don’t see what you see. If you ask me, life is too damn short, and I’ve got no time to be mourning, especially when a celebration is in order. My God, look at you.” The catch in my voice surprised even me.

She got up from the chair and crossed toward me, reaching down and slowly pulling her T-shirt back over head, dropping it to the floor. I marveled at the evolution of her body, its ascent over the years from naive to womanish, from brand-new to burnished by everything she knew, enriched by her ability to pay attention, to inhabit the moment with a lucky man. When she put her arms around me and kissed me, she felt like all a fella could handle, completely at home in the body in which we’d both been blessed.

Erotica: I Can’t Do This Anymore, by Lady D, via AfroErotiK

We have been HUGE fans of AfroErotiK for a number of years and encourage you to visit their website for one of the most unique erotic collections on the web. Here is a sampling of what you’ll find within its content.

I Can’t Do This Anymore

By Lady D

“I can’t do this anymore.” Sheila murmured to herself. She had been clicking away at the keys on her computer for so long that her eyes were beginning to burn. Sheila had been a novelist for years. Publishing some of her best work in her college days, Sheila was on a new found mission to reinvent herself through her art, win a prestigious award from her efforts, and manage to maintain her sanity through it all.

She picked up her phone to check for any new messages she may have missed in the fray of character development and proper punctuation. She almost secretly hoped that her husband Francesco would have texted or reached out in some way. Lately their relationship had been on the edge of slight disaster. Sheila worked her ass off to try and make her marriage work and she was all aware of Francesco’s many attempts to make and keep her happy, but to no real avail.

Sheila didn’t quite understand what the problem between them had truly been much less where it started from. She noticed things were incredibly different one night watching a late movie on the couch. She groped Francesco’s large bulge underneath his sweats, not only because she was frantically hot for her man, but also because she knew it was his favorite thing for her to do during a good movie.  But this time without so much as looking up from the screen Francesco simply slapped her hand aside. Sheila was so shocked and disturbed that she never mumbled a word; she just stood up slowly and walked into their bedroom where she fell asleep before he even checked in on her. What had she done wrong? That would be a question she would increasingly find herself asking herself; her mind, her culinary skills, and now her stroking? It was becoming more than obvious that the intense passion they once held for each other had somehow fizzled into a much less desirable flame.

Bored out of her mind, Sheila began to search through her computer’s history. Satisfied at how quickly she was able to retrieve the link this time, she let out a gasp of victory when the two lesbian lovers on the homepage of the website appeared on her expensive laptop screen. Sheila was a straight woman that did some experimenting in college like most people. While she never pursued a relationship or a casual sexcapade with another woman she was highly drawn to the idea. On most nights like tonight were she is left in the office to her own devices, she enjoys exploring the lesbian websites as she explores the wet folds between her legs before she goes to bed.

This night was different. Tonight her sexual frustrations were completely affecting her. The way those women on the videos looked as if they were in sheer ecstasy, taking one another with no remorse, no reverie. The gentle way they sucked and licked and kissed all over each other made Sheila burn inside in a way that she never had before. She wanted what she saw- ultimate pleasure. But she knew that her husband was in a mental/emotional place where they weren’t exactly connected and therefore Sheila wasn’t very interested in trying to have sex with her husband much less help him to orgasm.  It had been so long before Sheila had a real orgasm. She pondered the thought as she softly tugged on her ready nipples. Sheila was just about to get into a serious groove when her phone began to gyrate in vibration on the mahogany work desk. Instead of answering her cell phone she used the phone to rub herself through her already soaking pajama pants. She had let her head fall backwards and began grinding against the feel of the awkward knot that was pressing against her concealed clitoris. On the video, the Latina lovers were 69’ing each other. The sweet sound of wet sloppy slurps combined with the heightened moaning of each woman, almost competing, sent Sheila into a whirlwind of nirvana. Completely consumed, Sheila unbuttoned the first four buttons of her pajama shirt, pulling it open to reveal her enormous cocoa covered breasts. Her nipples were erect and begging for pleasure. She put her phone back on the desk, never opening the flip phone to see who was calling; she then stuffed her left hand into her pants as her right hand, wet from the tip of her tongue, teased and tickled her nipples.

She began grinding against her fingers as they spread open her pussy lips and slid up and down her flowing pathway to make every each of her mound decadent and moist. She landed the tip of her middle finger directly under the hood of her clit and began to move it in a soft circular motion. Sheila felt insatiable. It seemed like the better it felt for her, the better it felt for the ladies on the screen. She was now slouching halfway out of her seat, jabbing deeper and deeper into her silky hole, making herself shake and curse violently, when the door to the office burst open.

“Sheila, I have been trying to call…” Francesco nearly yelled in curiosity before he was stopped dead in his tracks by the scene that he saw before him. He knew his wife was insatiable. Back in the day when they first got together that was one of his greatest attractions to her. She was vivacious and full of life and their love making was unlike anything he ever experienced with another woman, in the States or in his homeland of Puerto Rico.

Mortified and interrupted smack in the middle of a wildly intense orgasm, Sheila looked at her husband with the odd combination of sheer terror and absolute lust and release. No one spoke until the sounds of her climax and the sound of the ladies cumming into sheer perfection had subsided. For that entire moment Francesco was frozen in disbelief. It was as if he had just met his wife of ten years for the first time. He never heard of her talking about an attraction for women before, even when they were dating, so what he was witnessing in their home office that night literally stopped him in his tracks.

“Whenever you’re done, I guess, just meet me in the bedroom.” Francesco said in a breathy whisper before leaving the office.

When Sheila met her husband in the bedroom she couldn’t help but thinking worst case scenario. She also couldn’t help but notice how exceptionally put together her husband was that evening. Francesco, already an extremely handsome man; standing 5’10, short cut hair with deep waves, deep butterscotch tone, athletic physique, with the most beautiful golden eyes and Colgate smile you’d ever seen! Tonight he was wearing navy slacks, a purple dress shirt, and a tie that he had loosened that brought both colors together smoothly. She walked up to him and sat on the edge of the bed next to her man.

“So how long have you been doing what I just saw you do?” Was the best he could come up with, his mind still spinning from the sight of it all.

Sheila breathed deeply and prepared herself to be completely open with her husband. Yes, the marriage was in a rocky place but he was still her best friend and the head of her life. She didn’t want to make a bigger deal out of it than she thought it was so she just spilled it. Telling him of her lesbian desires and how it started when she was in high school. She and a dear friend fooled around with each other one night when they were sleeping over. She did some experimenting in college that only piqued her curiosity. After meeting Francesco her senior year she cut of those desires and decided to focus on their relationship. She also told him of how she felt that the fire between them had seemed to disappear all of a sudden and that’s what started the internet porn. She was very sorry for her actions and she never wanted to do it again, she just wanted their life back. After taking a long moment of silence Francesco told his wife that she had nothing to be afraid or ashamed of. He was so taken aback by catching her in the act, but he admitted that it was the hottest he had been for her in a long while. Telling her how he nearly forgot how sensational she was, and listening to the sounds of her climax nearly brought tears to his eyes and he watched her and remembered what it was like to make his wife sound like that. After a long talk they decided that bringing another woman into the bedroom for one night was probably the anecdote they needed to get the passion flowing back into their marriage in the way that they wanted.

Sheila started off excited. But after weeks of the both of them internet searching for a lover to no avail she began to get discouraged. Craigslist was popular for such encounters but it truly freaked Sheila out to know that something horrible could possible go wrong with the divine experience she was so graciously granted. After working on her novel late one night she climbed into the shower before pouring herself a half glass of wine and grabbing a chocolate almond bar from the fridge. She noticed missed messages on her phone from Francesco explaining his late night photo session and would be home as soon as he could. Even though she understood completely she couldn’t help but to instantly feel lonely at 11:40pm on a Friday night. She decided to go out instead of watch TV so she put on some make-up, moisturized and fluffed her natural curls that fell on her shoulders, and slipped on a little black dress that hugged her in all of the right places. Sheila was an amazingly beautiful dark skin, full figured woman; 5’6 petite frame, full coconut breasts, and thick legs and thighs that made her husband hard when he watched her oiling them down.

Sheila settled on a bar lounge that served THE best margaritas in the city. She took her place at the bar, ordered her drink, and began to people watch. She noticed how beautiful everyone looked. The DJ was playing all the right grooves. It didn’t take long for Sheila to order another strong margarita and let her inhibitions all the way down. She was moving back and forth with her eyes closed, drink in hand, straw in mouth, when she was interrupted by a voice seemingly whispering in her ear about the seat available next to her. When she open her eyes Sheila nearly creamed herself from what she saw. One of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen; slightly taller than her, toasted milky skin that wrapped around the thickest body she swore she’d ever seen, long flowing dark hair, and a smile that would make her dick hard if she had one.

“No one is sitting here, help yourself.” She responded. Sheila didn’t know necessarily why but she had a serious attraction to the exotic, Kardashian, Selma Hayek types.

“So, I’ve never seen you in here before.” The woman says after ordering the same drink Sheila had.

“First time for everything.” She responded making the woman smile. She found out that her name was Clementine, an amateur wrestler originally from Puerto Rico by way of the Bronx, NY. She told Sheila of her relocating to gain some peace and clarity in life. She had just started a new job at a consulting firm and was out celebrating. She was single with no children. They talked for what seemed like weeks; telling each other college stories, personal goals and achievements, and even sexual passions and desires. Three and a half hours, six more drinks, a couple of appetizers, and many laughs later, Sheila realized that Francesco was probably getting worried. But when she saw that there were no missed calls or messages on her phone she concluded that he was either still working or at home asleep on the couch with late-night take out on the end table.

“Sheila, I have to be honest with you.” Clementine said as she used her straw to swirl around the last bit of crushed ice at the bottom of her glass. “I want to go home with you.” She devilishly smiled as she put one hand on Sheila’s upper thigh. Without words Sheila smiled- not just because she felt the same way since Clementine sat down, but because she knew they had connected much deeper than just some random one night stand. There was a sincere mutual respect and attraction for one another. And since Sheila couldn’t help blurting out what happened in her office weeks ago after Clementine confessed to being bi-sexual, she knew the sexual intensity between them couldn’t be denied.

“Would you please excuse me?” Sheila smiled. “I have to run to the little girls room. I’ll be right back.” She said as she stood up from her seat. Before she walked away she leaned into Clementine’s ear and whispered, “Please don’t leave before I get the chance to make you cum.”

Sheila’s red hot heels were clicking feverishly on the way to the restroom. She bursted into a stall like a mad woman and pulled her phone from her clutch to text Francesco. ‘I found the one’. Was the conclusion of the illusive text. Before she left the stall her phone buzzed a response, ‘Bring her to me. J’

Sheila bit down on her lip with sensuous joy before checking herself in the mirror, reapplying lip gloss and a small squirt of perfume on her neck before returning to Clementine at the small booth they requested. The moment she received her husband’s okay, Sheila felt immediately empowered and in control. She simply looked her new lover deeply in the eyes as she took her hand to help her from her seat. When Clementine stood Sheila softly kissed her hand and said, “Follow me.”

After following Sheila in her car for a short while the ladies arrived at the Gomez’ home. Sheila unlocked the door to her fairly expensive home after noticing Francesco’s car was still not in the driveway. He was a photographer for both a major magazine and a website, so it wasn’t uncommon on some weekends were the shoots would take upwards of 6-8 hours at a time, most of those nights lasting into the wee hours of the morning. Because Francesco was aware of her burning need, she didn’t feel like she was about to cheat or be embarrassed because he wasn’t there yet. Sheila knew that she was going to try her best at fucking the shit out of the beautiful woman in her living room so that she would come crawling back for more.

“You have a beautiful home,” Clementine says picking up a photo from a lamp table, “and a fine as husband too.”

Sheila smiled, “Thank you. Listen, I’m gonna take a shower in the master bathroom if you’d like to join me.” She said handing her a half glass of wine. Of course Clementine accepted. In the shower Sheila marveled at how exceptional Clementine’s body was underneath her clothes. She had no ounce of fat in her midsection, but her tits and ass would make any conscious man want to marry her on the first date! Sheila rubbed her fleshy belly with a little shame. Clementine noticed and felt what Sheila was going through, so she turned the shower on after fixing the temperature and walked over to Sheila. She gently caressed Sheila’s face and said “You’re beautiful” before leaning down and kissing Sheila all over her round stomach. When she finished she led Sheila into the shower and grabbed her by both sides of her face before kissing her deeply. In the shower their soft lips and tongue danced feverishly. Sheila grabbed some soap and began to lather her new lover meticulously and Clementine did the same. Clementine turned Sheila around too plant kisses on her upper back as she spread Sheila’s legs and rubbed on her mound from behind. Sheila let her head fall back in ecstasy against her lover. Clementine groped Sheila’s left breast with one hand and kept rubbing on top of her juicy mound with just enough pressure to make her want more.

The bathroom door opened slowly as Francesco walked in. He had heard the women panting and moaning in pleasure the moment he entered in the front door. His dick was hard instantly even though he was tired in his body. His curiosity couldn’t keep him from slowly climbing the stairs and entering into the bathroom with much caution as not to disturb the reverie. Clementine noticed him first. She smiled her devilish smile and Francesco felt his dick jump through his pants towards her. He was not only mesmerized by how beautiful she was, but how beautiful the contrasting skin complexions were, the way the water moved on their bodies, the look of pure pleasure on his wife’s face as this woman seemingly fingered fucked her from behind. He took off his jewelry, tie, then his shirt, unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants and let them fall to the floor. Sheila heard the clinking of his watch hitting the sink when she opened her eyes and smiled at her soul mate. She could hardly wait to taste his dick and taste is exactly what she did when he entered the shower to join the ladies. She pushed him against the shower wall and tongue kissed him as she soaped his dick while Clementine fingered her own pussy as she watched.  When Sheila went down Clementine lifted his chin towards her and whispered, “ HI, I’m Clementine” , before she joined his wife in sucking his shaft and tonguing his throbbing balls. He was so physically and emotionally excited that he hardly recognized the strangely new high pitched moaning that he was making. He didn’t care. It turned him on that they could do that to him and it turned them on that they could too.

He motioned for the ladies to stop and turned off the shower water. They all semi-dried off still nearly glued to each other then met on the bed where he sat on the edge as the ladies lay down. Sheila pulled back the hood over Clementine’s hairless mound and slurped on her clit. She sent her lover into an instant frenzy as if she was doing something very right. Licking and gently sucking on her clit she slid a finger inside of her pussy hole and made Clementine shiver and scream in an orgasm. Francesco had been rubbing himself all the while with one hand and fingering his wife from behind with the other. He could barely take it anymore; straddling his wife’s ass he put his juicy eight inch cock right at her searing pussy hole when she came all over self. He smiled and penetrated her slowly and deeply making the orgasm stretch beyond her ability to keep licking her lover.

They enjoyed each other in every way imaginable. When Clementine began to straddle Francesco the first time she made sure that her lover was ok with it. Sheila was warm and taken aback by the respect that Clementine still had for her, even after all of the intimacy they already shared. Sheila nodded at Clementine as she slid down his shaft and he let out a whimper even Sheila never heard before. She wasn’t at all jealous. She was intrigued. She sat in a chair across from the bed and played with her pussy as she watched the Latina woman ride her husband like a pure bred stallion. Sheila could tell that Clementine had full control over her inner muscles as she saw Clementine’s ass cheeks stiffen and tighten at all the right moments.  Francesco gripped tightly to her massive and smooth derriere and bounced it up and down his dick with sweet rage. Before climaxing he threw her off of him, flipped her over and buried his face between those cheeks. Clementine began cursing and moaning in Spanish and it made him even more wildly ravenous. He called his wife to the bed to put her pussy In the woman’s face as he entered the new lover from behind. Each of them screaming and pulling and digging into each other’s pores like never before.

They had a few more encounters with Clementine before she moved again. After she left they no longer heard from her. And rightfully so. Their escapade with the island dream was merely a fulfilled fantasy. The real magic was between them, husband and wife, best friends forever. They had indeed found what they thought they had lost. And anytime life would try to interrupt their bliss with grief, one would go to the grocery store and buy a Clementine orange. They would sit together and smile as they shared the orange and let the tension fade away, just as they did the night sweet Clementine Sanchez offered her forbidden fruit for the couple to juice and enjoy.

About AfroErotik:

AfroerotiK is the very best in Black erotica.  Every image is artistic, showcasing emotion, connection, intimacy, and love.  Every story is well-written with complex character development, storylines, and messages of empowerment.  The podcasts inform and arouse, the e-cards are gorgeous and FREE.  The boutique has unique items to help individuals become better lovers.  AfroerotiK also has exclusive music that will set the stage for a steamy night of romance.  Sensu-Soul is a video like none other: celebrating Black intellect and showcasing Black tenderness and seduction.  The only place to get a personalized, customized erotic story told with an authentic, African-American perspective is AfroerotiK.  People of every gender, age, sexual orientation, complexion, and size are represented in a way that will make them feel uplifted and empowered.  Color lines are blurred on AfroerotiK as it shuns the taboo stigma of interracial relationships and allows them to be viewed holistically.  Most importantly, AfroerotiK helps remove the shame from our collective sexual expression.  Simply stated, AfroerotiK provides the opportunity for all people of African descent to see themselves in a beautiful, erotic light.  There is no other website like it.

Sex Positions 101: The Steer

This intermediate sex position allows for deep penetration and great access for applying a small vibrator. We can often achieve female ejaculation in this alignment.

While lying on the bed, the female twists to the side. One leg should be placed on the male’s shoulder while the other lays flat. The male then holds onto the female’s waist to bring her closer for penetration.



Your best lover is not your best friend.

By Freddy (aka Ian Denchasy)

Over the last two years sex, in my opinion, had taken an unacceptable downturn. Frequency was not so much an issue as quality. Or, as I continued to futilely express to Alicia, sex felt to me (and I stress this was my issue) as though it had become a by-the-numbers exercise, done more out of routine and duty than for actual pleasure. At almost fifty, and together with my wife the better part of twenty five years, I realize my days of expecting impromptu trysts in moving cars or public spaces  may be on the wishful side; however, trudging into the bedroom 2-3 times per week at the allotted time and in the assumed positions was becoming downright dull. Better to sit and play solitaire on my tablet, quite frankly, given the amount of effort required to roust myself into an appropriately erect state with a partner wearing my unflattering underwear and a matching frumpy t-shirt. Yes, ladies, contrary to popular belief, we men do prefer a bit of attention to details like lingerie, foreplay, and proper mental enthusiasm.

What had happened, as is the case in many relationships of length, is that we had ceased to become passionate lovers and instead become best friends. For my part, I was no longer the man of our house, but rather the sensitive and caring gal pal she no longer needed to find outside our marriage. It’s no wonder Alicia rarely contacted any of her circles of friends; she had me. In a twisted irony, where once she’d dial up a longtime confidant, it was I who now listened to her gossip, details of her day, hopes and aspirations, neighborhood drama, and everything in between. As such, passion and eroticism was bumped down the priority list as evenings “cuddling” in front of her favorite television shows and sleeping in together on weekends (which I abhor), became the de-facto norms. Even her hobbies were discarded in favor of adopting activities more in tune with my own interests. The old saying posits that “familiarity breeds contempt,” and while this may or may not be true, I can certainly speak from experience that being best buddies with one’s spouse doesn’t do much for any sort of “breeding.”

As difficult as it is to accept, even in today’s strange convergence of male/female relationship roles, passionate sex still requires a bit of distance and mystery. Indeed, I had to, slowly and over time, re-establish a separation between Alicia and myself that was almost like weaning oneself off substance addiction. I’m not ashamed to admit I liked the role of being my wife’s number one, even if it did risk reducing our sexual motivation. Besides, most schools of thought on sexual dysfunction teach us that deeper communication and friendship leads to more passionate and meaningful intimacy and pleasurable sex. By that reasoning, shouldn’t my wife and I have been enjoying the most incredible sex imaginable?

Alas, it is this confusion over intimacy – as opposed to eroticism – that seems to be at the root of much of our sexual dysfunction. We believe that our ability to have long, intimate encounters with our partners and deepening our spiritual connections with them translates into sexual behavior that transcends the physical (and primal) lust most of us feel in the initial stages of getting together. Ironically, we then seek to recapture that lust once it’s lost by seeking even more connection and intimacy, when doing the opposite and just getting back to fucking is the best course of action. Here are some practical steps we took to inject our sex life with a serious shot of adrenaline.

Get a real best friend.

If you’ve found yourself out of touch with your former social circles, pick up the phone, fire off e-mails, or start the process of finding yourself a few friends. Not just on Facebook or Twitter, either; I’m talking real life people you can talk to on a regular basis and with whom you can have actual face to face interactions. Aside from taking a few hours away from your partner, everyone can benefit from diverse opinions, personalities, and experiences.

Find hobbies and/or activities to do separately.

Being in a long term relationship, there are dozens, if not hundreds, of things Alicia and I do together on a regular basis. That said, it’s not important that we enjoy or partake in every activity one of us happens to pursue. I like gardening, cooking, tennis, walking, and attending electronic music events, for example, while Alicia loves fashion, watching television, reading, and listening to pop music. Though there may be overlap in any or all of these diversions occasionally, we support each other fully to engage in them separately and encourage exploration into new interests regardless of whether or not they appeal to both of us.

Make a commitment to being sexually separate.

Embrace the good fortune that we are individual and sexual human creatures with individual wants, desires, and attributes that define our sensual selves. To enjoy sexual pleasure is one of the truly unique and undefinable traits with which we are blessed, so don’t go screwing it up with too much attention to what your partner wants as opposed to what makes you feel good. Pleasing your beloved is all well and good; pleasing yourself and your partner is even better. Try to focus on who you are and what you like, sexually, and then put that knowledge to work in your sexual interactions.

Wear your sexuality.

Literally. Stop wearing those old sweats and ratty nightclothes and spruce yourself up! As I mentioned in the beginning of this piece, my libido takes a nosedive every time I even think of Alicia wearing my Costco briefs and extra large tees. My solution? I tossed the briefs in the trash and no longer don underwear. Yep, commando, baby. At the same time, we dedicated a small fund for her undergarments, finding a nice balance of sexy and comfortable, shorter tees substituting for my gym shirts. For my part, I now try to wear slacks or jeans (with Hawaiian or button down shirts) when going out, wearing sweats only to exercise or perform house chores. The point is, we get too comfortable and being sexy should be about discomfort, whether referring to attitude, expectation, or dress code.

Stop making love and start making lust.

Finally, enough with the deep spiritual stuff, already! It’s nice to spend time gazing into each other’s eyes for hours, having deep conversations about how much we love each other, breathing in unison, and “making love” for hours on end, but it’s also nice to live in the moment, tear off your clothes, and engage in a an intense orgasm for two minutes. Clear your mind, look at your partner as an object – yes, I said object – of desire and let loose. It may be awkward (it was for us, wonderfully so) and things may not go as expected (again, another plus), but isn’t it time you put aside all the expert advice and looked at your husband, wife, boyfriend, or girlfriend as a lover and as such sought out the explosive sexual pleasures lurking beneath the bills, dirty dishes, and child rearing responsibilities? Tear off your clothes, tear up that cozy friendship, and find the spark that fizzled amid all those late night conversations.

To be continued… 🙂

Product Review: Vibratex Mini Magic USB Massager

Synopsis: The Vibratex Mini Magic Wand is a compact, USB version of their best selling Mystic Wand.

Eddy’s Review: Technology is all around us and we have seen some pretty out-of-this-world products, but the introduction of the Mini Magic Rechargeable by Vibratex is not only a great example of this fact, but it’s a pretty cute vibe, too!The Mini Magic Rechargeable is 6” long in total with a 1.5” bulbous head and 1.25” circumference, making it small enough to fit in even the tiniest purse. It is made of silicone, and offers 6 various vibrations. It comes with a USB connector for charging directly from your computer and also a few extra ports for most common phone chargers. Own an iPhone? You can use its charger.

When I tried the Mini Magic Rechargeable we used it together as it is a pretty petite vibrator, so it fits in between almost any position you can get yourselves into! Like its predecessor- the Mystic Wand, it allows the user to choose from 6 different modes of vibrations. The first three modes offer the basic vibration but in different strengths, then the last three modes offers different pulsations. So, one could start with a low vibration and then rev up to a much stronger mode with pulsation to really create fireworks for solo or partner play.

Since the Mini Magic is so petite, it is great to travel with since it needs no batteries and it fits into the tiniest carry-on or purse.

Freddy Say: I find it quite surprising that USB power has not found its way into more sex products. In many instances, we find ourselves watching porn or reading erotic from our laptops in bed (together) and having a device like the Mini Magic powered up and ready via the already present USB port seems a no-brainer. That said, the Mini Magic packs quite a punch into its tiny form factor, quietly gearing up to its high speed clitoral onslaught by the fourth of six speeds. The size works well for fitting between virtually any position to add clit sensation and the Mini Magic fits easily in a pocket, small purse, or any discreet space you might want to store it in. Waterproof design adds the dynamic of hot tub and/or shower play, making this device a must-have.

To purchase a Vibratex Mini Magic vibrator, click here or on the links above to visit our online store or here to visit the Vibratex website. Your purchases keep this site running and free to all visitors!

Sex Positions 101: The Standing Slow Dance

This standing sex position utilizes a chair for support and added comfort. Female should wrap her hands around his shoulders to help herself up. Most of the weight is held with male’s one hand while other hand caresses her body. Using a chair for her feet and lighten the load.



Marriage and Sex: What’s love got to do with it?


As we approach year 25 of our time together, we often like to reflect upon what has kept us afloat and, just as importantly, sexually passionate for each other over these many years. We continue to engage in sexual activity regularly (a modest 2-3 times per week of full blown intercourse) despite the stresses of maintaining our financial buoyancy, raising a teenager, and staying physically healthy as our bodies transition to middle age. This may seem a far cry from the 2-3 times per day rate we enjoyed in our first few months together, but our frequency suits us at this current level and the quality of our encounters continues to flourish. Every bit as important as our sexual statistics is the attention we continue to pay to seeing one another as sexually desirable, sexually separate beings, whether across a crowded room, in grubby sleepwear, or performing the most mundane of tasks.

Contrasting our situation is the plague of divorces that has descended upon our quiet Mar Vista community of late, with ten couples we consider friends (to various degrees) either separating or calling it quits entirely over the last 2-3 years, with sexual dissatisfaction being present in virtually every instance. Add in the dozens of couples with whom we come into contact through our business on an ongoing basis (hundreds over the past 10 years) and it would seem – sexually, at least – that long term lust is nothing more than a fantasy enjoyed by a tiny minority. In our case, is it simply blind luck that brought us together as a sexually compatible couple and strong partnership outside the bedroom? Is it really possible to stay sexually connected as years grow into decades?

Therapist Esther Perel, in her well-respected book, Mating In Captivity, finds an interesting paradox that puts forth the premise that sex and domesticity are actually at odds – even war – against each other. In layman’s terms, as we grow closer as couples and invest more of our trust and intimacy toward the end of increased stability, the conditions for passion are reduced, if not eliminated. Sex, Perel believes, needs distance – physically and emotionally – to truly thrive, therefore our reliance on our partners to provide reliability and nurturing short circuits the detachment needed to be sexually independent. This is part of a wider problem of couples depending on their respective spouses or (significant others) to fill in the voids left by splintering  and smaller families, insular communities, and less reliance on outer social networks to provide recreation, etc. In other words, we’ve come to know our husbands and wives too well and this has created conditions antithetical to fostering eroticism. Partners stray not because they need sex, necessarily, but because they need sex with a person whom they don’t know so well as to allow this intimate knowledge inhibit them and, by extension, their pleasure.

As we described in our essay on balance in relationships, modern couplings bear little resemblance to those of only half a century ago, when the divorce rate stood under ten percent and the sexual liberation of the birth control pill had yet to make itself known. Marrying for love, though not unheard of, was not the primary reason for forming lasting unions; however, with female empowerment and employment equality gaining momentum in the late 1950’s and 60’s, divorce laws being relaxed, males performing more traditionally female duties, and Roe vs. Wade eliminating mandatory childbearing, couplings were suddenly in search of compelling reasons for forming, let alone lasting for a lifetime. Likewise sex, now unburdened by parenting ramifications, could be pursued for pleasure alone. Who knew we’d be unprepared for exploring the possibilities – never mind dealing with – the results of sudden sexual freedom?

Which brings us to today and the seeming inability of the majority of couples to enjoy sexual satisfaction alongside long term commitment. With respect to the aforementioned Esther Perel, we continue to lack the ability to separate sexual passion from relationship stability. Add to this combination the concept of “love,” which is the most volatile and misunderstood of all emotions and it’s no wonder so many couples languish in sex-less purgatory as time progresses. We need to somehow discover our sexual selves, independent and without judgement, and somehow relay what we want to our partner, then do the same for him or her. As sex is the most vulnerable – naked – state in which one can find him or herself, the task of detaching erotic pleasure from reassuring companionship is a tall order.

In 1988, we obviously knew none of this when we first met; there was no internet, the sexual revolution of the 60’s and 70’s had been beaten back by Ronald Reagan conservatism and the rise of the religious right, and overall relationship mores were still dictated by leftover traditional frameworks laid out by “Leave It to Beaver, The Brady Bunch,” and similar shows of their day. Indeed, “Happy Days,” which was a generation removed from our Civil Rights and Women’s Liberation era upheaval still provided the comforting portrayal of the stable Howard and Marion Cunningham, who never failed to show respect for what they each brought to the unit, collectively. These were the examples we saw in reruns and the ideal, with regard to marriage and family, to which both of us aspired.

Now, with the benefit of hindsight and experience, we are witnessing firsthand the almost complete obliteration of the once sturdy principles of marriage and family. For better or worse, love is the bedrock upon which we build our relationship foundations, somehow counting on its mysterious powers to not only fuel passionate sex, but carry us through difficult stretches and overcome our myriad incompatibilities. We use love to justify our chosen parenting methods, love to decide which jobs we want, and love to stay connected to family members who drive us crazy. It’s maddening how many couples we see who attach hot sex to intense love, then paradoxically insist love and sex can be separated as libidos decrease and sexual desires wane.

In our relationship, especially in its early stages, we were fortunate to find both sexual and practical common ground – and love – to pull us forward toward a long lasting union. And this is fine; getting together for love and sexual pleasure is a great platform for exploring further possibilities. We used love and attraction to springboard into a wonderful relationship that continues to this very posting and still “love” each other with a giddy excitement reminiscent of our early years. But, and this is a point we can’t stress strongly enough, we did not plunge head first into marriage or commitment beyond the present circumstances. We let our level heads prevail and resisted the temptation to rush into making promises we may not have been able to keep. In fact, it was a full two years after we moved in together that we decided to make things official in the eyes of the our families, the state, and God himself.

In closing, it is our hope that the current crisis in long term relationships, especially when it comes to sex, is simply a result of the growing pains of modern evolution and we will eventually find ways to both rediscover lost passions and make better choices in our partners, initially. Perhaps answers lay in adjusting our “all or nothing” approach to long term commitment and redefining marriage to better reflect today’s realities (short term contracted arrangements with renewal options?). The real lessons here are to approach love, intimacy, and sex cautiously, and with skepticism, attempting to keep sex with your partner at suitable length from cuddling on the couch or taking moonlight walks. Enjoying a flaming romp in the sack means nothing if a few months of familiarity extinguishes it; likewise, a budding male/female friendship is not a prerequisite to a lifetime of unfulfilled desire. Sex, love, and partnerships are wonderful byproducts of being human, however, to believe these gifts will stay healthy relevant as time progresses indicates you are willing to address each on its own terms.

Product Review: The Tantra Chair

Synopsis: A curved leather furniture piece designed for sexual intimacy. Available in different colors.

Our Review: A while back, a visitor to our message boards posted a sex toy wish list, with the Tantra Chair being at the top. Of course, her description and picture piqued our interest, but such an extravagance (a few hundred dollars) was beyond our means at that point in time and we felt uncomfortable asking someone to send us something so luxurious for free (or even a steep discount). As such, we filed it away in our minds for later consideration and left it at that.

Fast forward and were surprised to find an e-mail from the actual creator of the Tantra Chair asking us if we’d like to HAVE one!!! It seems our man Jordan Dawes, aka the Bonk Master, had talked us up pretty good at a trade show and gotten the gentleman (his name is Al) to consider placing one of his lovely pieces in our newly opened store here in Los Angeles. It was almost too good to be true and we cautiously took him at his word that one would be sent. All that was left to do was pick the color, which we did in all of 60 seconds (tan), and the chair was delivered about a week later.

First, however, some specifics on the Tantra Chair. As you can see from the picture above, the Tantra Chair is a long, double-curved furniture piece, made from of a wooden understructure, measuring approximately 70 inches in length, 15 inches in width, and 24 inches at its tallest point. A leather pad runs its length and is approximately 4 inches thick and the chair weighs approximately 65 pounds. When removing it from its rather large shipping box, the Tantra Chair feels very solid and well constructed and requires no assembly of any kind. We placed the chair in our hard wood floor living room, which would turn out to be a slight mistake (more on that in a moment), and it now resides on the carpet in its permanent location in our bedroom.

Of course, time constraints being what they are in the lives of a busy family, days went by without us so much as even sitting in our new “friend,” and we had to call upon a neighbor to give us a break to do our, um, “work.” Yeah, that’s it – work. Our child in the safe environment of his friends, television, and junk food, we made our way to the living room to give it the Tantra Chair a try.

Unfortunately, we happened to pick a very HOT day for this adventure and the fact our home has no air conditioning left our space broiling and stuffy. This makes sex in any form a tad uncomfortable for both of us, let alone on a baking leather chair; but, ever the determined couple, we pressed on and encountered a second issue, which was that we were in the process of replacing our old curtains, leaving our living room window wide open for all the world to see inside. This had us scrambling for ways to cover the windows to prevent a live sex show for people walking by the front of our home. As crazy as this sounds, we had NOTHING to cover the windows with, leaving us with no other solution except to maneuver the Tantra Chair into the bedroom, which offered complete privacy. Lugging almost 70 pounds down the hallway wasn’t too appealing at that point, so we entertained the idea of giving up and waiting until the new curtains were installed.

No sooner had that thought crossed our minds than Alicia had every article of clothing off and had that look of determination that demonstrated she was willing to give the folks a show if that’s what was necessary to get this review done. 60 seconds later and there we were, naked for all the world to see if they’d managed to get too close. So, if there are any lessons to be learned here, it’s that broiling temperatures, lack of window coverings, and the chance of sex on a cool piece of furniture are simply not enough to deter a horny wife and husband.

As for using the Tantra Chair, let’s just say it’s everything we thought it would be – and then some. One word of caution, though; using it on the aforementioned hardwood flooring proved to be difficult, due to the slippery nature of the surface. This caused the Tantra Chair to slide and move as we used it and we have since installed small, non-stick rubber “feet” at the four corners of its base to prevent it from sliding. On that day, though, we were forced to move it to our library room, which is carpeted, and that solved the problem. Once in place, we tried several positions, our favorite being simple rear entry off the taller end, and we have since tried just about every position shown on the Tantra Chair website with great success and, more importantly, lots of fun. One thing we’d love to see is some sort of manual included with more ideas and positions, which would be especially helpful to inexperienced couples who might need a little help to fully maximize this product’s possibilities. This is a minor quibble, of course, as one can simply use an internet connected phone or tablet to gain ideas.

The original Tantra Chair, released in 2004.

In summation, this is a great product and the manufacturer warranties the Tantra Chair for 5 full years against any defects. It’s made completely of thick, solid hard woods that should last a lifetime and you can purchase the leather is very easy to clean (that said, we usually add a moisture proof Fascinator blanket as added protection). We look forward to many more years of enjoyment from our newest furniture piece – sexually and otherwise – and can’t recommend it highly enough.

For more information on this fine product, visit the Tantra Chair website by clicking hereor on the links above.