Guest Post – Long Distance Longing, Part 2

My dear friend Ani LeClerc read my post on long distance love yesterday, and pointed out a missing element.  Here it is, straight from her (ever so delectable) mouth:
Anitya Leclerc -

Ani Leclerc’s devastating hotness. See more at!

So recently the wonderful Seven Dates a Week wrote a post about long-distance relationships that was about as great as you might expect. Except, she left out one glaring issue: the sex. Just how DO you develop and maintain a sexual connection over a distance? It’s definitely a challenge, but as a professional cam girl who’s had lots of long-distance fun, for work and for play, I am here to help!

1. Get supplies.

Staying in touch in the modern age—especially staying in sexual touch—requires a certain level of telecommunications tech to be maximally enjoyable. You will need a reasonably fast computer (you want one of those anyway, though, right?), and broadband internet (but none of us are on dialup anymore). You’ll want an HD webcam and video recording software—even if you’re shy, and we’ll get to that later. You’ll also probably want some audio recording software. Anything that does voice memos, like maybe your smartphone, will do. Sign up for a cloud storage provider like Dropbox so you can easily share large files. You will thank me later for suggesting you get a wireless headset for hands-free phone calls. Download and install Skype. I don’t like to recommend specific products or software, but trust me on this one: no other program is as readily available and also as reliable and easy to use for video calling.

2. Turn on your imagination.

OK, so you can’t have physical sex with your long-distance partner, at least, not as often as you’d like. But you can certainly tell each other all about all the things you would do, or actually will do, as soon as you see each other next. (As per SDAW’s post, you’ve got a plan, right?) If you’re shy, you can start in email or chat and maybe work up to a phone or Skype session. As you get more comfortable with each other, you should absolutely bust out the sex fantasies you’ve been too shy or lazy to share with local partners in the past. Talking about something especially intense, like a super hot and dirty fantasy, can make even ordinary instant messages the hottest thing that have happened to you in years. When you finally get to see each other in person, you’ll have worked yourselves up to the kind of properly mind-blowing fuckstravaganza that long-distance lovers deserve.

3. Discover your inner pornographer.

Filthy emails and sexts, dirty pictures, or recorded audio and video serve several purposes in a long-distance relationship. Having trouble sharing your fantasies? It can be easier to put it in an email. Does the thought of phone sex intimidate you? Why not practice by recording yourself having an orgasm while telling your partner what you’re thinking about? Your partner’s positive reaction to your naughty MP3 might give you the confidence boost you need to move on to something more interactive. Even if you’re already a full-blown exhibitionist like me, making porn for your long-distance partner is a great solution for those of us who are thwarted not only by distance, but also by time zones. (I live 9 hours ahead of my current love interest, and I lived 13 hours ahead of a previous boyfriend!) It can be hard to find the time to play together, but you can still inspire and tease one another by trading porn—written, audio, and visual.

4. Learn each other’s bodies.

It can be hard to have great sex in long distance relationships, because we just don’t have the same amount of time to touch, explore, and experiment with our partner’s bodies the way we would if we were dating someone local. If you haven’t met in person before (just hit it off online), the first time you see each other can be incredibly scary because of this, especially if you want to jump straight to all the sex you haven’t been having. However, if you followed my advice and got Skype + a high-quality webcam, you can do a lot to get comfortable with your partner’s body from afar. Watching your partners (and showing off for them in turn) can teach you what gets each other off, as well as being incredibly hot to watch. When you do meet up, you’ll be so used to seeing each other naked on screen that it will almost be like you were together the whole time.

5. Fulfill your need for physical touch.

Whether your relationship is monogamous or polyamorous, expect that there are at least some needs you’re going to have to meet locally.  It’s possible to do a lot of getting off together, even at tremendous distances, and be quite sexually satisfied. However, recreating cuddles is damn near impossible. Don’t let the rest of your social network fall to pieces while you care for a long-distance relationship, because you’re going to want to hug your friends a lot. Go for it, because friends are awesome and so are snuggles.

All right, you modern sexual peregrines: go get it! Be safe, have fun, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!

Anitya Leclerc - see more at!

Don’t do anything she wouldn’t do …

Isn’t she wonderful?  See more of her (a lot more) at her website or follow her on Twitter!  

Long Distance Longing

long distance longing

Kansas City and I are separated by 733 miles, if you look at it one way.  We’re separated by 22 days and 7 hours, if you look at it another.  Any way you look, we’re apart at the very same time we want to spend every moment together – and we’ve put some strategies in place.  It turns out that although you can’t keep it from sucking, you can substantially improve your long distance love experience.

Want more?  (Of course you do.) See here for the guest post my dear friend Ani wrote.  She felt the lack of discussion on sex in LDRs couldn’t go unanswered, and of course she was quite right.

Meet Kansas City

jcnfountainAfter Kansas City left Tuesday morning, I drove in circles on the highway, killing time.  My bedroom was still full of him, my shower, my kitchen, my brain.  KC and I met for the first time Sunday night – but we already knew each other.  As we lay entwined while Monday became Tuesday, counting hours of sleep vs. hours together, he whispered to me: “I loved you the whole time.”  I nodded, brushed his lips with my thumb.  His hand followed the path on me from shoulder to hip that had become familiar in just a day and a half, and pulled me closer. Warning: the following is going to sound a little like lines from When Harry Met Sally.  I can’t help it; it’s the truth.  I haven’t mentioned Kansas City before, because dating him wasn’t within the realm of reality.  At least, that’s what I thought.

The first time I “met” Kansas City, nine years ago in an online writing community, we hit it off right away and often shared our lives over IM and email.  Eventually we lost touch, each wrapped up in our own long-term relationships and educations and careers.  The second time we “met”, three years ago (due to utterly unbelievable online coincidence), we were thrilled to rediscover our friendship.  And we fell in love.  Hard.  Over email, text and phone, we re-learned each other and couldn’t get enough.  There were only a few obstacles: the distance.  His monogamous girlfriend.  We shelved things after a few months. So when we got back in touch for the third time, even though we were both single, we kept the romance quiet and became best friends instead.  We shared everything: work, school, relationships, family, and everything else.  In our more honest moments, we talked about love – but we were also honest about any kind of “us” being practically impossible.

And then we met for the fourth time, five days ago.  Finally face to face. We planned it about two weeks in advance.  I let myself believe it about two days in advance – and a constant low thrum of excitement and nervousness vibrated from my chest to my lower belly.  KC rang my doorbell and started down the five steps to my apartment, and I had to step hard on my heart to keep it from beating out of my chest.  The sun was shining behind him so I couldn’t see his face, but I didn’t even need to.  The space between us was electric.  “Hi,” I said, trying to keep breathing, looking into his eyes and at his smile splashed across his face like he’d just seen his first rainbow.  “Hi,” he said.  And I started a sentence about nothing that I never finished. With the words, “Come here, you,” KC pinned me to the wall with his mouth to mine.  If there’d been a film crew, they’d have been rotating around us to give you that world-spinning feeling.  KC’s hands were on my hips, on my shoulders, in my hair.  I realized my own hands were flat on the wall behind me, and solved that problem by pulling his hips against mine and holding him there tightly.

We rushed and we meandered, silently arguing with ourselves and each other over whether to take our time or just finally end all the waiting. As KC hesitated for a moment, arms around my shoulders, hips pressed tight between my thighs, looking down into my eyes, I knew I loved him.  As always.  I closed my eyes as the feeling spread through me, hot and golden and so, so good.  Kansas City said my name, and I opened my eyes, drank in his face.  “I love you,” he said.  And he slid home inside me for the first time. We spent the weekend half in bed, laughing and kissing and fucking, talking about absolutely anything that came to mind.  We wandered hand in hand through the city, discussing my history here and just being together.  We sat on a fallen tree and watched the river, nestled into one another, wishing it wouldn’t end in only a day.  We stayed awake most of Monday night, holding each other and telling truth.

When he drove away from me the next morning, he took my whole heart with him. I spent one day in a mess of emotion, thrilled and ever so in love, frustrated at being separated, and confused by all of it.  But my usual reaction to intense, overwhelming emotion is a burst of logic and pragmatism.  And by Wednesday night, KC and I had planned a schedule of visits through December.  We looked at maps together and picked a halfway point, six and a half hours from each of us.  And we’ve already begun talking about how to combine our lives in the fairly near future – who moves where and when.

It’s terrifying, to start planning life changes like where to live and where to go to school based on the very beginning of a relationship.  Part of me says: we were together for 36 hours, of course it was perfect.  But I have both logical and non-logical reasons I know this is the right thing to do.  Every time I think how foolish this is, I immediately feel another tumbler click into place on my internal certainty meter – the instincts I rely on to make all real, important decisions.  This part of me has no ability to make sense.  It just knows.  I have rational reasons as well.  As a woman in my 30s, I’m too old to wait for things to “just work out”.  I’ve begun making things happen in my personal life lately, including a new direction for my career.  It feels good to be more involved in my life’s trajectory, and chasing what I want?  It’s the best feeling in the world.

I know what I want when it comes to relationships.  I want a partner in crime.  Someone who understands me without needing explanation, someone I am always having fun with, someone with whom communication is effortless.  Someone who is game for adventures and challenges and even struggles, because we can do anything together.  When I meet someone like that, I fall in love.  Quickly, deeply, and authentically.  I’ve met four people in the past fifteen years who made me feel like that.  Recently I met a fifth.  He’s worth chasing.  This feeling is worth chasing.  In fact, I won’t be happy unless I do it.  My happiness is worth chasing.  So here I go.

Fuck and Break Up


Reflecting on my most recent breakup (with the Architect), I found myself wishing I’d taken him to bed one last time.  While thinking about it, I realized something that surprised me: sex had been part of at least 75% of my breakups in the last five years!  So, naturally, I wrote a post about it, over at Singles Warehouse.

Go on, say goodbye nicely now … with your tongue, teeth, fingers, cock, and cunt.  You’ll thank me later.

The Teacher, Red Delicious, and Bi-Girl Syndrome

reddelheartThere’ve been all KINDS of exciting developments between now and the eight first dates I managed to complete in ten days’ time recently.  And this is the one I’m happiest about:  The Teacher slept with someone other than me!

He arrived at my apartment on Monday afternoon with a great big grin on his face.  This is one of the most endearing things about the Teacher, the look on his face when he sees me.  “You look nice,” he said, and we went straight to bed.  “So,” he said, “you want to hear about my date?” Of course I did.  His description of the afternoon they spent together was quite detailed, and I was getting bored.  “Get to the sex part!” I teased him, knowing that sex on the first date was highly unlikely for the Teacher.  And he blushed a lovely scarlet.  “That was later,” he said.  “Baby!” I yelled, “WOO HOO!”  I covered him in kisses.  “You know,” he said to me, “condoms aren’t THAT bad.”

I was amused.  The Teacher and I haven’t used condoms, see, since our first night together.  I let him make that decision with the full knowledge that I had other partners.  Since he doesn’t sleep with anyone other than me, and birth control is already double-covered, he felt it was fine to go without … so he’s had sex while wearing one exactly twice.  “Also,” he said to me, smiling at my joy on his behalf, “I got to be the experienced one.”  That made me throw back my head and laugh.  “I love you,” I told him, and for the first time, he didn’t echo me immediately.  I smiled inwardly.  I have little doubt about the Teacher’s feelings for me, and I respect his choice to save that for his new girl.  They are great for each other, from what I can tell, and I hope it works out.

I feel great about this, even though it will probably lead to the Teacher dating his new girl exclusively and the end of our (sexual and romantic, at least) relationship.  I’ve been on the receiving end of this sort of breakup before.  Single fellas meet me and think I’m wonderful, cannot believe I am also single, and are sure that my having other partners won’t bother them.  Most are pretty excited about the freedom to pursue other girls while also enjoying a relationship.  Ultimately, though, most of these single guys meet someone who wants the same thing they want – an impenetrable twosome.  It’s not that I don’t see the appeal.  It’s just that I’m quite picky about who I twosome with.  So the fellas move on with their new exclusive girls, and we always part on good terms.  Occasionally I have mixed feelings about it, but not this time.  I can see the Teacher marrying this gal, and I hope I dance at their wedding.  Aww.

Enough about his dating life, though.  This blog is ALL about me.  And I’m two things: uncertain and excited.  I’m positive you know what I’m talking about: that kind of interest in someone new that’s uncomfortable and thrilling and uncomfortably thrilling.  Red Delicious and I met for dinner last week, and almost immediately fell into the kind of conversation two people have when they have eighteen things to say.  She was warm, funny, honest, and instantly accessible in the way that people only can be who are comfortable with themselves one hundred percent.  Authenticity is the one thing I’m non-negotiable on.  Red Delicious has it in spades.  She also has gorgeous long auburn hair, and piercing green eyes that glow when she’s delighted.  We have tons to talk about, and we’ve laughed most of the time we’re together, on our two dates.  I love being so engaged in a conversation, and I love talking to someone smarter than me.

Thursday, we gave a hug and went happily our separate ways to our cars after goodbye, having already planned for Tuesday.  And last night, well, I think I muffed the goodbye there.  We’d driven in her car to a coffee shop, and she was dropping me back at mine. Without thinking, I jumped out and leaned down to say what a good time it had been.  Even before I had that sentence finished, I was frustrated that I hadn’t stayed in the passenger seat for a minute longer and taken a look in Red’s eyes – because I’d have loved to end the evening with a kiss or two.  We also failed to make a future date, even though I think we both would like to – again, probably my fault for leaping out of the car.

Since I’ve done dozens of them, you’d think I’d have this first/second/third-date-type stuff down.  I’d like to say that this one can be chalked up to a simple execution error, but I think it’s more of a trend.  After all, when the Biomed Engineer (we dated for six months this winter) dropped me off at my car on our second date, we accomplished the front-seat first kiss, awkwardly twisted torsos and all.  I’m a bit of a first kiss expert, even, and I can usually read my date’s face well enough to know if they’re thinking along the same lines I am.  If they are, I have no trouble making the first move.  Unless, of course, my date is a woman.  Everything else is the same – I want a kiss, I can tell that she does … and I fail to make it happen.

I’m a little bit baffled by this shyness.  “Shyness”, even, since I am the farthest thing from shy.  I’m almost never dumbfounded this way with a man.  So … why?  I have no doubts about my bisexuality.  In high school, I had one boyfriend and one girlfriend.  Ever since, I’ve had bunches of each.  The only thing I can come up with – and it’s a very uncomfortable thing – is that with men, I let traditional gender roles take the pressure off.  By ascribing responsibility for the first kiss to my date if he’s a man, I make it easier for myself to make the first move.  Or perhaps it’s that gender stereotypes allow me to be less concerned about a lack of desire on my date’s part if he’s a man?  Probably both.  And this stuff happens in my mind instantly, subconsciously, and it causes about thirty seconds of hesitation … which kills the moment.  Every time.  The thing is, the girls aren’t kissing me, either.

In that long moment, the women I’m with are paralyzed too with hesitation.  And these women are all bisexual, like me.  I have almost never dated a woman who sees women exclusively.  Many lesbians shun other women who also date men.  And enjoying the company of men and sex with men is part of me, no matter who I’m currently dating.  for these reasons, I am almost always dating other bisexual women.  I love it – they almost always understand me perfectly, and they are naturally the best people-watching companions ever.  So all my dates with women are the combination of two bisexual girls.  And when we want to kiss each other, intend to, even, something makes us halt and hesitate.  I’m calling it Bi-Girl Syndrome, and I’ve had it as long as I can remember, thinking back.  I can’t remember a female partner who hasn’t also had it, and it reminds me of one extreme example that makes me laugh.

My friend the Writer and I had long admired one another, and the timing was never right.  Finally all the pieces fell into place, and we went on a wonderful date and greatly enjoyed each other.  Afterward, we sat on my couch, our face inches apart for hours – and never managed even so much as a goodnight kiss.  When we talked again next, we said what a mistake that had been, that we’d been wanting to sleep together for ages, and we shouldn’t have let anything stop us.  And we made another date, that was equally wonderful … and sat on the couch again, waiting.  I couldn’t take it, all of a sudden, and stood up and pulled my dress over my head.  I reached for the Writer’s hand, and she smiled at me as I led her to my bedroom, where she undressed in about five seconds flat, with zero hesitation.  And the Writer and I had a GREAT night together.

Bi-Girl Syndrome only affects that first move – but, oh, its effects are strong.  Last weekend, when Eve and I went on our first date, we each hesitated in the span of almost an entire minute, trying to clear the BGS hurdle, and we didn’t, in the end.  Tonight is my second date with Eve, and I’m promising myself to overcome my hesitation.  READERS:  hold me to it.  ; )

One, Two, Threesome!


Interested in a threesome?  Then you’d be interested in my most recent post at Singles Warehouse XXX, telling you my three rules for threeways – anything else goes!

Threesomes are three times the pleasure, and everybody deserves that experience.

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SDAW on Twitter

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