ON THE COUCH: Saying Goodbye

In the course of my practice I unfortunately see a lot of people break up. Even though the career goal of a sex coach is usually to help people stay together, sometimes the best medicine is assuring them that what they once had is gone and it’s time to end it.

In my own life, I was in a long term relationship that ended not once but eight times. Finally we called a truce, went to therapy to find out what the heck was ailing us in the first place that made us unable to stay together or leave, and we did it! We ended our relationship with dignity, grace, and a helluva good party. After doing “the work” to know our choices clearly, we were done. Finished. Finito. Over.

Saying goodbye can be a healthy final curtain to a long play. Good or bad, that play has to end whether you do it while taking bows to the applause of your friends, or of your honey herself, or you just do a quick name change online and become a missing person to all but the old lady you bagged years ago, who birthed your pups.

Let’s face it: all relationships eventually end, if you factor death into the equation. But if you don’t choose to wait till the last moment, when you’re drooling and hanging over your walker in that nursing home, longing to throw a kiss to the pretty thing in the tight white uniform who’s given you a 30 second boner, then you better read on for tips on letting go when it’s time.


What do I mean by a common profile? You and your girlfriend, wife, or common law cohabitant have been on the skids for months if not years, suffering the wisecracks and emotional desert of “no love” and the physical hardship of “no hard lovin’,” and it stinks. One or both of you say, maybe to yourselves, maybe out loud, “Maybe it’s time to call it quits.”

What do you do now?

Here is a set of options to follow, in sequence. If you don’t reach the goal with step one, go on to step two, and so on. The more sure you are that it’s time to cut the knot, the less agonizing you have to do. Being sure of your decision is the most powerful part of splitting up. Once you know in your groin, heart, or soul that this has got to end, it’s easy to find the means.

Until that moment, try these steps:


First, there are the quick fix approaches. You know the kind, like searching online for pop psych solutions to your love life woes. Of course, many of these folks aren’t legit, but you can learn a lot from the Mount Everest of tips out there in the advice world.

Maybe you find the “tell all” advisers, who tell you to write her a letter revealing your deepest, darkest secret: say, that you’ve always loved her sister, not her, and have endured these past 20 years because of guilt. Or take the advice of some 20 year old about your 34 years of marriage: that an affair may be just what an old codger like you needs to reboot your sexiness.

If you’re looking for a cure for your 45 second erection, a host of sites will sell you White Light in a Bottle, or maybe snake venom. Maybe you can buy the actual snake, if it happens that you found out that your significant other was cheating and are looking for a way of dealing with it.

You can buy gadgets and try gimmicks: romantic dinners in the moonlight, or a penile sleeve to practice in, or reminders of how hot she is, as a way to respark her interest in you (or yours in her). But, sadly, the problem isn’t usually what’s between her legs or inside your jockstrap. It’s what’s sitting in her emotional center or lying between her ears that has you on the death curve in your relationship.


Which leads us to why professionals are often needed to get you in the ring to duke it out to the finish. A counselor worth his/her salt won’t actually get the two of you fighting, but will ask you to let out what’s been bugging you inside.

This can lead to some anger being expressed, but under the anger, for most men, is the real stuff, the repressed emotional baggage: sadness, guilt, shame, fear, and other brands of feelings that can be called whatever seems most right.

The best professional association in the U.S. is the one I’m president of: the American Association of Sexuality Educators, Counselors, and Therapists. At www.aasect.org, you can find experts who have the years of education and training, years of supervision, and specific expertise to guide a couple with relationship or sexual problems.


If you’re too stubborn or scared to hire a coach or counselor and want to do it your way, at least try to express those feelings. You can work out what has built up over the years as gunk in the engine as anger, sadness, unexpressed happiness, lack of appreciation. Even if you know in the depth of your being that you have more than one foot out the door, be real with your emotions and with her.

Tell her how you really feel, but not as fodder for battle. Keep your focus on real gut level sharing, not the useless “blame or complain game.” Sometimes just being honest and authentic, sharing how you really feel, can be the antidote or the lasso on the horns of this dilemma that frees you both to decide to split.

Use the “positive sandwich” approach: Say something nice first, then some negative message, then another nice statement. Here’s a scenario that could happen to a couple who are stuck and may be better off if they ended it. You might say to her:

“Honey, you know that for years I thought you were the best thing that ever happened to me.” (Positive.)

“But lately we’ve drifted far apart, with all my traveling for work, leaving you to whine and groan about my being gone so much. Well, I’ve got to be honest. You haven’t been terribly supportive. You know that my job means the world to me, and that I’m not quitting it. I think it’s time for us to end this and move on.” (Negative.)

“But you know I’ll always appreciate what we had, and the great times we shared.” (Positive.)


If you’ve tried going to therapy or reading those self help books that crowd the bookstore shelves, if you’ve bought every sex toy known to man, if you’ve shared conversations for months about what the two of you need to do to get the relationship back on track but it’s not then sometimes you need to take charge and walk away.

If your mate is abusive emotionally or physically, or is a drunk or drug abuser, and if you’re trapped in a hell you never imagined, then walk away if you can. Even if there are children involved, if after counseling up the wazoo you still can’t resolve it, then I say walk away. I support your life as being healthy, kids or not.


Finally, I say to you that love doesn’t ever die. There may always be a special place in the inner chambers of her or your heart for each other.

That doesn’t mean you have to spend the rest of your days living in hell or purgatory. You can leave and still feel love. Especially if you have kids, your relationship with the spouse or life partner with whom you produced those sons and daughters is forever, like it or not. But the form can change. You can leave. You can end it in the form it now is.

And at the end of the day, there are the touching stories of couples who divorce and then remarry. I never say “never” to my clients. I say “Keep a light burning” for that rare but “you never know” possibility that things could change, that you could come back together again.

Meanwhile, live each day to the fullest.

ON THE BELTWAY: Three Cheers for the RTA!

A valiant effort is under way to organize the adult entertainment industry into good citizens who will help parents prevent their children from viewing age inappropriate material on the Internet. The idea is to get adult webmasters to voluntarily place RTA (“Restricted to Adults”) labels on their sites. The RTA label is free to use, voluntary, and universally available to any website that wishes to clearly label itself as being inappropriate for viewing by minors.

So far, this cat herding process is going well, thanks to the efforts of the group that developed the RTA, the Association of Sites Advocating Child Protection (ASACP). Founded in 1996, ASACP is a nonprofit organization dedicated to eliminating child pornography from the Internet. (For more on ASACP see January’s column, “The Adult Industry Plays Offense in the Online World.”) It draws support from adult sites and at the same time assists law enforcement in the fight against child porn.

In the last year or so, ASACP Executive Director Joan Irvine has expanded the function of the group to include promotion of the RTA labels. Her program promises to help protect children from age inappropriate materials at the same time that it may well benefit the adult Internet particularly in the United States by heading off federal legislation threatening mandatory labeling, with criminal penalties for noncompliance.

Three separate bills now pending in Congress adopt language originally proposed by Attorney General Alberto Gonzales in 2006 requiring the placement of warning labels on commercial websites containing sexually explicit material. Under such a law, specific meta tags, using specs to be determined by the Federal Trade Commission, would have to be embedded in the headers of every page on every adult site. The penalty for failing to do so would be up to five years in prison.

Five years in prison? Here we go again! More draconian overkill by angry and ignorant lawmakers who believe that adult entertainment targets children. In truth, adult entertainment owners are not interested in attracting underage viewers. For one thing, minors don’t generally have credit cards or money to spend on adult sites. For another thing, a great many adult businesspeople have children themselves, and most of those who don’t have kids nonetheless care about kids.

In general, adult entertainment owners, staff, and personnel represent a cross section of the general population when it comes to caring about our nation’s children. Granted, some are far too casual and sloppy, putting explicit imagery on front pages and generally ignoring basic common sense about protecting against accidental exposure to graphic photos.

For them there should be sanctions, stern warnings, perhaps followed by civil fines or other proportional remedies. It certainly doesn’t make sense to impose harsh prison sentences as if that would stamp out explicit imagery on the Internet, especially given that a large percentage of such images originate from foreign sources.

There are many other problems with mandatory labeling schemes, not the least of which is the definition of “adult.” There exists a vast gray area of websites not adult websites in the usual sense, but sites that could be prosecuted under labeling laws that contain health, educational, artistic, and general information about sexuality of appropriate interest to older minors.

Filters that rely on keywords to indiscriminately block materials often over block to include these kinds of sites. Clearly, words like “breast,” or four letter words used in a nonsexual context, should not be blocked for 17 year olds browsing the Internet. How much better would it be if members of the adult Internet voluntarily labeled themselves as adult entertainment, thereby allowing parents to use filtering software that blocks explicit sex but allows information on safe sex practices or sexual health?

What about companies outside the United States, who would have no legal reason to voluntarily label? Actually, some of them will label. There are many foreign companies that comply with U.S. Section 2257 record keeping regulations. And they have little reason not to label, for the same reasons cited above: Kids don’t buy subscriptions. And the Russians often blamed for extreme forms of sex easily available on the Internet have children too.

Furthermore, there are no business advantages in not labeling, and there could be some business advantages in labeling, if ASACP has its way. The organization hopes to work with search engines and Internet service providers to make site labeling an advantage for example, by giving properly labeled sites better position in search lists.

The labeling issue (mandatory versus voluntary), ASCAP’s efforts, and the hopes of staving off labeling legislation must all be viewed in the context of a recent court decision, hopefully the last in the long saga of the Child Online Protection Act (COPA), a federal law that was enacted in 1998 but has never taken effect because it has been under court injunction ever since, after being twice ruled unconstitutional by the U.S. Third Circuit Court of Appeals and twice considered by the Supreme Court.

COPA would impose criminal penalties for commercial Internet sites that contain “harmful matter,” unless credit cards or other age verification methods are used. What does this have to do with labeling? A great deal, as it turns out.

The purpose of labeling, whether mandatory or voluntary, is to increase the effectiveness of filters. The COPA case very much hinged on the usefulness of filters. Justice Anthony Kennedy, writing for a narrow majority in the Supreme Court’s 2004 COPA review, said the government must show why voluntary use of filters to screen out material unsuitable for children would not work as well as COPA. The High Court left standing the injunction against enforcement of COPA, while at the same time keeping open the possibility that it might ultimately be upheld after a trial, the issue of the efficacy of filters being key.

The government decided to bring the matter back for trial, and, the way these things are set up, it bounced back to the Philadelphia courtroom of U.S. District Court Judge Lowell A. Reed Jr. It was Judge Reed who originally issued the preliminary injunction blocking COPA in 1999. In March of this year, after a lengthy trial (transcripts available at www.aclu.org), Judge Reed issued a permanent injunction against COPA. The case was ACLU v. Gonzales originally ACLU v. Reno and later ACLU v. Ashcroft in the seven year litigation.

We have followed the COPA case with great interest. The stakes for freedom of the adult Internet could hardly have been higher. Thanks, Judge Reed, for your wise ruling:

“Perhaps we do the minors of this country harm if First Amendment protections, which they will with age inherit fully, are chipped away in the name of their protection.”

And thanks once again where would we be without it? to the ACLU.

“Had the decision gone the other way,” ACLU staff attorney Chris Hansen said after Judge Reed’s decision, “the Web would have had to dumb down. It would have made the entire Web homogeneous and bland, so that a six year old could read everything on the Web without anyone objecting.”

The government might choose to appeal, of course, and if the appeal were granted, COPA would go back to the Third Circuit once again, and there would be no rest for the long suffering ACLU attorneys, who surely must dream COPA arguments in their sleep after fighting the same battle since 1999.

For now, those of us who support freedom on the Internet have reason to celebrate an important victory. Note this, however: The COPA decision was based in major part on the effectiveness of filters. Judge Reed noted in his decision that even the government’s own expert witness said filters blocked at least 95 percent of sexually explicit Web pages. Filters do work, which only adds fuel to the fire of the lawmakers’ mandatory labeling schemes.

Yes, mandatory labeling would work, at least for domestic sites in the U.S., although foreign sites would not be affected. The problem is, inevitably, that no matter how carefully legislation is crafted and laws are not crafted very carefully when it comes to sexual matters fear of criminal prosecution will create a chilling effect for U.S. websites that will result in many websites that should be available to minors self labeling as adult. How much better would it be if adult entertainment sites voluntarily labeled so that parental filters could block access to them without blocking sites that include valuable and important information about sexuality?

You go, Joan Irvine and ASACP! Because yours is a righteous and important cause.

ON THE BOARDS: Sluts Are Whores

You’ve drooled over the dirty details every time Lindsay, Paris, and Britney pranced around sans panties, got bombed, and posed grinning and kissing every scuz, dirtball, and moron on the planet except you.

Good news: You have a shot. You don’t have to be cool enough to avoid the red velvet rope twanging in your face like a rubber band. All you need to get face time with famous women is money.

Even the richest stars like being richer, and it turns ‘em on to get paid just to be seen. Top stars will show up at a bar mitzvah or a sweet 16 party, or sing “Happy Birthday” at some fat cat’s party, as long as cameras flash and the check is cashed.

If your fave is a former star who pitches on a home shopping network or sells her autograph at a comic book convention, you might not have to pay much for a personal appearance. Same with B list actresses and personalities. Winner of America’s Next Top Model Caridee English has made personal appearances for as little as $3,000. Just don’t expect her to stay and mingle very long. Your chances improve if you’re inviting your star to someplace legit, like the opening of your supermarket, as guest speaker at your company’s sales meeting, or as the winner of some fancy sounding award or doctorate.

If you have an itch for Paris Hilton, she’ll make you scratch out a check for a quarter of a million. The New York Post, putting her to the test, affirmed as much, but you could get lucky: “Paris Hilton might say her minimum is $250,000 one day, and then the next day she’ll do something for free.” Yes, we’ve seen the videos.

The problem is, how do you promote an event that will feature a special appearance by Paris Hilton? You can’t say “movie star” or “that successful singer.” “Ex con” is a bit tacky. The Post usually refers to her as “heirhead” or “celebutard.” Maybe you can use the line from Rolling Stone and introduce her as “the most loathed celeprosy lesion in the history of the species.”

Britney Spears was paid $70,000 just to count backward from ten for a New Year’s Eve party. It may seem like a lot of money, but she probably had to rehearse.

So much money is being thrown at celebs that they expect to be paid when they appear at their own events! Why should Lindsay Lohan pay to hold a party somewhere when she can have venues bid and pay her a fee? A Vegas nightclub won the bragging rights to have her 21st birthday party at their venue. The deal was $200,000 to allow them to throw the party in her honor, and another $200,000 to have her back a few months later. You don’t want people thinking the first time was just some cold, calculated promotion!

According to Mike Esterman, one of the new breed of agents who broker “appearance” fees, Fergie charged “$50,000 last December hosting her own birthday party at a club in Vegas. But as of today it’s between $75,000 and $100,000 depending on where and when the event is” and various other factors and that’s just for “a meet and greet.”

Yes, say hello to your favorite babe, and kiss your bucks goodbye.


Heather Graham is turning green, over people who waste planet resources. It takes a sexy woman to make some people listen, so listen up.

Heather’s pet peeve involves cell phones: “You’ve got to unplug your charger when you’re not charging your phone.” Overcharging, she notes, wastes energy. “If everyone in America unplugged their cell phone, it would make a massive difference.”

And how about global warming, Heather? Think of all the hot air being released every time some moron yaps on a cell phone in public.

Honest and on target, Heather will speak out about most anything. She even debunks the notion of defloration as being a memorably erotic experience.

People still talk about Heather’s big scene in Sidewalks of New York where her character describes losing her virginity. Heather says she has done a bit of research since then:

“I was with a bunch of my girlfriends talking about that very subject. And we asked each other, is there anyone here who, like, had a good time when they lost their virginity? And none of us did! Even the guys didn’t. It was horrible, you know?”


When you watch a scary film, you might find yourself thinking, “It’s only a movie, it’s only a movie.” But when you watch a porn film, you never think, “She’s only acting, she’s only acting “

You also don’t think a sex symbol could be less than sexy in real life, or a bad lay, right? The truth is that some sex stars can be quite a turn off, and some who exude sex appeal are the first to beg off with a headache.

Jessica Simpson is definitely not your choice for a romantic dinner out, not if the pasta was in a cream sauce, or if she couldn’t resist a sweet dessert. “It’s tough,” she admits. “I’m not good on sugar. Or dairy.” Get the hint? If not, wait till there’s something in the air and a variety of sounds and smells. Jessica is lactose intolerant, and if she eats something bad for her, it’ll be bad for you too. She confesses, “You’ll hear it come out of all ends.”

As for the late Anna Nicole Smith, her diaries reveal a woman who may have spread her legs for anybody influential, but it was work, not play. Underneath those dollops of silicone was a cold heart.

Back in 1992, she let herself get involved with a CEO at Guess Jeans, calculating she’d replace Claudia Schiffer as the company’s sex symbol. “O my Gosh!!” she wrote in her diary, “I’m so excited!! I can’t believe this. This could be it” followed by five smiley faces. She invested $3,000 in sexy clothes, writing illiterately, “I hope it empresses Paul.”

Her “auditions” worked, and she got the job. But, she wrote, “I don’t know [sic] what to do about Paul,” and declared, “I hate for men to want sex all the time. I hate sex.”

So she married a rich guy 63 years older than herself.

A glamorous blonde who’s going to burp or fart just when you’re admiring her face and figure? A star who will do it with a CEO or lawyer if it’ll help her make money? Now you know the difference between illusion and reality. Or as Anna wrote, not long after her grousing about having to put out for Paul: “Took a Zandrex!”


What a long, strange trip it’s been for Larry David’s screen wife Cheryl Hines. When you watch Curb Your Enthusiasm, assuming you like to watch a numb faced guy kvetching while the world’s worst theme song plays in the background, you’ll notice Cheryl doing a comic job of playing Larry’s wife and seeming to suffer a fool gladly. (In real life, this year we learned that Larry and Laurie David split up.)

Cheryl’s early days in show biz were not so funny.

Her first job was showing her hiney to sado pervert wannabes! Raised in Florida, she went to work at the Universal Studios theme park, where she recreated the naked shower scene from Hitchcock’s classic horror film Psycho. Twelve times a day Cheryl would wear a skintight body stocking and mime taking a shower.

Volunteers from the audience would be allowed to take a stab at her with a rubber knife! As she recalls, without much amusement, “People were standing nearby to make sure that nobody really went at me. It wouldn’t really hurt, but it would be far creepier than you’d prefer on a workday.”


1. “She has triple coverage as a minority. She’s a woman, she’s a lesbian, and she’s fat. We can’t do anything with her. She’s like a spotted owl. She’s an endangered species. She’s protected by the government.”

(a) Donald Trump on Rosie O’Donnell

(b) Adam Carolla on Rosie O’Donnell

(c) Harry Truman on Eleanor Roosevelt

2. Calling him “pretty dorky,” she added: “Many daughters would say their dad is sexy, but my dad definitely is not.”

(a) Cate, daughter of presidential candidate John Edwards

(b) Jenna, daughter of President George Bush

(c) Ella, daughter of John Travolta

3. “I’m not afraid to say the word fag. I’m not gonna walk on glass because maybe some dude is gonna be offended if I say the word fag. . . . I’m gonna fuckin’ say it. And if somebody has a problem with that, they can kiss my fuckin’ ass.”

(a) Simon Cowell

(b) Celine Dion

(c) Mickey Rourke

4. Delivering a bunch of ribald euphemisms without even knowing it, she said: “I am a lay it on the table kind of girl. No nonsense. I’d rather have honest relationships, because life is too short to beat around the bush.”

(a) Hillary Clinton

(b) Hilary Swank

(c) Kate Bush

5. “I think nude women look beautiful, and I think nude men look ridiculous, especially when they’re running.”

(a) Maria Sharapova

(b) Barry Bonds

(c) Michael Caine


1 (b), 2 (a), 3 (c), 4 (b), 5 (c)

ON THE EDGE: My Boyfriend, My Daddy

Lying in bed, I tell my polyamorous, married boyfriend, “When you’re with your wife, sometimes I fuck other people.”

“I know that, honey,” he says.

“Yes, but not only girls. And not only at sex parties.”

“You mean you see other men?”

“Uh huh.”

“What do you do with them?”

“I’m afraid to tell you,” I say. “I’m afraid you’ll be jealous.”

“Tell me about them.”

“Okay,” I say. “There’s Dave. Dave made me squirt.”

“I thought I was the only one that could do that!”

“No,” I say. “Dave has skills. He finger fucked my cunt, rubbing up against my G spot until I squirted. I got the coverlet all wet. He didn’t put down a towel like you do.”

“Tell me about it,” he says.

“I had a date with him,” I say. “We went out to dinner. Then he came back to my house. He took off my clothes and took off his. Then we lay down on my bed, and he wouldn’t let me touch him. He wanted to suck my big tits, so I leaned back on the pillows and let him.

“You know how hard my nipples get when you suck them. He asked me how hard I wanted my tits to be sucked on. ‘Harder,’ I said, and he sucked harder. It’s like there’s an electric connection between my tits and my pussy. My pussy just got all hot and slippery. He could tell. I was squirming.

“He slipped his finger between my cunt lips and found my juicy pussy. He started to stroke me, and it made me really want to suck his dick. Guys love how I suck dick, honey. I can deep throat all the way. They like that.”

“I like that,” he says.

“I know you do. As I was sucking his dick all down my throat, I occasionally flicked my tongue across the tip of his cock. He moaned, ran his fingers through my hair, and murmured, ‘Oh baby, you do that good.’ It made me very happy.

“Then, because he would have come otherwise, he made me stop. He wanted to make me squirt first. He had me lie back down and spread my legs. He got his fingers inside my pussy and curved them a little so that they would rub up against my G spot. Then he fucked them in and out, hard like it was his dick, hard and fast until I just squirted and squirted G spot come all over the sheets and the coverlet and everything. He wasn’t like you. You always put a towel underneath me.”

“I’m more considerate,” he says. “And I know you hate to do laundry.”

“Thank you, my love!” I say. “Um, he wasn’t the only one I fucked.”

“Who else was there?”

“There was Nikos. I know him from some parties. I fucked him last week. He took me on the Staten Island Ferry. He’s about six foot three. He’s got a beard and he’s bearlike, a big, strong guy. I loved nuzzling into his chest, watching the sunset.”

“How romantic,” he says.

“It was,” I say.

“Then what happened?”

“He took me home with him to Brooklyn,” I say. “He had me kneel on the floor of his living room and put my ass over his knee. Then he spanked me real hard.”

“Had you been bad?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I told him a sexual fantasy I told you once. He made me act it out.”

“What was it?”

“I told him I have this fantasy that I’m babysitting. The kids are asleep, and I start masturbating in the living room. The dad shows up and catches me. I’m wearing baby doll pajamas, and he chastises me for masturbating. He takes me over his knees, pulling down my pajama bloomers. With one hand he spanks my ass, while he rubs my clit with the other.

“He makes me confess what I’ve been doing: masturbating to issues of Penthouse I’ve found under his bed. I know I’m a bad girl, and he gets my ass all red with his spanking, and I come and come over his hand.”

“And did Nikos make you come that way?” he says.

“He did. I’m so sorry!”

“Sorry for what, bad girl?”

“Sorry that I let someone else do that to me.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” he says. “See, you’ve gotten my dick hard.”

“Yes, I see. It’s nice and hard. And smooth.”

“Want to suck it, baby?” he says.

“Yes, Daddy, I want to suck it.”

“You go right ahead, sweetheart. That’s right. I’m your Daddy. Not any Nikos or any Dave. And you’ve made Daddy very hot with your dirty stories.”

Sucking dick is nurturing for me. It feels like I’m nursing on it, like it’s going to give me sustenance. I’m sucking my boyfriend’s big dick, and that way I’ll be his good girl. That’s all I want to be: Daddy’s good girl. My boyfriend is my Daddy. I work hard every day I play hard. I need a Daddy in my life who’ll make sure everything is okay, and he does.

But now I have to pee. I really have to pee, and we should stop, but he makes me sit on his face instead. He makes me put my cunt on his mouth and piss. He drinks the piss right from my pussy. His dick is rock hard as he does it, gulping it down, and then, when I finally stop, he pulls himself up and I kiss his wet mouth. He kisses me and tells me he loves me. And I love him so much!

His wife won’t do these things. She just isn’t that kind of girl. But I am.

He takes me in the bathroom. His dick is so hard, he can’t tell if he needs to piss or come.

He really does need to piss. We’ve been drinking. It takes him a minute his dick is a bit shy. He turns away from me, and in a minute he’s ready to piss. I kneel down in front of him in the bathtub. He pisses all over my tits. It’s warm, and I kiss and suck the head of his dick when he’s done.

I rinse off in the shower. Then he leads me back to the bedroom and lets me go back to sucking his cock. He likes it when I graze the base of his dick with my nails and tug his balls while I suck.

I want my boyfriend Daddy’s nice thick come to shoot in my mouth. Only he won’t let me have it. Instead, he spanks my pussy with a riding crop that I keep by the bed. He spanks my ass and thighs and lets my pussy get smacked by it as well.

It hurts really good. “Yes, Daddy, yes,” I moan, opening my knees wider so he can do as he wishes to me. He smacks me with the riding crop and then tickles my clit. He smacks me and then rubs my clit again. He inserts two fingers in my cunt fucking me with them, and tickling my clit and then he stops and smacks me again.

“Oh, Daddy! Can I come now?”

“No, honey,” he says, “you have to come when I say.”

“Oh, Daddy! Okay,” I gasp.

Daddy keeps doing it to me: teasing my clit, fucking my cunt with his fingers, and beating my ass and thighs and pussy. Then he finally tells me that I can come.

“Oooh, Daddy, I’m coming!”

“That’s good, baby,” he says. “Now come for Daddy.”

I come, my cunt jerking and throbbing on his fingers.

He’s ready to fuck me now. He makes me stick up my ass. He just has to fuck me in my hot, tight little asshole. My cunt is much too wet and open for him to get the proper friction. He slides his dick in my ass. It hurts at first. I don’t know why. Oh, I know! Those other men didn’t fuck my ass. Maybe that’s why.

“It hurts, honey?” he asks.

“Uh huh.”

“That’s okay, I’ll go slow.”

He pulls it out, and puts some fingers in. Two fingers. It starts to feel good. He opens my asshole up a little. Then he licks it. I love it when he licks my asshole. He pushes his tongue in.

“Oooh, Daddy! That feels so fucking good!”

His tongue is buried in my ass.

I push my ass back more to meet his tongue. He pulls his face away.

“You like that,” he says.


“Now I’m gonna fuck you, okay?”

“Yes, Daddy,” I say. “Okay!”

I feel his dick pushing in. It’s still very tight tight but slick. Wet. He pushes down on the small of my back. That makes it tighter. Then he pulls my hips back toward him. “Just like that, honey. That’s good.”

“Good for you, Daddy! Oh, Daddy, that feels so good. Fuck me. Fuck me!”

“Yes, sweetheart.”

My breath comes out in bursts as he fucks me: “Huh! Hunh! Hunh!”

“Oh, that’s good, baby,” he groans as his come shoots up my ass. “That’s so good.”

I can’t speak, it feels so good. His dick slides out of my ass. He lies down beside me. I’m curled up on the bed, turned away from him. I move over so that my ass rubs up against his warm, spent dick. “I love you,” I whisper.

“I love you, too,” he says back, hoarsely, putting his arms around me, pulling me to him.

ON THE BOARDS: Pssst, Piss: Welcome To the Era of Overt Star Peeing

What goes on behind the closed bathroom door is now leaking out. Lately we’re privy to so much toilet news that it’s given new meaning to the term “yellow journalism.”

Madonna probably started pissing everyone off when she declared on David Letterman’s show, “Everyone pees in the shower,” urging audiences to imagine her doing it.

The ante was upped when Fergie lewdly let loose in front of a live audience, showing a gigantic wet spot. “I had a few drinks before going onstage, but I didn’t think to go to the bathroom,” she gushed.

Sheryl Crow gave fans plenty to imagine, placing one dainty square of toilet tissue on her moist nethers. Did anyone ask for a mental picture of the post urinary Crow’s nest?

“I propose a limitation be put on how many squares of toilet paper can be used in any one sitting,” Crow wrote on her blog. “I think we are an industrious enough people that we can make it work with only one square per rest room visit, except, of course, on those pesky occasions where two to three could be required.”

“Pesky” would probably be when both #1 and #2 require the use of toilet paper square #3. Jimmy Kimmel promptly declared, “Don’t ever shake Sheryl Crow’s hand.” He added: “This explains why Lance Armstrong never let her sit on his bicycle seat.”

Years ago moviegoers were aghast when Jane Fonda could be seen daubing and flushing in a controversial moment in the movie Fun with Dick and Jane. Chances are we’ll be seeing overt pissing scenes in more movies. After all, inanimate genitalia’s not enough anymore.

Last year, up skirt photos of bald crotch babes like Britney and Lindsay were all over the Internet, but impatient voyeurs want new thrills. Gossip columnist Cindy Adams declares Paris Hilton is a real pisser: “She text messages about peeing. She has headlined fights when she has to wait on line to pee. Peeing is one of her big social events.” We’re waiting for the video. Aren’t wee wee?

Among her peers, Kate Winslet may be the most sparkling actress for piss fetishists since the days of Annie Sprinkle. She recalls the most difficult moment of her film career:

“Pissing naked, in the desert, in Holy Smoke. [Director] Jane Campion just kept saying to me, ‘You’re so brave. You look great. You’re beautiful. You’re doing all the right things.’ I was 22, and there was something really triumphant about that particular scene. I was daring myself to do something that not necessarily everyone would. There was a sense of, ‘Yessss, I did it!’ afterwards. Though I still don’t quite know how I was convinced to do it.”

Let’s assume Dolly Parton is talking figuratively, not literally, as we give her the last word: “I still like to pee off the porch now and then. Nothin’ like peeing on those snobs.”


The press sops up any example of female urethra pranking, but guys have been pissing off everyone for years it’s just rarely sensual. Radar magazine reported that while filming Number 23 Jim Carrey “unzipped his fly and urinated as part of his improvisation. Everyone was horrified.”

Equally horrible have been leaked videos of guys like Chuck Berry and R. Kelly hauling out their hoses and washing out women who clearly need to dry up and find less humiliating lifestyles. Male pissing is viewed as a degrading exercise in domination, while female urination is considered a sexual thrill that breaks down boundaries. In fact there’s still debate over whether “female ejaculation” is part of the Big O or just a little “P.”

Men who engage in pissing activities tend to do it out of less than erotic impulses, although Salvador Dali once recalled that his early interest in urination was sensual: “I continued wetting my bed for a long time, not just out of contrariness, but to have the pleasure of feeling my warm urine running down my legs and wallowing in its odor.”

Mostly, male celebrities throw a little water on the electric socket just to see sparks fly. Jackson Pollock, who made it big with dribble paintings, was a real pisser. As artist Christopher Chapman recalls, Jackson was involved in “frequent and public urinating. The most famous involves Pollock pissing into Peggy Guggenheim’s fireplace. . . . It all stemmed from pissing competitions the young Jackson had with his brother Sande. In any case, it’s all tied up with pissing as a sign of masculinity.”

So is the odd case of French writer and conceptual artist Sophie Calle, who had a relationship that led to a work of art’and divorce:

“In my fantasies, I am the man. Greg noticed this very early. Maybe that’s why one day he suggested letting me help him piss. This became a ritual for us: I would stand closely behind him, unbutton his pants, take out his penis, and try my best to hold it in the right position and aim in the right direction. Afterwards I casually put it away and did up the fly. Shortly after we separated, I suggested making a photo souvenir of this ritual. He agreed. So, in a Brooklyn studio, under the eye of the camera, I made him piss in a plastic bucket. This photograph served as a pretext for placing my hand on his sex for one last time. That evening I accepted the divorce.”

Less artistic, but more typical, is Ozzy Osbourne, who in 1981 startled record company execs at a German restaurant by unzipping and unloading into a carafe of wine. The following year “Remember the Alamo” had a new meaning when he was arrested for “public intoxication” and pissing on Alamo property.

Marilyn Manson says, “I don’t like bathrooms,” and hates the sound of tinkling. He’ll flush as soon as he begins. “I hate people hearing me go to the bathroom. I do it even when people aren’t around. I can’t help it.” Yet on tour, he says, “I often urinate on the floor, like an animal.”

The piss fetish branches off into many streams. For guys like R. Kelly it may denote power (it’s coming out a lot more emphatically and copiously than anything else down there). There are also elements of sadomasochism.

You have your choice when it comes to actor Verne Troyer (Mini Me in the Austin Powers movies), who famously took a whiz in VH1′s Surreal Life series. He says it was an act of defiance, for his unsatisfactory accommodations on the show, his intended room having been taken by another C list star, Joanie Laurer. “As far as the urination, what it comes down to is, I was marking my territory.”


A woman spreading her legs is sexy, but what if she is already spread because a leg is missing? Or, and here it really gets kinky, why not fit her with a machine gun instead of a wooden leg? That’s having a blast in bed!

“There’s gun fetishists and amputee fetishists,” says Rose McGowan, “and between the two, I’m going to be really popular.” She’s referring to Grindhouse, which is most notable for Rose lifting her leg and starting fireworks.

Does Rose have kinky interests? “I’m just far too lazy for a fetish,” she says. A turn on film for her would be something light and romantic. She’s not a big fan of her early films, like Scream. “All they do now is think about ways to torture women, primarily. I don’t really get that. What is this, a manual for young budding serial killers? Can’t we just go watch Pillow Talk?”

Making Grindhouse was a grind Rose had to wear a heavy cast for the later added special effects. “I can’t say I wandered around going, ‘Oh yeah, I have a sexy great cast.’” The gamy gam scenes felt “distinctly unsexy,” but director Robert Rodriguez promised, “Don’t worry, I’ll make it super hot.” Seeing the result, “I thought, ‘Ohmygod, I’ll actually put my hand over my dad’s eyes when he sees it.’ Robert made it super hot. Wooo.”

Rose looks forward to getting back to sexy roles on her own two feet. She doesn’t want to play another fetish doll or any “cunt killed by a slasher” or any “whore with a heart of gold” roles. In fact, you have to watch your words when you talk to her: “You can call me a cunt till the cows come home, but don’t call me a whore!”


1. “Cleavage is a distraction to me. It screws up every outfit I wear.”

(a) Simon Cowell

(b) Jessica Simpson

(c) RuPaul

2. “The way Rose says ‘cocksucker’ is really great.”

(a) Donald Trump on Rosie O’Donnell

(b) Johnny Bench on Pete Rose

(c) Quentin Tarantino on Rose McGowan

3. “Lindsay Lohan showed off a tattoo on her wrist. And the tattoo says ‘BREATHE,’ which she says reminds her to breathe. On Lindsay’s other wrist, she has a tattoo that says, ‘BE SLUTTY.’

(a) Martha Stewart

(b) Dr. Phil

(c) Carson Daly

4. “My favorite thing in the world is a box of European chocolates. It’s for sure better than sex.”

(a) Alicia Silverstone

(b) Luciano Pavarotti

(c) P. Diddy

5. “I don’t know, monogamy is a weird thing for me. It’s an overrated virtue, because, let’s face it, we’re fucking animals.”

(a) Sienna Miller

(b) Jude Law

(c) Bill Clinton


1 (b), 2 (c), 3 (c), 4 (a), 5 (a)