Some celebrities are definitely more open with their sexuality than others, but let’s face it – sex is a part of life, and with the exception of a few monks/nuns who have taken that vow of celibacy, everybody has sex at some point or another. And everyone talks about it at some point or another. Most of us just discuss sex with our best friends or significant other, but some celebs have talked about it during interviews. Here’s what they’ve had to say:

“From the moment I was six, I felt sexy. And let me tell you it was hell, sheer hell, waiting to do something about it.” – Bette Davis

“I need more sex, OK? Before I die I wanna taste everyone in the world.” – Angelina Jolie

“Good sex is like good bridge. If you don’t have a good partner, you’d better have a good hand.” – Mae West (or Woody Allen?)

“Clinton lied. A man might forget where he parks or where he lives, but he never forgets oral sex, no matter how bad it is.” -former First Lady Barbara Bush

“I think people should be free to engage in any sexual practices they choose. They should draw the line at goats though” – Elton John

“It’s so long since I’ve had sex, I’ve forgotten who ties up whom.” – Joan Rivers

“Playboy was founded on the notion that nice girls like sex too.” – Hugh Hefner

“Being a sex symbol is a heavy load to carry, especially when one is tired, hurt and bewildered.” – Marilyn Monroe

“Sex is a bad thing because it rumples the clothes.” – Jacki O

“Remember, sex is like a Chinese dinner. It ain’t over ’til you both get your cookie.” – Alec Baldwin

“Kissing – and I mean like, yummy, smacking kissing – is the most delicious, most beautiful and passionate thing that two people can do, bar none. Better than sex, hands down.” – Drew Barrymore

“I’m a pretty open person. Like, if I have good sex, then the next day I’m going to tell everyone I know about it. ” – Melissa Joan Hart

“Trying to seduce an audience is the basis of rock ‘n roll, and if I may say so, I’m pretty good at it.” – Jon Bon Jovi

“Fifty percent of life in the NBA is sex. The other 50 percent is money.” – Dennis Rodman

“Sex is more exciting on the screen and between the pages than between the sheets.” – Andy Warhol

Here are some facts I bet you didn’t know about orgasms!

~The G in G-spot is short for Grafenberg. That’s the name of the scientist who discovered it.

~1 in 10 women say that they’ve never had an orgasm, and around 2 or 3 in 10 have them very rarely.

~On average, it takes a woman 20 minutes to reach orgasm.

~Smoking and drinking makes it harder for a woman to orgasm.

~Some research is showing that you may improve your chances of getting pregnant if you orgasm at the same time or after your male partner. However, it’s not crucial to orgasm to have a baby.

~If you orgasm during or before your period, you can help relieve cramps and stress.

~Vibrators were created in the 19th century because it was thought that stimulated orgasms were a cure for “hysteria”.

~Girls have wet dreams too, but not as commonly as guys.

~50% of females have orgasmed at least once before turning 16.

~Only a small percentage of women have ever squirted, but it does happen. And no, it isn’t possible for everyone, even with the most highly-skilled partner. When a women does squirt, though, it is not urine – it’s a liquid from two prostate-like glands in her body.

~Only about 1% of women can orgasm purely though breast or nipple stimulation

And here’s the big one: A study was done with hundreds of people, both couples and those not in a relationship. 44% of males in that study said that their partners always orgasmed during sex. However, only 22% of women reported actually orgasming every time.

That means that 22% of women are really good at faking it and do, regularly!

He texted me during the second quarter: “I miss you.”

I looked at my phone, a bit awestruck for lack of a better world. It has been weeks since I heard from J* and the girl next door, as I’m sure you are all aware by the lack of posts about them. So, you can imagine my surprise at this random text message from J* as I stood packed into the crowd last Saturday, cheering on my favorite college football team with one of my good friends. My cell phone buzzed against my hip and amid the screaming, I was in my own world. He missed me. I snapped my phone closed and tried to concentrate on the game again.

After all, the last meeting I had with J* didn’t go so well, and since then I’ve gone from spending much of my free time exploring the pleasures of the flesh – my flesh – with both J* and the girl next door to keeping our curtains closed. I saw J* for the first time at the park the other day. My eyes blazed into his back until he turned around and caught them. I looked him up and down and walked away. God, how I wanted to rip off his shirt right there. It took every ounce of my willpower to keep walking.

*Buzz*

“I see you.”

There’s nothing more unnerving than knowing someone is looking at you when you you can’t see them. He must be at the game too. I looked around trying to spot him in the 50,000+ crowd.

*Buzz*

“Come get a soda with me at halftime.”

Of course, every play to finish the half seemed to take longer and longer. I swear, the officials reviewed them all. Finally, though, the clock ran out and I hurried to the nearest soda stand. He knew where I was, so he knew where I’d be.

Then, suddenly, there he was capturing me in his arms for a hug. He was wearing a jersey and jeans, and he looked casual and sport and hot as hell. The crowd swarmed around us as he stood there with me still in his arms. “I miss you too,” I mouthed.

J* and I weren’t friends. Hell, we haven’t even known one another for long. But I felt so full with him inside of me. I loved to imagine him loving me. Thoughts of his rock-hard abs and the thin happy trail leading down to his rock-hard cock was better masturbation material than any pornography you could ever imagine.

Continue Reading »

I used to see this guy who was really bad at sex. He obviously enjoyed it a lot and even was “experienced” enough that he should have been decent, and yet there he was, he ass in the air, thrusting away like the Little Engine that Could and falling over himself to pull out before cumming, even though he was wearing a condom. Extra precaution, he’d say. He looked like he was having an epileptic seizure every time we fucked.

Sex with my mystery fellow lasted…oh…three minutes at best. He had a nice, big dick, though – nothing that smelled funky or was laughably small or thin. That’s the sad part of my tale. If he knew how to work it, sex with him would be really could. He certainly was long and thick enough. He even shaved his balls for me. Talk about romance.

But then he’s get himself worked up and start a-thrusting away, crushing me as he leaned too much of his weight on my chest and making me turn my head as he’d literally start panting in my face, the sweat dripping in his eyes and rolling down his back. Ten second later, he was done, hogging his tiny bed and snoring louder than my grandpa. That’s pretty damn loud.

And I’d fake the orgasm. He didn’t know any better. I’d just fake about 80% of the time and tell the truth the other 20% of the time. I’m usually a big fan of telling the truth all of the time, but he just seemed so dejected every time I didn’t orgasm for him. He knew he was bad at sex. When I lied and faked the orgasm, it just seemed to make his day, so I continued to do it throughout our brief relationship.

Sometimes, when I’m snuggled up next to my current squeeze, legs wobbly and heart still racing from an awesome orgasm, I think about this guy from my past, imagine him on top of me looking like a spasming seal, and laugh. I wonder where he is now…