Good Girls don't have sex if...

Good girls don’t have sex if they want to get married or have a relationship. I think Emz who commented on the previous post hit the nail on the head when she said, that’s “the African Woman’s Conundrum”. I think it’s even more of a conundrum because most women intellectually know that having sex does not equate badness yet through personal experience some women have had to make the decision that if what they want is a relationship or marriage then they cannot sleep with this attractive, good looking man even if he is the one they want the relationship/marriage with. In fact, especially if he is that man.

Recently I was having dinner with a group of girlfriends (I have realised that a lot of my posts are inspired by conversations with women) and as usual the conversation turned to men and relationships. (Can I go off track here? I seriously think women spend TOO much time talking and thinking about men. It’s ridiculous. I am convinced men do not spend one-tenth of the time we spend talking about them, talking about us). Personally I had hoped that for women in their thirties this issue of “not giving it up” would no longer be an issue. I had hoped that women could decide to have safe, consensual sex with whomever they want to have sex with without waiting for a set period (in order to pass the goodness test). I had hoped that men no longer judged women by how long they took to “give it up”. Even that phrase “giving it up” is highly problematic. If sex which should be a consensual act between two individuals is often thought of as an act which one gives up and the other takes then that is where the problem starts.

Back to this dinner with my girls; over the starters and main course we updated one another on our lives and by default on our relationships/lack of relationships/complicated relationships and I found to my growing surprise that by the time dinner ended three of my girlfriends had decided not to have sex until...One girlfriend decided to abstain for a year and another joined her in solidarity. The third girl stated (I later found out that I had misquoted her slightly on the previous post – but the meaning is the same), “Why would you want to pay for the cow when you are getting the milk for free”. Oh and by the way there were only four girls at the dinner table.

Now even though I was the only girl/woman who did not sign up to not having sex until...I can understand where my sisters were coming from. My conversation with this particular group of girls is an echo of other conversations I have had, experiences I have heard about and books I have read. Experience appears to have taught a significant amount of women that if you want to be in a relationship then you better not give up the pussy too soon because the man would either:

1. Bounce because sex wasn’t that great or
2. Want to continue having sex with you but not want to formalise the relationship.
   

Darian in a comment on the previous post spoke about the inherent hypocrisy in these double standards. These rules of sex = bad girl only apply to women. The reason for this is summed up in the word oft quoted by feminists, “patriarchy”.

I for one do not want to be in a relationship with anyone who is narrow minded enough to judge me based on whether I have sex with that individual within 24 hours or 365 days.

Your thoughts?

Nana Darkoa

P.S: Nana Yaw, I have heard about re-virginisation through Marie Claire and other publications but do not have a great deal to say on the subject in this particular post. Sorry.

What shall I blog on next?

There are so many posts I want to write and I don’t know which one to focus on next so I am taking votes through your comments:

1. Shall I write on sex during your period – in this post I want to explore the notion of taboo and sex whilst menstruating.

2. Good Girls don’t have sex if they want to get married or have a relationship – in a recent conversation with some of my girls many of them said they had decided not to have sex for some time. As one of them said and I paraphrase “why would you want to pay for the cow when you already have it for free”.

3.Sex and the new media – I have no idea how this will pan out but I am very interested in new/social media and I am wondering whether this is having any impact on relationships and sex.

4.I will be visiting a sex shop when I travel (to the US) next week. So wanted to write a post on what else there is beyond vibrators (or at least the Rabbit). I seem to be obsessed with Mr V and surely there is a wider world of sex toys out there.

Is there anything else you would like me to write on?

Nana Darkoa

To Vibrate or not to Vibrate: The merits of Mechanical versus Manual Stimulation

Shane asked on a post some weeks ago if I could write a post on the merits of Mechanical versus Manual Stimulation so here goes...

For me pleasurable sex is all about my clit. Seriously, you cannot go wrong by paying a little (or a lot of) attention to my clitoris; however you can definitely go wrong when you head straight for the clit as part of foreplay (which really for me is main play. The reason is I prefer for my clit to be touched when I am wet is... a dry pussy/clit and manual stimulation does not go well at all! I really like it when (after I have been sufficiently aroused) my clit is rubbed to the point of orgasm and in this type of scenario I prefer my lover to use his fingers. Somehow, it is more intimate.

However, bringing some mechanical stimulation (a vibrator...sorry Pen Powder) into the bed definitely adds a little extra va va voom. For one, it guarantees an orgasm when you are having sex in a position where your clit is not easily stimulated. I am thinking here of the proverbial doggy style. So your lover is f***king you from behind and when you are ready to come you just hold the ears of the Rabbit against your clit. Trust me this is a great result for both of you. He gets to feel you orgasm whilst he is still inside you (all the tremors, shaking, etc) and you have a great orgasm.

Before I acquired my first vibrator I would touch myself with just my finger when masturbating but after I discovered Mr V (which is what I call my vibrator), nine times out of ten I just use Mr V. What I have realised is that Mr V guarantees an orgasm but sometimes it is just too quick, whereas if you are using your finger somehow the process is longer and so the pleasure also lasts longer.

On the other hand there are times when Mr V is just not available and so I re-discover the joys of manual stimulation...trips abroad and being horny in the workplace are just two of the scenarios that come to mind. I have never been able to travel with my vibrator, I just have a fear that a customs officer will manually search my luggage and say “Now what do we have here?”

What are your thoughts on manual versus mechanical stimulation?


Nana Darkoa

Guest Blogger Nana Yaw Asiedu on eating "Melons"

Being unable to lift you
Being so rounded and so full
I sure cannot eat you whole
So I go from piece to piece
I discard your black clothing
And how you’re fleshy inside
I take a part and lick it all
And each next is sweeter still
Being so big it takes some time
But I get to the piece I saved for last
And like a slave I get to work
Even when all the juice is gone
Even when all the fruit is gone
I know I am hungry still
I stay long enough to kill
Till what’s left has got no taste
But still I am in no haste
Finally I have to let go
I’ll not hunger for one week
Anyway I’ll be too weak.

Nana Yaw Asiedu blogs at http://www.antirhythm.blogspot.com/

Nana Darkoa's P.S: Can you believe NY wrote this poetry when he was a virgin? Who says sexuality has to be inextricably linked to sex? Does poetry turn you on?

Say Hello to My “little” Friend

There comes a point in every relationship when you have to introduce a third party to spice things up. For some of the more freakier people out there (okay, lets not judge them; lets call them “adventurous”), this may mean bringing another man or woman into the bedroom. Some people like/need to watch porn to get their rocks off. For others, electronic devices seem to do the trick.

I’ll never forget the day I was introduced to a vibrator. It was light yellow, about 8 – 9 inches long, and looked like a missile. It also belonged to one of my best friend’s mother, who was from the Gambia.

“Come to my parent’s room,” said Issa. “I want to show you something.”

In my experience, going to one’s own parent’s room was dangerous enough, but violating the sanctity of another person’s parent’s room was truly taboo.

“Nooo,” I said. “I think I should stay right here.”

“Here” was in the hall; the acceptable place for all visitors in African society.

Issa grabbed my hand and told me to hurry. Her mom would be back soon. We went up the stairs and into the impressively decorated sanctum of Auntie Ida’s room. Issa went into her lingerie drawer and pulled out the missile.

“Look at this!” she whispered loudly. “I can’t believe my parents use one of these!”

I didn’t know what the hell I was looking at, so all I could muster was an “Oh…I see.”

“Do you know what this is?” asked Issa.

A blank look from me. She commanded me to hold it and smell it. I recoiled…because again, I didn’t know what the hell it was, and how useful it might be to her mother.

“It’s a VIBRATOR!” she exclaimed in exasperation.

Still, blankness shadowed my face.

“Ebei! You really don’t know anything, do you?” Her disgust was apparent, and I sensed that I had caused an anti-climatic end to minutes of plotting and planning on her behalf. She put the vibrator back in the draw and pushed me out the door.

Years later, I attended a Pure Romance party with some friends and was introduced to ‘The Liberator’…a purple, latex electronic penis that instantly caused a stir and wetness in my pants on sight. After gingerly rubbing my hands over the head of, El Liberator I passed him/it on to the lady to the left of me. Suddenly, I was taken back to Auntie Ida’s room to that fateful day in 1992. I also thought of Uncle Ahmed. He was a big, impressively built fellow, but did he lack skill in bed? Was his dick small, despite his large physique? Did Auntie Ida have to “finish the job” herself in the bathroom with her yellow vibrator in order to reach a climax? Or worse yet…did the vibrator belong to Uncle Ahmed???? No, no…he was a strict Muslim and would never…Or would he?

I don’t know what the dynamics of relationship between Auntie Ida, Uncle Ahmed and the little yellow missile were, but for my own part, I’m considering bringing the Liberator home to see how my husband would feel about it. Does that make a freak? 30 years ago, maybe; but today, hardly.

Does anybody else out there have a “little friend” you’re considering bringing to the party? I want to know!

Cunninglus or Getting to know yourself

A lady brought some second hand books to my office to sell. She had been there previously to sell books and I wasn’t interested in anything she had at the time. So I told her my preference in books...she came yesterday with books by Iyanla Vanzant, Maya Angelou, Alice Walker and Whoopi Goldberg. I already had a copy of the book she had brought by Maya (she is my favourite author in the whole wide world, one of my greatest wishes is to meet her so if you can hook up a sister I shall be ever grateful) so I did not purchase it. I had read the book she brought by Alice Walker but did not own it so purchased it anyway. Not a fan of Iyanla so left that behind. I was thinking to myself “why on earth would I want to read Whoopi Goldberg” so thought I would flip through the contents page. There was a chapter on sex so I scanned the chapter and I saw this:

“When I was younger I tried to go down on myself, with some success. I actually could reach, and I remember thinking that was a big deal, but I couldn’t do much down there. I could get to it, but that wasn’t enough. You have to be double- jointed and flexible and big into yoga if you want to get anything accomplished. I couldn’t really get off on just reaching. A lot of people have probably tried. (Shit I hope so; I just admitted I tried to eat myself out when I was a kid so y’all better be fallin’ in line right behind me.)I think guys have it easier, because their dicks are reaching back in the other direction; they’re helping out a little bit. It’s easier to get to dick than pussy, if it’s your dick or pussy. And with pussy you not only have to get down there, you have to kind of get down and around and underneath. You have to be able to see what you’re doing, get a feel for the area, spend some time with it, only with me it was just too fucking uncomfortable to keep at it. I was all curled and rolled into a ball and craning my neck like a long-necked dinosaur in the fetal position” Goldberg, W. (1997) Book. New York: Roy Weisbach Books, pp117-118

I had read enough. I bought the book.

What I liked about this piece is that Whoopi actually tried to get to know her pussy (or whatever name you call your vagina – check out Ms Kitty Kat’s post). How many of us try to know our pussy? What does it look like? What does it feel like? Dare I say, what does it taste like?

I was chatting to one of my male friends the other day; he hasn’t had intercourse this year, has recently broken up with his wife and he said to me “I miss eating pussy”. I thought (almost simultaneously) “Ahhh” and “I thought guys didn’t like going down, and only did it under duress”. Your thoughts?

Nana Darkoa

He Killed Our Relationship with a Kiss

Arguably, one could say that many relationships are determined by that first kiss. I am of the opinion that a kiss, like a person’s eyes, is a window into that person’s soul. How does your man approach his kiss with you? Is he intense, shy, forceful? How you kiss and are being kissed says a lot about you and the object of your desire…or in the case, your repulsion.

I want to share a ghastly experience that haunts me to this day. Ironically, said ghastly experience brings a deep chuckle to my good friend (and co-blogger) Nana, whenever we have occasion to bring it up.

In our secondary school years (back in 1996 when light skinned or ‘half caste’ guys were “in”) we shared a mutual interest in a particular young man with caramel colored skin, soft pouty lips and long eyelashes. We’ll just call him ‘Marboo’. Marboo was from Liberia and was very different from Ghanaian boys. He had a swagger and an “I don’t care-ism” about him that appealed to us both. Nana and I had watched other foolish girls on our campus fall out with each other over the pursuit of boys, and we made a pact: Whoever Marboo showed the most interest in would be free to date him without the interference of the other. In fact, we would support the other in such an event.

After a few weeks of co-courting, Marboo decided it was I that he was interested in. I was elated! I traveled from Labone to community 12 in Tema to visit him whenever I could. After a few weeks of taking it slow, Marboo decided to go in for the kill when I visited him at his home one evening. He suggested that we go for a stroll around his neighborhood and took me to a remote corner, where the only feature of interest was a cinder-block wall. Marboo inched closer to me. The first thing I noticed is that he smelled of sweat and Lifebuoy soap. Not very pleasing to the senses, but whatever. I waited in breathless anticipation for our mouths to touch. He pushed me forcefully against the wall (ooohh, hot!!) and began to assault my face with a barrage of…kisses? In no time did his mouth touch mine. His lips were everywhere, leaving spittle and slobber and SPIT all over my face and hair. I think I felt some drip down my neck. I starred at him in disbelief when it was all over. He mistook the look for awe, or perhaps appreciation.

“I hope you enjoyed that,” he said.

“Yeah,” I said. “That was something.”

He asked me to walk HIM home and once he was safely at his doorstep, I took a taxi…straight to Nana’s house to tell her about what had just transpired. She cackled the same way then as she does today when we talk about Marboo and the night he bathed me with his mouth. I never spoke to him again after that, despite his lazy attempts to ‘stalk’ and contact me.

What’s the worst kiss you have ever had to endure? Please share. I don’t want to feel like I am alone in this.

uploaded on behalf of Abena

Abstinence in a sex obsessed world?

A post on abstinence on a blog that seeks to provide a space for African women to share tips, experiences and more... Well, why not? When I read the request to write a post on abstinence I had to laugh. I laughed because I haven’t ever made a conscious decision to practice abstinence and frankly I do not want to be celibate. I have had conversations with one of my friends on the subject of abstinence several times but I don’t really feel like celibacy is for me.

I suspect that there are a variety of reasons why people practice abstinence. One of my girlfriends is celibate at the moment because her last relationship ended a few months ago. In a conversation with another girl a couple of months ago she mentioned to me that she has been celibate since her last relationship broke up – her reason was to develop a closer spiritual relationship with God so it was out with everything sexual – no kissing, vibrators, nothing.


According to my dear friend Abena (and fellow collaborator on this blog) the only thing worse than no sex is bad sex...

I am very curious about abstinence though and because I do not have a great deal of knowledge or insight on the subject I am going to pose a series of questions aimed at people who practice celibacy or abstain from sex. I hope you can provide some answers to so we can learn more together:

• What do you do when you feel horny?
• How long have you been celibate for?
• How do you experience your sexuality?
• Have you had sex before?
• What are you looking forward to the most when you next have sex?
• Do you know anyone who is celibate?
• Is it better to abstain from sex than to have bad sex?
  
  Nana Darkoa