ClueChick: real clues from a real chick

Over time, flings come and go. Lots of the guys I meet up with turn out to be one timers, whether by intention, or because of lack of interest in more on one side or both, or because subsequent meetings never manage to gel. And, for the most part, I look back on the event with fondness and no particular wishful thinking that there had been more.

There are a few instances where that's not the case: First, the fellow I fondly (and my friends less fondly) call my bad idea, who, to be fair, is someone I got together with a number of times, but I always wished for more. Second, the Brazilian (OMG, hot). And third, Mr. The View (about whom you can read here).

These are guys who I was highly interested in having further hookups with, and who expressed an interest on their sides, but circumstances prevented us from getting together again. Now, it may be that these guys are making up excuses to let me down easy, and that would be fine, but I operate on the assumption that if a guy says he wants to get together again, he does, and it's a shame when we both do but it doesn't come together due to schedules or he starts dating someone monogamous, or what have you.

But! these things happen and it's not a big deal, though I reminisce somewhat nostalgically about the really good ones who I'd like to have seen again. So it's extra delightful when I hear from one of the ones who "got away", for two reasons:

1. I might get to fuck someone who I had a really good time fucking in the past. There's no down side to this.
2. Even if we don't manage to get together, it's really awesome to have my sense of our previous encounter(s) as positive and worth remembering confirmed from his end, too.

In this case, I got an email yesterday from Mr. The View, saying he thinks of me from time to time and am I around this weekend, because he'd love to get together. *score!* Now, even if we don't get together, I know that a guy I fucked two year ago (almost to the day!) has good, happy memories of it.

That's a nice ego boost. Plus, it tells me I'm adding general good to the world. How could that fail to rock?

Posted by ClueChick at 11:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I just got my first email from down under, if I read things right! This fellow is newly single after a long time:

So now I am exploring the world of casual loving and am loving going on dates, meeting new people and all the excitement. I've had some great experiences, have come across a problem I've never faced before at the age of 33 - first kisses. Just about all my relationships/shags involved me be seduced rather than the other way around as is usual. Now I have to start making the first move! ... I can sometimes tell when the right time is when the girl is giving me all the well-known body language signs, lots of eye contact and we are generally having a good time. No problem there.

But there are other times, I think when the girl is more reserved that I'm not sure...

So what are some amusing/fun/disarming ways a bloke can go in for the first kiss?

I love this question, and not just because I was fantasizing about kissing on my drive home tonight. Kissing is really great, and it gets short shrift in the world of casual sex; people are often rushing ahead to the main event, missing a lot of great scenery along the way.

I think I'd like to address this question in the course of multiple posts, because there are so many great ways to make a move, and I'd love to hear from readers on both sides of the first kiss (kisser and kissee, if it went down with someone initiating, or kissers both, if it was entirely mutual). What are first kisses that have gone well? What are moves you wouldn't make again if someone paid you? What's a trick that didn't go smoothly but worked out anyway?

But first, let me tell you a first kiss story that has come up several times recently, and that is a very fond memory:

There's this boy. He's super cute, and at the time this story takes place, I'd known him socially for a handful of years, but only peripherally. Around this time, I was getting to know him and his wife better, and we all ended up at a sex party together, where he and I spent some time chatting about a variety of things, including how weird it can be to be at a sex party where it's kind of unclear what your role as an observer is... but that's neither here nor there.

So we're chatting, and partway through the conversation, I was struck absolutely stupid by the desire to kiss him. He was still talking and, apparently, I was, too, though I really don't know what either of us said, because all I could think about was kissing him, and here we were surrounded by people in various states of undress and somehow, I was not in the middle of kissing him, and that was causing me all kinds of consternation.

But, a real problem here is that I'm shy. Oh, sure, I flirt like nobody's business, but when it comes to making a move, I'm about as smooth as a thirteen year old boy. So, of course, I went with the classic route of hoping he'd kiss me. But it wasn't working and thus, we still weren't kissing.

Well, this went on for an embarrassingly long time, until his wife came collect him for bed for the evening. Seeing my moment escaping from me, I decided to leap, and before I tell you what I did, I want to say that in retrospect, I think this is a classy approach that I would recommend to anyone:

We were wrapping up the conversation (I still don't know what we were talking about at that point) and I looked him in the eye and said, "Would you mind if I kissed you?"

He made an eyebrows-raised surprised face and then said, "No, I'd like that!" So we did, and it was awesome. Contrarily, I'm still shy to initiate with him (though, actually, that might add a little bit of fun to our flirtation), but I've had a hell of a lot of fun kissing him from time to time, and I look forward to doing it more in the future.

(Full disclosure: After I told this story to his wife, recently, she then passed it on to him, and he came back to me and said, "But hadn't we kissed the year before at that other party?" And, I'm embarrassed to say he's entirely right, so this isn't actually a first kiss story, but it acts like one, so I'm just adding this addendum onto it, even though it makes me look silly for forgetting the first first time I'd kissed him!)

Posted by ClueChick at 10:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

It could reasonably be said that casual sex is my hobby. It's a hobby that I take pretty seriously, but that's true of many of my hobbies. It's not that I'm overly serious, I think, but I do buy into the idea that if something is worth doing, it's worth doing well. And sex is very worth doing.

But casual sex is also somewhat tiresome. One of the best things about being in a steady relationship that involves sex is that you get sex without all the work of trying to find someone you think is hot and then figure out if they think you're hot and then finding a time when you're both free and then having sex and then figuring out if you both want to do it again, all in the context of a relationship, such as it is, that gets less priority in a busy schedule than friends and family and work emergencies and what have you.

Oh, sure, sometimes there's the blissful hookup when serendipity strikes and it all comes together (pun very much intended) without a lot of effort and everyone has a blast and maybe it works out to do it again and maybe it doesn't, but that one serendipitous hookup reminds you that it can be easy being easy.

But a lot of the time, it's not.

Posted by ClueChick at 10:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I had an interesting conversation with a potential fuckee recently, talking about safer sex and in what circumstances each of us requires condoms to be in play. Earlier in the evening, while comparing notes on previous experiences, he told me that he'd met up with a couple of men he met on CL and that in the case of the one who wanted to give him a blow job, he had insisted on a condom for that. This is well within the range of normal safer sex precautions, so it didn't stand out particularly until we were talking specifics about what we might do.

Naturally, I assumed that his expectation would be to use condoms for fellatio, so you can imagine my surprise when he told me, "Of course, I'd be happiest not using condoms for oral."

Whoa! What?

Now, this is also in the realm of what I consider normal safer sex precautions, but I was struck by the fact that he would insist upon it with one person and not with another, particularly because, if I may brag, I get around a bit, so it's not like I'm a no-risk lay. So what was going on there? Maybe this other fellow was also very slutty? I asked. No, he was more of a shut-in.

This left me with the most obvious (to me) conclusion that in this case, the condom would serve as a protective barrier not against potential STIs, but, rather, against potential psychological infection. I don't know if this was about limiting intimacy and vulnerability to emotional connection or fear or worry about the gayness of having his cock sucked by a man, but I was struck by his calm explanation that you can get STIs through oral sex (obviously true) and that's why he insisted on condoms in this case.

Why not with me? I asked, of course, and he said that it was because he knows I'm reasonable and cautious and get tested regularly. If I could cross my eyes, I'm sure that I would have been while trying to wrap my head around this explanation.

There are plenty of good reasons to use condoms, and if one of them is that it allows you protection against ideas or intimacy that you want to avoid, that's fine, but it's probably a good idea to acknowledge to yourself that that's what you're doing. And ditto the reverse.

Posted by ClueChick at 5:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

This is how a "Thanks, but no, thanks," conversation should go:

[I had just explained to him how some of the things he said in an earlier conversation had made me disinclined to meet up with him.]

NG: then let's skip to the next medium, and let me try to convice you over the phone in order to avoid any misinterpretations
ClueChick: no, thanks, though
ClueChick: I'm happy to keep chatting here from time to time, but not really motivated to try to take it anywhere
NG: ok, well i don't want to beg you or anything, just seemed like someone i'd have a good time with, and you turned me on so i thought we could have some fun .... i don't want to try to convince you, i would much rather have you actually want me instead .... but if you decide to change your mind, that would be cool
ClueChick: ok, thanks :)
NG: ok, otherwise, i'll chat with you here and there .... sorry for turning you off like that

Very, very cool. I may even change my mind about him.

Posted by ClueChick at 8:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

"Nice guys finish last," the saying goes, and there seem to be lots of guys who finish last who have decided that this must mean that they're nice guys. They get the short end of the stick or the wrong side of the coin toss one time too often, more than they deserve (or so they think) and this is proof that the world is against them, even though they really are just so nice, no, really, they are.

I call these guys assholes in nice guy clothing, and they're one of my least favorite types. These are the "nice guys" who use their status as a "nice guy" to try to get their way. Is that nice? I don't think so. They think that it doesn't count as being pushy if they ask nicely, even if they're asking for the 10th time, and even if they're asking after they've been requested to stop. Nice? No. These may be the guys who creep me out the most of all of the yucky jerky types out there, because they aren't always as obvious as the guy who comes out and announces with pride that he's an asshole. (Not to mention that I've found that plenty of the guys who do that turn out to be standouts in the decency department, using the "asshole" title as a way to protect their secret sensitive sides.)

Assholes in nice guy clothing are the sorts who will say they respect women and then turn around and expect women to sleep with them merely on the basis of their being "nice". They reject the idea that women might actually have tastes and preferences and tag as "frigid" or "bitchy" any woman who has the nerve to turn them down. It's not that she's reasonably exercising her particular tastes but that she's a bitch who can't see how good he is because she only wants bad boys.

Well, I'll tell you, I'll take a bad boy who listens to me when I tell him what I want from him than a "nice" guy who ignores what I say:

AiNGC: I still pray for one more chance
AiNGC: well any chance I can get.
AiNGC: one more crack, it's a new year, after all
AiNGC: *grin*
ClueChick: are you familiar with the phrase, "No means no."?
AiNGC: yes
ClueChick: Do you know what I assume about men who pressure me to do
something after I have declined?
AiNGC: pressure?
AiNGC: I just asked nicely
ClueChick: see, asking nicely, after having been told clearly not to,
is pressure
ClueChick: it's just "nice guy" pressure. it's like an asshole in nice
guy clothing
AiNGC: LOL
AiNGC: you have me pegged well
AiNGC: but it's more persistence than anything else
ClueChick: from where I'm sitting, it means you don't take what I say
seriously
ClueChick: this is a pretty common problem among men
ClueChick: they think women don't really mean it when they say
something the guy doesn't want to hear
ClueChick: but when I say no, I mean it, and I clearly remember
explaining this to you in a past conversation
AiNGC: ok
AiNGC: won't ask again
AiNGC: grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
ClueChick: and I believe that at that time, i said I would be happy to
talk to you in the future, but I don't like having to say no, and please
don't make me do it again
AiNGC: you did that too
AiNGC: was hoping you forgot though
ClueChick: ah, and if I had forgotten it, would that make it okay for
you to ignore my request?
AiNGC: well ok to you
AiNGC: since nobody would have been harmed
ClueChick: which shows me how much you respect me and my requests
ClueChick: thus: asshole in nice guy clothing
AiNGC: ok no more asking
AiNGC: I know your memory is good

(I love that he ends this conversation not with, "Sorry to be an asshole," or "You're right, I didn't respect your request," but, rather, "Your memory is good," which is to say, obviously, that he doesn't think his asking was wrong, just his underestimating my memory. Seriously, this is one of my least favorite types of people, EVER.)

Posted by ClueChick at 5:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

You wouldn't, most likely, know it from this blog, but in person, I'm quiet and demure...

Well, that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but I am not Ms. Bold, striking out into bars across the country and picking up men with a flick of my wrist. But I'm always trying to be more bold, because I don't see a whole lot of use in being shy. And along those lines, one of the things I've long fantasized about doing is giving a guy my panties on a first date. You know, just to let him know things are going okay.

There are some tricks to this:

First, I have to be wearing panties I'm willing to give away, even if temporarily (I hope!). Normally, I'm wearing some of my favorite panties on dates, because they're sexy and they make me feel flirtier. In order for a guy to inspire me to hand over my favorite thong or my hot boy-cut lace panties, he's got to be really awesome. Or I have to be really horny. Or, ideally, both! That's a high bar.

Second, I have to be wearing a skirt. Pants and no underwear is not a good combination. You'll have to take my word for it. Or you can try it yourself if you like!

Third, I... no, actually, there are just the two things.

Well! 2007 is off to a great start, because last night, I gave a guy my panties (one of my favorite thongs, even!), telling him, "You can give these back to me when we next meet."

Pinch me!

Posted by ClueChick at 5:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

God, I am such a yuppie! How did this happen? Aren't I supposed to be subversive and wild and shifting paradigms left and right? Oh, sure, it sounds good, but when you get right down to it, I'll go to the lounge around the corner from my house and listen to Top 20 tunes and sip a girly drink any day of the week before I go to the grungy bohemian dive down the street. And you know what? I'm okay with that. And you want to know why? Because it is awesome to make out behind the dumpster of the lounge, while the dive has no good alleys at all.

Go figure.

Posted by ClueChick at 9:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

In the world of online hookups, there are a lot of standards. There's the one night stand, the friends with benefits, the intense fling, the flaccid coffee date... Every once in a while, though, something creeps up behind me and throws a twist into the mix.

I was recently contacted by an artist who's into erotic paintings. And was he looking for models to come to his studio for "modeling sessions"? That is, naturally, what I expected as I opened his email. But, no, he was looking for couples who would be willing to have sex for the camera so he could use the images for source material in his paintings.

Well, damn, that's a new one on me! I'm something of a shy exhibitionist, and having my photo taken while fucking had never made it to my list, much less my "top ten" list, of things to try. But, hey, I'm game, and I have a lover who also has been known to enjoy a bit of exhibitionism, so I called him up, and we met the artist, and we thought, "Why, what the hell?" Okay, maybe we actually thought, "That sounds new and hot!"

So we did! And it was, in fact, new and hot. (The hotness was increased by the studio lights, I'll admit. If you're ever fucking under studio lights, I recommend doing it in the winter and with a window open.) Now, the only other time I've had sex in the presence of people-not-my-lover was at a party where other folks were doing other things while also watching us. Being the center of attention was quite different! It took a while to get into things, but once we relaxed into things, it was a lot of fun.

Quite a lot of fun, in fact. It's one of those things that seems like I would do better the second or third time. I guess I'll have to find another photographer.

Posted by ClueChick at 9:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

When guys respond to my ads, they often have ideas about how our first meeting will go. Some of these ideas are unrealistic.

Things I probably won't wear to meet you:

* a wet t-shirt
* a latex bodysuit
* a vibrator (internal)
* nipple clamps (!!!)
* a tank top so tight my breasts pop out of it while we're talking

Things I probably won't say when I first meet you:

* "Hey, big boy!" (I always thought this was just a cheesy line from I-don't-know-where)
* "Let's get out of here and fuck!"
* "I forgot my panties."

Things I probably won't do when I first meet you:

* drop to my knees and unzip your fly without saying a word
* suck my finger suggestively while we talk
* hike up my skirt and finger myself while we talk

No, I'm afraid my first meetings are all very boring. But I do get a kick out of hearing people's fantasies, just as long as they're clear that they're fantasies.

Posted by ClueChick at 6:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I was out for dinner tonight with a friend, and we were eating in a restaurant that has a storefront type dining area, with tables right up to the windows. We had a table right next to the window, which I like, because I enjoy people-watching (shocker, right?).

So, we're eating, and this guy walks by, kinda strolling, and he looks in the window, checking out the restaurant, and then looking really closely at our table and food. Now, remember, he's only about three feet away from me, separated by glass, and he's basically standing there looking at my dinner, which is, I have to say, a little intrusive, but, fine, you've got bad boundaries? You and half the rest of the world, too.

But then he noticed me watching him check out my food, and he made a smoochy face at me, like he was blowing me a kiss, but without the hand motion. YUCK!

Now, listen, we all know that the difference between a welcome approach and a sleezy come-on is whether the recipient thinks the approacher is attractive, and so, invariably, every guy who's willing to take a shot is, like it or not, occasionally going to find some woman giving him that look that says, "Hey, what are you doing?" But there's a place where it's reasonable to go ahead and take the shot, and walking by a stranger's table while she eats isn't it.

You feel a little embarrassed because I "caught" you crossing a boundary? The way to handle it isn't to give me some lame, gross, fucking offensive smoochy face. Christ.

I need a vacation.

Posted by ClueChick at 10:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

One of the things that fascinates me, in general and in specific, is people's turn-ons and kinks. Oh, sure, those balloon fetishists count, but even more interesting, I think, are the more day-to-day quirks and details that get people going. I, for example, love mixing contexts: Can I hide sexual play or flirtation in a totally mundane setting? Or can I joke with my lover about some weird thing I read on the web while he goes down on me? There's an obvious titillation in the former, but for whatever reason, I really love the latter, too.

Some people are aware of their own quirks, and they may be self-conscious of them. Other people seem not to realize they're quirks at all. At any rate, talking to someone about this sort of thing doesn't always bear fruit, but it often does. This is a great thing about meeting someone new and discussing turn-ons. It helps, no doubt, that I pick up new turn-ons along the way, when someone particularly enthusiastic introduces me to his (or hers.) This can be a direct introduction (i.e., by a lover) or an indirect one (i.e., in conversation with a friend.) I enjoy both.

A turn-on doesn't even have to be unusual to be interesting. Exhibitionism and voyeurism seem nearly universal among my friends (who, I'll admit, may be unusual) and are still interesting and zingy. I'm always intrigued to meet people, though, who have something that I think of as a common turn-on and who think it's unusual. For example, I had a brief thing with a guy who's biggest hot-spot was listening to his lover come, and it took us several dates before he was comfortable enough to tell me that's what sent him. It felt like a big revelation to him, but it seemed pretty mundane to me. But, hey, cool for him, right? And it worked out well, for me, too, I'll admit.

So one of the big wins for me, one of whose quirks is my love of discovery and the unexpected, in casual sex is finding this sort of thing about a new lover. You get off on giving me a pearl necklace? It may not be my thing, but seeing you go over the moon about it will be. You've been wanting for ages to find a woman who'll lick her juices off your fingers? Lovely! I suppose that makes me what Dan Savage calls GGG, but it's not just because I'm game. After all, finding more things that get me hot is a win for me in the long run, too.

Posted by ClueChick at 6:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I had one of those inexplicable evenings where I had three (3!) men give me "Oh, baby!" comments in the five minutes it takes me to get home from my neighborhood coffee shop. What the...? I wasn't even particularly dressed up!

Until I can explain why this sort of thing happens, I probably have no business trying to give advice on sex and hookups.

Posted by ClueChick at 11:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

You know what's great? Fucking. Yeah, okay, it's not a revelatory statement, but fucking is goddamn awesome.

Pretty much everything about fucking is pretty great, too. There's the flirting, the teasing, the hinting, the batting-of-eyelashes and all that fun stuff that leads up to fucking. And then there's the full-body-contact, rubbing up against each other, getting-it-on of the actual fucking. And, then, as if that weren't enough, there's the sweet drifting down afterwards, which is when I'm always most tempted to say something that will embarrass me when I've recovered my wits, but it's also when I'm most likely to say what I'm feeling without running it by the censor, first. (Yes, no doubt these things are related.)

But, really, a day with some fucking in it is a day that's worth having. A bad day + fucking = hey, at least I got laid. A good day + fucking = really fucking awesome!

Yes, I think I'll have more fucking, please.

Posted by ClueChick at 9:47 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Do you ever wish you could watch yourself having sex? Oh, sure, I know lots of people do the home video thing, but I'm most interested, actually, in seeing if my face is actually as expressive when I'm fucking as it feels like it is. Sometimes, when my lover has his fingers inside me and is watching my face, I feel like he can see all the way to a me that I barely know, who only comes out (pun intended) when my conscious mind is distracted by the all-consuming job of saying, "Oooooh, yeeeahhh!"

What, if anything, would I learn about myself if I could see that? Maybe nothing. But I know my lovers reveal something to me when I watch their faces while we fuck, and I don't doubt that the ones who pay attention get a glimpse of something from where they are, too.

I wonder if seeing myself in a camera would be the same, or if it's a matter of being in the moment, sharing that eye contact, opening up -- almost involuntarily -- to the immediacy of the experience?

Posted by ClueChick at 11:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

I spent most of the weekend wearing a blindfold. What fun stuff did you do?

Posted by ClueChick at 8:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

You know what I think of men who ignore what I tell them? Not much.

I'm consistently amazed at how often this comes up. I often end up conversing with fellows who seem nice enough, but for whatever reason, I'm not interested in hooking up with them. Most often, this is because they're married and cheating, or looking to cheat. I like getting to know new people, but I don't lead anyone on: If you're cheating, I'm not gonna do you, and that's that. But the reason I'm not interested isn't important. The point is, sometimes, I'm not interested in fucking a guy or flirting with him, but I'd be content to chat with him.

A good 80% of the time, though, after I say that I'm not interested in hooking up and that, in fact, I'm not even interested in flirting, they say they're happy to talk. Then, predictably, they start to flirt. Then they complain when I don't flirt back.

"But you're so hot!"

Somehow, apparently, these guys think that just because they find me attractive, I'm somehow obligated to flirt with them. Or maybe they think that if they tell me I'm hot, I'll find myself unable to resist flirting back?

In fact, what I find myself unable to resist is thinking they're assholes.

Posted by ClueChick at 9:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Okay, so I've been talking vaguely about this great vacation fling I had the other week, but I haven't given you all any good details. Also, I promised yesterday that I would talk about the kind of pick-up that actually gets me into bed. Conveniently, these two themes fit together nicely.

I was on vacation, and I was getting hit on a lot, because that's what happens to women visiting beachy tourist spots, but, for the most part, the men hitting on me weren't interesting to me, until my friends and I went to what we'd taken to calling the restaurant with the hot waiters. (All the restaurants on the island are open-air, so you can preview the waitstaff, and we'd been walking by this place for a couple of days and commenting on the cute staff.) So, we got a table, sat down, and started flirting with the waiter.

(Guys, this is a good time for me to mention that if a strange woman is flirting with you, that's a very good sign, but it's not a slam-dunk, so don't get your hopes up just yet.)

One of my girlfriends seemed to hit it off with our waiter, which was fine, because one of the other waiters was more to my taste. (He had these really hot, geeky glasses. Be still my heart!) So, every time "my" waiter walked by, I made eye contact with him and held it just a little longer than would be accidental. Eye contact, we all know, is key in flirtation and pick-ups.

Soon after that, our waiter handed our table over to "my" waiter, and we got on with the serious flirtation. He was friendly but not fawning, attentive but not desperate. It was great. I'm a pretty shameless flirt, and given a responsive partner in flirtation, whether it's going anywhere or not, I'm completely happy. Also, as it turns out, this gets you better service, if the object of your flirtation is a server. We got a free carafe of wine, for example, and our water glasses were never empty.

Ultimately, however, I'm a chicken, so as our meal was winding down, I hit the point where I wasn't going to be able to move things any further along. This is, largely, because I'm shy, and just like anyone, I fear rejection. Luckily for me, as a woman, this doesn't mean I have to go home alone at the end of the night. I know this sucks for you guys out there, especially the shy ones, and I feel your pain. I figured I'd had fun flirting, and that would be that, when our (my) waiter came to the table with a round of complimentary nightcaps and a card for free drinks for the three of us (classy) at a bar nearby. He told us when he'd be done at work and would be at the bar.

Let me interrupt my story for little bit of commentary, here. First, this guy was paying enough attention to know I was flirting with him, and to play it up. He didn't jump the gun and try to invite us out in the first gambit of the conversation, but he also didn't wait until we were actually departing the restaurant. Of course, he had the advantage of knowing we'd be there for a while, which isn't necessarily true of a woman you might want to hit up in a cafe or a bar, but if you know you have plenty of time, using all of it is absolutely the way to go. He was funny and charming, and when the time came to step up and move things from casual flirtation to serious intent, he did it smoothly and without pressure. He was clearly interested in me, but he included my friends in the invitation, which is both obvious and genius. Very few guys do this, despite it being obvious, but it'll increase your odds a lot, because a woman is unlikely to want to go into a strange situation by herself, and also, because it's just good manners.

Now, it turns out my friends couldn't come to the bar because they were getting up early the next morning. (I was on vacation, which meant no plans that involved having to be up before 10am for me.) We told him this, so he wouldn't bring friends along to flirt with my friends, and he and I agreed we'd see each other later. I told him my name and offered him my hand to shake, which he, of course, kissed. This move can be cheesy, but in this case, it really worked, but, then, I'd already decided I'd be sleeping with him later.

Posted by ClueChick at 5:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Continuing my discussion of pick-ups and picking up random people out and about, today I'll answer G's question about how someone can successfully approach me without seeming creepy.

First, if you define a "successful" approach as one where we end up having coffee together later, or, even more challenging, having sex later, very few people manage this on a random pass. It's not that I'm not willing, but, really, how often is it that the person who chats you up is someone who catches your imagination and has the follow through to make it happen? It turns out that it's pretty rare.

So, there are two versions of success here, and the first is easier. This is where you make your move, we have an enjoyable conversation, I feel pleased that you were interested enough to strike up a conversation and totally not skeeved out by the fact that you were invading my personal space, and, with any luck, you don't feel like I kicked you in the shins (or elsewhere) with a rude rejection.

In order for me not to feel skeeved out, there are a few things over which you don't have much control, and the main one is that you don't look like you're old enough to be my dad. I know there are lots of women who go for much older guys, but I get totally creeped out by that whole social phenomenon. If you're an older guy who's into younger women, you're just going to have to deal with some of the women you approach looking at you like you're creepy, because, well, that's what we think. Sorry.

Mostly, though, you do have control, but not in the moment, over a lot of the things that can put a big red X on my split-second impression of you: Have you showered recently? If you're sweaty from playing ball with your friends, that's one thing, but if you've been marinating for a couple of days and I can tell, you're not getting anywhere. Similarly, you don't have to look like you stepped out of GQ, but it'll help if you look relatively put-together. I don't mind if you're a carpenter and you're covered with sawdust, but I might mind if you get it all over my nice suit, so if your attire is very mismatched from mine, you'll get points if you show me you're aware of it.

But, really, assuming you shower regularly and know how to operate a toothbrush, most of what matters is in the interaction. How do you get my attention? Don't, for goodness sake, grab my elbow as I walk by you. Don't touch my hair; don't grab my ass. These are all obvious, right? And, yet, I've had men do all of the above. The best thing to do is to get my attention verbally. A witty comment can be entertaining, but, really, "Hello, my name is Joe," will also work. (Unless your name is Eric, in which case, it would be confusing for you to introduce yourself as Joe.) If we're in a loud venue, it's okay to touch me lightly in an "unloaded" way (shoulder, elbow) while also saying, "Excuse me."

Once you've started the conversation, you need to remember that you started it. Don't make me carry the whole thing, because if I'd been dying to have a conversation with a stranger, I'd've started one already, right? Have a few questions ready, or a quick story, or tell me why you're approaching me. What you say matters some, but, mostly, it's how you're interacting with me that will decide me in the next 30 seconds as to whether I want to keep talking to you. Do you look me in the eye? Do you pay attention to my body language? Do you carry yourself confidently but without taking up more space than you need to? These are all great things. On the other hand, if you move in too close, or if you're awkward, you're going to make me feel awkward, too.

Unfortunately, I don't have a quick run-down on how to read body language, but I'm going to do a bit of net searching in the next few days to see if I find anything quick and useful. The main thing to remember, though, is even if you think I'm hot, I'm just a regular person. Be complimentary but not fawning. Don't treat me like a bitch, a slut or a goddess. Think of me as, oh, I don't know, a person. No, really.

Gosh, this has gotten long. Tomorrow, I'll talk about what it takes to go from pickup to the bedroom with me.

Posted by ClueChick at 4:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Thanks, guys, for your comments on who you make passes at last week. I have a two-part response, the first, which I'll write here, is a bit more about why I was asking, and the second, which I'll write in the next day or two, will answer G's question as to how someone can successfully approach me.

The reason that I asked in the first place, though, is that I get hit on a lot, but I don't really understand why. I'm basically average in terms of attractiveness. Some people find me hot, others find me unattractive, and probably most people don't notice me much one way or the other. But still, I get a lot of pick-up attempts out in the world, which can be entertaining, flattering, disturbing and baffling.

So, I got to wondering if men know why they hit on particular women. Is it a conscious thing? "She's hot, and I'd like to get to know/do her." Or is it an unconscious thing, relating to how she looks, moves, smells, or whatever? What is it about me that means I get hit on when my friends don't?

The most compelling theory is that I smile a lot, and I make eye-contact with people on the street. This probably makes me seem approachable. Also, I have a pretty "wholesome" look, which may make me less intimidating. Still, that doesn't really explain the guy who asked me to join him for coffee after riding up an escalator in front of him (presumably, he liked my ass.)

This comes up now because of the experience I had on my recent vacation, where things were more blatant than usual, which is not uncommon in my experience of tropical vacationy places, and I actually got stopped on the street more than once by a man who wanted to offer me... well, I wasn't always sure, since I didn't speak the language. But still. Meanwhile, the friends I was with didn't have such a dramatically remarkable experience, which, as you might imagine, got me thinking.

All of that also reminds me that I haven't told you all about the hot fling I had on my vacation, either. It's proof that pickups can work. But I'll have to save that story for another post, too.

Posted by ClueChick at 10:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

I've been traveling a lot the past few weeks, which has occasioned spending more than my usual amount of time in airports, and, in particular, in the cafes and hangout spots of airports, waiting for my flight. This has given me an opportunity to observe airport pickup techniques, as well, and here's my conclusion:

The airport is not a good place to pick someone up. Okay, you want to kill some of your waiting time flirting with the cute chick sitting next to you? Great. But don't get invested. First off, no one hangs out at the airport for fun. We're all there because we're on our way somewhere or other, and we're probably cranky about not being there, yet, anyway. Then, of course, there's the fact that if you do hit it off, there's nowhere to go. Unless you're a same sex pairing, in which case, you can duck into the bahroom, airports provide painfully few options for a quickie. And, of course, you and the object of your lust are almost certainly headed in different directions.

On the other hand, flirting is a kick, and not a bad way to pass the time.

Posted by ClueChick at 2:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Although it's technically outside the realm of my original idea for this blog, you all may be subjected, in the next few days, to my glowing about my (first ever!) vacation hookup. But tonight, I'll have to do boring things like unpack.

Posted by ClueChick at 7:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I keep several lists:

First, there's the "top ten list," which rarely has ten people on it, but that's what I call it anyway. This is my most shallow and absurd list: These are the celebrities who are so damn hot that if the opportunity arose, I couldn't help but jump their bones, no matter how shitty their personalities or how completely dumb they are. I'm not proud of it, but there you have it. Though, to be fair, there are no Mel Gibsons or Tom Cruises on this list.

Second, there's the "free blow job" list. This one is probably the easiest list to get on, as all it takes is a good deed, a good joke, or a particularly brilliantly witty comment. This is a long list, but, so far, few of the people on it have taken me up on the offer.

Third, and more difficult to get on, is the list of men whose babies I would be willing to have. This is a very short list, currently consisting of three names, of men whose genetic contribution to the world (as judged by me, based on their genius in various realms) is important enough that, if it came to it, I'd be willing to propagate their genes. Note: this offer does not include the actual raising of said children.

Curiously, I mostly don't make lists of women. I seem only to be able to objectify men enough to make lists for them.

Posted by ClueChick at 10:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I can get off on namecalling in the right context. When things are loose and flowing in the bedroom, my lover can get away with calling me "slut," "bitch," or "baby". And my closest friends can get away with calling me those things just about anytime. But in the category of "holy shit the pain of the obvious," I'd like to point out that your initial email to me is not a good time to use any of these terms, or similar ones.

Another good time not to call me "slut" is when we first meet, unless you're using it in an obviously appreciative way. If you have even slightly negative feelings about slutty girls (but hope you're going to get some from one), keep your mouth shut.

Or don't. I've always wanted to throw a drink in my date's face, but I've never before had the opportunity handed to me.

Posted by ClueChick at 7:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

One of the (many) great things about the casual hookup, for me, is the opportunity to do things with a lover in an emotionally unloaded context. If you're anything like me on this point, you have sexual desires or interests that you want to play out but that are scarily revealing to ask of a regular lover or of someone who knows you or with whom you have an emotional entanglement. On the one hand, an emotional connection with a lover opens doors to a variety of activities that you couldn't do with a one night stand or a hoookup, but, on the other hand, that very openness closes doors to other avenues of exploration.

For me, historically, one of these has been exhibitionism. I know, it's probably surprising to all of you, who get to see me bare my slutty soul (or a portion of it, anyway), but I like to be watched.

...

Okay, maybe that's not surprising.

But, I have the damnedest time asking a lover to watch me get myself off, and it was only through super casual sex that I got to the point (now) where I can at least envision it. Why? Well, I assume my hangup has to do with feeling selfish, self-conscious, and certainly exposed, all of which are scarier with someone with whom I'm emotionally involved. Plus, I had this lover once who seemed to get bored when I was jilling off, which, no doubt, didn't help.

Just by chance, though, I recently had a hookup with a guy who first asked and then demanded that I get myself off while he watched. Now, sometimes that might be offputting, but in this case, it was just what I needed to convince me that, no, he really did want to watch me. And it has me thinking, hmm, maybe that means some other lovers would like to, too.

Now, no doubt some of you will write in saying, "Of course I like watching a woman get herself off! Have you never seen porn??" But the point here is that these hangups aren't always rational, and logic doesn't always shake them. But it turns out that a casual fuck can sometimes work wonders where wonders were never worked before.

Just as it is more convincing (though perhaps less meaningful) to be told I'm beautiful by a stranger than by my mother, hearing something from a casual sex partner can be more convincing, especially of a whole category, than someone who's invested in a sexual relationship with me.

Today, the casual lay; tomorrow, the regular lover.

Posted by ClueChick at 2:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

As I think you all know, I'm a big fan of the "friends with benefits" (FWB) arrangement. This is where the friendship doesn't depend on the sex in order to be friendly. In the best FWB, we can have sex without it making our friendship awkward or weird, and we can not have sex without it making things uncomfortable, either. To me, this is the ideal of comfort with sexuality and friendship.

Does this mean I have sex with all of my friends? Of course not. Despite the fact that I have the hottest friends ever, I don't want to sleep with all of them. In fact, at any moment, I may not want to sleep with any of them. But those people with whom I'm closest, or with whom I have the most potential for closeness, are those with whom sex isn't a barrier or a hurdle or a tool. These are people with whom I have a deep comfort and usually expect to continue that.

I like the fluidity of FWB, the appreciation of friendship and sex without obsession or fetishization of the sexual dynamic. It's easy and pleasing.

On the other hand, of course, when it goes badly, it's not just some quick lay who I can write off easily. Instead, if things go sour, the friendship suffers, so you don't just lose a fun lay but also a friend.

Still, in my experience, this is rare, if eveyone goes into the encounter openly and honestly acknowledging what's happening and what, fi any, expectations there are about the dynamic. If fyou can do that, it's certainly worth trying.

Posted by ClueChick at 9:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

On a whim, I recently painted my fingernails bright red. Normally, I'm more of a natural girl, and I don't bother with much in the way of makeup, but the nails are working for me, it turns out.

This has me thinking of the ways that trying on something out-of-our ordinary can help to move us into enjoying new things, or the same things in new ways.

I enjoy running my hand up my lover's thigh, but the bright red vampy nails add a whole additional level to that dynamic, and one I really didn't expect when I broke out the nail polish the other day.

The take-home lesson here, I think, is that it's good to shake things up, try new things, and do things in different-than-normal ways, because you never know what might surprise you delightfully.

Posted by ClueChick at 8:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Among the various warning flags I look for in early email exchanges with would-be lovers is the degree to which he seems to pay attention to what I say. I don't need a guy to remember that I said my cat was being fussy last night, but I do need him to remember that I said I don't like to be called "baby".

I don't know if it's true or not that a guy who can't be bothered to learn my preferences early on will be a guy who ignores my desires if it gets that far, but that's my working assumption, regardless. It's a bad sign if he's too hot to get his rocks off to realize that if he's not jerking himself off, it means there's another person in the equation.

I recently had an IM conversation with a guy who wanted to know when he could come over and get a blow job. Now, I like blow jobs as much as the next girl, maybe more, depending on who's next to me, and I can certainly enjoy the afternoon quickie, but I wasn't into it that day, and we hadn't met. I explained that I'd rather meet somewhere public, and he continued as though I hadn't said a thing. He could be here in an hour, he cajoled. When I demurred, he had nothing to offer but more insistence that I should say yes. Had he paid attention enough to know what I was saying, he could well have talked me into meeting him at the bar around the corner and, if all went well, a quickie after the fact.

But, no. Just as well; he sounds like a lazy lay, doesn't he?

Posted by ClueChick at 10:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Well, that'll show me to talk about the details of sex! I had several comments, both public and private, telling me that you can, in fact, have anal sex without using lube. I'll rephrase my advice to say that you cannot have anal sex with me without lube, and if you're trying it for the first time with anyone, I strongly suggest that you use lube, and lots of it.

But that all just goes to show that there's a wide variety of experience, and what I say is, after all, only one perspective.

I also had one person comment asking for more details: what does anal sex feel like for a woman? Well, guys, here's the great thing about anal sex: you can find out! Since we all are ass-enabled, you, too, can give this particular specialty a try. I understand, in fact, that it's even better for guys because of the prostate. Lucky bastards.

I probably won't tell you what it's like for me, though, because I suck at writing anything that smacks of porn, and certainly getting into the details of, "And then when he slides his finger in..." counts as smacking of porn, I get all flustered and feel like I sound cheesy and ridiculous and then I have to go out and pick up some guy to blow so I can block the traumatic experience out of my mind. So I'll just skip the trauma and go right for picking up a guy, okay?

Posted by ClueChick at 5:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Yesterday was ass day here in Cluechickland: I had some friends over, and they gave me the fantastic compliment of saying that I have the Platonic ideal of an ass. Nothing makes me happy like ridiculously overstated compliments, so, naturally, I had to buy them all drinks. It was a blast. And in the afternoon, one of my favorite lovers, a fellow who responded to my very first CL ad, ever, came over and we had a great date, focusing on (as you might have guessed) anal sex.

Anal sex is the new big thing, apparently, and every third guy posting on CL seems to be looking to get some. Although what I'm about to tell you won't necessarily help you get to the point where you get to try it, I hope it will help you should you manage to get to that point on your own:

Anal sex is not like vaginal sex. The primary way this comes into play is that you're probably accustomed to, when a woman is turned on from lots of hot foreplay, putting on a condom and going to town. That's great for vaginal sex, but you're missing a couple of crucial steps when it comes to anal sex:

First, lube. Buy it, use it, love it. Anal sex is probably possible without it, but it would be excruciating. Don't do it.

Second, and equally important, warmup. Unlike a cunt, which is designed for penis-sized and -shaped objects to enter it, the ass is pretty much geared to expell somewhat more malleable objects.

I can't tell you how many of my hookups have involved a lot of fun fucking only to be followed by a clumsy and inexpert attempt to switch from one orifice to another. This is not the way to go about it. If you're among the hordes of people wanting to try anal sex, or who've tried it an want to do more of it, you need to make sure your partner is interested, and then you've got to approach it like a project. A fun project, but a project nonetheless.

Yesterday's fuck fuck pal is the first guy in ages who knew what he was doing, and I was reminded that, in fact, I like anal sex, when it's done right. You don't have to be an expert, but you should at least know the basics of the anatomy involved. Otherwise, you risk your one shot being your only shot.

Of course, I know lots of you would also like me to point out that anal sex is one of the fun ways for men and women to play with the boy getting penetrated. That's another fun thing about it! If you want that kind of hookup, bring your own toy, or be sure your lover has something appropriate.

And always remember: Lube. Warmup. It's worth it.

Also, it doesn't hurt to put down a towel.

Posted by ClueChick at 1:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I recently had this IM conversation with a would-be paramour:

thecluechick: so tell me what you like
[insert flirtatious conversation here]
dud(e): and i like to cum on a girls clit
dud(e): and then rub it around on her and in her
thecluechick: um. seriously?
dud(e): yeah, its so hot
thecluechick: well, you won't be doing that with me, because I don't want to get pregnant
dud(e): lol
dud(e): you cant get pregnant from that
thecluechick: Er. Yes, you can. Well, one can. [You can tell I'm no longer flirting when I start capitalizing and punctuating.]
dud(e): once it hits the air, nothing can happen, so as long as I cum outside first, its ok
thecluechick: Where did you learn this? Because it's totally wrong.
dud(e): in school
thecluechick: Shitty school!
dud(e): and my doctor too
thecluechick: Really? You should sue your doctor. That's wildly dangerous disinformation. Not only can you get someone pregnant that way, but there's also a high risk of STD transmission.
dud(e): i don't think so
thecluechick: You should do some research before you run around doing this with just anyone. Also, we won't be getting together.

People, really. I figure this guy made up the part about his doctor telling him that was okay because he thought I would chill out about it if a doctor had given it the thumbs up. That's sleazy and lame, but I'm more concerned about the vast lack of knowledge here. If you're going to fuck around, get your ducks in a row, and know what risks you're taking for yourself and your partners. Take responsibility for yourself by asking questions, demanding protection at a level that suits your comfort, and getting STD tests on a regular basis. And, for god's sake, please, please read up on what the risks are.

Don't be a dud.

Posted by ClueChick at 8:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

A while back, Sapiophile asked for an update on my love and sex life. So, let me give you a quick rundown:

I had a kickass date the other night, which resulted in some fun sex, but I've decided I don't want to see the guy again; I wonder if I've become unreasonably addicted to the thrill of the first date, per my post the other day.

I have a couple of friends who I have sex with when the opportunity arises, most often, so far, at parties, which is, of course, fun, though I'm looking forward to getting together in private sometime soon, because fucking around is always different in private vs. at parties.

And though Mr. The View and I haven't been able to get together recently, we keep in touch with high hopes for hooking up again. We seem rarely to be in town at the same time.

In more serious news, I keep saying I think I want to start dating more seriously, and while intellectually, I think that's true, in practice, whenever something starts to move that way, I find myself shying away from it, so it would seem I'm not quite there these days. Maybe in the fall, or if someone awesome and hot falls into my lap.

Speaking of which, I'm enjoying a vaguely flirtatious email exchange with a long-time crush object (hi, F!), but he is, sadly, in the wrong city (or I am).

And that's pretty much all the news in my love and sex life, I think.

Posted by ClueChick at 11:57 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Damn, I almost forgot about you guys tonight! I met a new boy this evening, and he did several things right! It's so great:

First, his initial email was, obviously, good: He told me a bit about himself, what he was looking for, and why he liked my ad. He included a clear picture of himself that left some things to the imagination. Then, when I responded to his email, he answered all my questions, had a couple of his own, and told me more about himself.

After a few back-and-forths, I decided I'd be up for meeting him, so we set up a time this afternoon. I gave him my phone number in case of last minute changes, and when he got stuck in traffic, he called to let me know he'd be a bit late. When he showed up, he looked like his picture, was apologetic about being late, and we had a very pleasant conversation. At the end of the conversation, he made it clear that he'd like to get together again without being pushy or demanding about it. Then he gave me a very nice kiss.

Just now, he sent me an email to reiterate his enjoyment of the date and that he looks forward to seeing me.

It's all vaguely like looking for a job, somehow, what with the application, interview, and followup, and yet, his doing all these things totally makes me want to do this guy just to reward good behavior. Man, it's nice to see someone do it right for a change!

Posted by ClueChick at 10:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I am having the most frustrating IM conversation ever. This guy responded to an ad I posted, and I wrote back asking him to tell me more about himself. He offered me his IM handle with the promise that he'd be happy to talk to me in chat.

Great! I thought. This is a handy, fast way to get the sense of someone, assuming I have the time for it, which, naturally, I don't always. But it can be good for finding out how someone interacts in a slightly more real-time setting.

In this case, however, at every opportunity to share information about himself, this guy dodged the question, sometimes direct, sometimes implied, and then would talk about something irrelevant for a few lines, and then would say something like, "But tell me about you! I don't like to talk too much."

Boooring! If you want the conversation to go a different way, ask a question. If you're not interested in the questions that someone is asking you, dodging them is okay, but if you dodge every one of their questions, they're going to suspect that you're doing it on purpose. And, in the case of this person being a woman evaluating if she wants to fuck you, it's possible, just possible, that she's asking questions that she needs answered in order to make that decision. Dodging the question in lieu of giving the wrong answer is a fine thing to do once, but if that's your entire conversational strategy, it's unlikely to get you laid.

it certainly won't get you into my pants.

Posted by ClueChick at 10:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I was thinking today, as I was avoiding doing my paying job, that I don't think I've talked about how it is I discovered the Casual Encounters section of Craig's List in the first place. Back in the day, of course, I was as sweet and innocent as... well, okay, even then I wasn't exactly sweet and innocent, but I had been dating the same person for ages and really wasn't interested in casual sex because I was sure it just wasn't for me.

One of my friends -- you all know her, in fact, as it's the one and only sapiophile -- told me about the CE section in a somewhat disbelieving voice. I was amazed and delighted to hear of such a thing, but I was also confused. Could there possibly be, I wondered, enough people who look for that sort of thing to support a whole section on Craig's List? I looked, and by gum, there certainly was.

Satisfied with my sociological discovery, carried on with my life.

Some months later, I had my first one night stand, completely spontaneously and somewhat by accident (I would have seen him again, though if I'd known then what I know now, I wouldn't have been willing to), and I really enjoyed it. By then, I was single and had no desire to be dating, but I suddenly saw the light with regards to casual sex. Well, thought I, OkCupid delivered the first one, but how do I find more of these guys? (Have I told you all about my first one night stand? I don't remember.)

Then I remembered some vague memory about Craig's List, a sociological discovery, and bafflement at people who would look for this very thing.

Aren't I lucky that someone else thought of it before I did, so all I had to do was sign on?

Posted by ClueChick at 9:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I had a new-to-me experience in meeting people online last week: I met someone I already know.

It's a little surprising, actually, that in the course of more than a year of fairly actively pursuing hookups, this is the first time I've had someone I know (and have flirted with) answer my ad. Actually, that may not be true, because I didn't recognize his email