Oh, girls and boys. No one likes to indulge in good old fashioned ~dirty talk~ like yours truly.
Iām aware of what a wildly narcissistic and presumptuous statement that is to recklessly toss out on the Internet, but I feel the need to amp up the drama to truly express to you just HOW MUCH this nice Jewish girl from the Upper East Side of Manhattan adores her dirty talk.
Iām just a total kinky bitch. I was born with an irrepressible, magnetic draw to the dark side. I used to steal 1980ās erotic fiction novels from my parentās library and devour them with wide prepubescent eyes whilst tucked beneath the covers of my frilly little bed, flashlight in hand. I snuck into isolated corners of the public library and speed-read all the pervy Judy Blume teen novels, usually just skipping to the sex scenes.
Iāve been a sexually charged girl creature since early childhood, and nothing has changed.
Iād always felt good about sex until 1998. I bore a slutty reputation in the seventh grade because of a girl-hating 12-year-old f*ckboy-in-training named Max*.
Max decided to deem me a āslutā because I went to second base with his best friend during a heated game of Seven Minutes in Heaven. He decided to destroy the end of my middle school experience by telling the entire school I was a big, bad, dirty slut. (I think he was just pissed I didnāt let him touch me, but who the hell really knows anything about the dark intentions of middle school f*ckboys?)
āSlutā is a hard reputation to shake in those terrible tween years. All of my other identities ā actress, collector of Sketcher platform sneakers ā melted away, and all that remained was SLUT. It f*cking sucked. I cried all the time. I spent lunch, my favorite time of day, stuck in the library with the rest of the bullied kids, tearing through books at the alarming rate only lonely adolescents and anti-social adults can achieve.
Then, when I was 23 or 24, I met a girl I really liked. We had the kind of sexual chemistry I had only read about in books. She was a decade older and far more sexually advanced than baby lesbian Z. One evening, we were twisted beneath the sheets, getting it on. Things were getting hotter and hotter untilā¦ she whispered āslutā breathlessly into my ear.
You know what the weird thing was? That exceptionally loaded four-letter word that had screwed up the late ā90s for me was suddenly a crazy turn-on. I couldnāt get enough. At first, I had a heated inner debate between my libido and brain.
Brain: Thatās a horrible word! How dare she!
Libido: CALL ME A SLUT AGAIN, BABY!
Libido won the race.
The f*ckboys had called me a slut against my will, but now my hot grown-up girlfriend was calling me a slut in the bedroom, a place where I had only felt safety and pleasure. I was able to take back that word and reclaim it for myself.
And thatās when I first discovered the empowering, reparative experience of dirty talk.
However, dirty talk is a delicate dance to dabble in. Dirty talk can elevate your sexual experiences to shocking, new heights, or leave you burning in a sea of scalding hot water.
Which is why I decided to create a brief dirty talk etiquette guide to help you and your partner navigate the complexities of the ~dirty talk~.
My girlfriend might have called me a āslutā without asking my permission first, and I might have liked it (ha! loved it!), but that was some dumb luck. Never, ever call anyone a āslutā or a āwhoreā until you know itās cool with him or her. Everyone has different triggers, and youāre playing with fire by recklessly tossing those words out in the bedroom.
In fact, before you even get into the dirty talk, have a friendly discussion with your partner about what your boundaries are.
Bonus: These convos will make you have a stronger, more communicative partnership. Once you can talk about sex freely, you can talk about anything.
Let go of the stigma, baby.
OK, so I just told you that I like to be called a āslut.ā However, letās say you care for me and donāt want to call me that lewd word because you donāt want to āobjectifyā me. You respect me.
If I tell you I like to be called a āslut,ā please donāt feel guilty on my behalf. Part of respecting me is trusting that I, as a grown woman, know what my turn-ons are.
It doesnāt make anyone a bad feminist to enjoy being called a slut (0r a bitch, or a whore, or whatever!). In fact, itās incredibly sex-positive to turn a negative word into a positive one. Dirty talk can help heal bad memories because it redefines the negative feelings weāve attached to these words.
So, let go of that stigma. Remember that anything that happens between two consenting adults is never āwrong.ā
Get down with your bad self, baby. As long as youāre safe, set clear boundaries and trust your partner, the bedroom is your oyster.
Try not to laugh, even if your partner says something dumb.
Weāre all incredibly vulnerable when weāre having sex. Throw dirty talk into the sex mix, and weāre extra vulnerable. I mean, youāre tapping into some deep-rooted fantasies that you and your partner might have felt ashamed for even having, let alone acting out.
Itās inevitable that, at some point, your partner will say something nonsensical, absurd or just so damn cheesy it makes you want to burst out laughing mid blow-jay. Experimentation will always come with some fails.
But please, please, DEAR GOD, try not to laugh or humiliate your partner when he or she gets it wrong. In order for your dirty talk life to truly thrive, you need to create a safe environment where your partner feels free to try things without being shamed.
Trust me, I KNOW itās hard, girl. I have literally bitten a pillowcase so hard Iāve left teeth marks because Iāve needed to hold back hysterical laughter. But alas, itās what we must do to protect the fragile, vulnerable egos of our precious lovers.
Commitment is everything.
Confidence is half the battle.
If youāre going to dirty talk, commit, darling, c-o-m-m-i-t. Go in full throttle. Nothing is worse than half-assed stabs at anything, especially sex.
Get used to saying lewd words before you try them out in bed.
Look, Iām an English rose. Seriously. I know this is hard for you to imagine as Iāve been divulging my sex life online for a while now, but I was actually raised prim and proper. I might lay it all out online, but Iām surprisingly posh and British in my day-to-day life. It was hard for me to say words like āslut,ā āp*ssyā and ābitchā by myself, let alone during a vulnerable bout of sexual intercourse.
So, at first, I practiced twisting my lips around these forbidden words in the safety of my bedroom. It was like how I practiced speaking French before going to France. I felt heaps of guilt and shame, but the more I practiced, the more normal it became.
And as soon as I became comfortable hearing the sound ās-l-u-tā releasing from my proper British lips, I was able to fully commit to using them in the bedroom.
Important to note: DO NOT practice using these words at work, at home or at a dinner party. Practice with your partner, by yourself or with a fellow pervy friend in the same boat.
The Golden Rule: When in doubt, just describe whatās happening.
OK, so youāre tongue-tied, sister? I get it. I spend most of my life tongue-tied, which is why I write so goddamn much.
Donāt force twisted, sensationalized words out of your mouth if youāre feeling like a shy kitten. I spend most of my life feeling shy. Which is why Iām a big fan of simply describing whatās happening.
It can be as simple as āIām going to go down on you right now, babe.ā or āI love feeling your mouth against my body.ā Donāt let dirty talk in porn scare you into thinking it always has to be extreme and vulgar. It totally can be, but it doesnāt have to be.
Also, remember that moaning, loud panting and irrepressible screams of delight are all dirty talk, too. Donāt push yourself into the āf*ck me now, you filthy slutā if thatās not your thing. Anything is fine. Thatās the beauty of sex.
We all get turned on by different things, and weāre all awesome adults who can set our own firm boundaries.
*Name has been changed