No other subject elicits more visceral and varied responses than sexuality. One would be hard pressed to find any two people who have uniform sexual preferences, desires, and turn-offs. Yet, so many people are scrutinized for what they enjoy between the sheets. Why? Why has sexuality always been something thought of as “dirty” or “obligatory”, to be kept in the dark and not spoken of?
The Sirens are here to say “not today” to all that bullshit, and to share our own sexual experiences, preferences, and “deep,” “dirty” secrets. To protect the minds of our not-quite-so-totally-open families, we’ve all chosen pseudonyms. The names may be different, but this is us– fully and authentically. None of what you are about to read are experiences and desires that shame us. We are sexual, non-sexual, single, married, straight, queer, experienced, virginal, kinky, traditional, and everything in between. These are our truths.
Status: Straight, married, mother
Sexual partners: Four
I lost my virginity at 16 to my high school boyfriend and have thoroughly enjoyed sex ever since. Other than a year-long drought when I was 18 or 19, I’ve had a consistently sexually active life. Since I’ve been with my husband for many years now, most of that time was spent having sex with him. I imagine a lot of people will likely assume that after such a long time together, we have very infrequent, “vanilla” sex. They would be wrong.
While we don’t have sex every night of the week by any means, it happens often and, believe it or not, throughout our years together, it has only gotten hotter. I have always liked some light kink, and when my husband and I first got together, my sexual preferences were not something he had yet encountered. It took us a little while to find the groove with each other, but he was an eager participant from the start. Our sex now is the culmination of all those years learning and exploring each other’s likes and dislikes. Our sex now is a knee-shaking, mind-blowing, earth-shattering experience that leaves us in breathless, melted puddles; tangled up in each other and the residual effects of our physical chemistry.
Being with a person for so long gives one the freedom of familiarity. There is no judgment on either part when I beg him to fuck me harder, faster, deeper; or when he pulls my hair hard and thrusts himself even deeper inside me, while slapping my ass as he pounds into me from behind. When he chokes me while we both orgasm together, there is only pleasure, no hesitation or trepidation that he has crossed the line. He knows he hasn’t, because of the noises I make when he does it. He knows I go crazy when he pins me up against the wall, and takes complete control; and he loves it when I have my turn, too, and straddle him and ride us both to climax.
My life thus far has included only male sexual partners, but I would never discount experimenting outside of my hetero bubble. We’ve discussed exploring swinging and even MMF or MFF at some point. Not because we don’t find satisfaction in each other, but because we like the idea of finding new and exciting pleasure to share together.
I am of the belief that, as long as each party consents, what happens in the bedroom (or shower, or living room, or hot tub, or kitchen counter, or washing machine– you know, wherever) should be a personal choice, free of judgment from others, including WHOM they choose to have sex with. If you find yourself having a problem with that concept, perhaps it is because you yourself need to get fucked. And I don’t mean that figuratively— seriously, get fucked. A great fuck can ease your stress and tension and boost your confidence. Nothing makes me feel more powerful than hearing my husband moan and gasp as my mouth and hands work his body, and vice versa. It is a sensation unlike any other to make someone feel such pleasure.
To summarize, I like sex a whole lot. But I appreciate fully that, not only does everyone not even enjoy sex, some like it much differently than I do, and prefer a different kind of partner. I don’t give a damn about any of that, as long as consent is always a part of the equation.
Fuck and be fucked, friends; life is really short, spend it having good sex.
Status: Kink-loving, queer, feminist
Sexual partners: More than some, less than others
I used to have a complicated relationship with my sexuality. I’ve always been attracted to women, even before I knew I liked men I was daydreaming about women. My very first crush was a girl named Jennifer in grade one. She was so kind to everyone, even the bullies, and was incredibly smart. One day she gave me a bracelet made of dandelions, and I remember feeling singled out and special. To this day I wonder if my interest in smart blondes with friendly smiles is because of her. Even at that young age, I knew that what I felt wasn’t what I was “supposed” to feel. Early attempts at talking with my family about liking girls would always result in a dismissive “oh you just want to be like her”. Quite often the follow up question would be “so what boy do you really have a crush on?” Afraid of my family’s reaction, I didn’t explore this side of my sexuality until much later in life. I dated a girl in high school, but the relationship ended when I was too afraid to come out. My other relationships with women have ended much the same way – me being too worried about my family’s or employer’s reactions to hold her hand in daylight, and her (quite understandably) ending the relationship as a result. I came out of the closet after the birth of my son, and haven’t quite gained the confidence to talk to girls again just yet. As a result, most of my major relationships have been with men or male-identifying individuals.
My first real crush on a boy didn’t happen until I was almost ten. I lied to my parents about crushes until grade four or five. Instead of telling them who I really had a crush on, I’d pick a boy I wanted to be friends with and gave them his name instead. But I didn’t feel any attraction to men until I opened an album cover and saw a grainy photo of the album’s artist. I’ve been attracted to an equal number of men and women since then.
Discovering what I liked sexually was another interesting adventure. As a rule, I am completely uncomfortable with being touched. Even in infancy I would cringe when people held me. This makes finding an intimate partner, and engaging in sex itself, slightly challenging. When I was younger I would find ways to overcome the intense discomfort, but as I got older I figured out ways to determine if a touch would feel toxic or not. In addition, I’ve always been an ardent feminist; a huge supporter of women’s autonomy and independence from men. Violence against women offends me on a deeply personal level, and the thought of somebody telling me what to do makes me want to vomit. I also love kinky sex – rough, CONSENSUAL, kinky sex. Getting to a point where I can acknowledge this was difficult. At 14 , I discovered masturbation. More specifically, I discovered that I could make myself feel way better than my then-boyfriend. I knew what fantasies turned me on and which didn’t, and I was comfortable with my body and my interests. All this changed when I was in my early 20s. A so-called friend raped me, with my interest in kink used against me by my rapist and some of the people I confided in. Reconciling all these facts was a hard, hard task. It honestly wasn’t until a year or so ago that I was able to fully embrace my BDSM-loving ways. A former partner of mine was a “try anything once and see if I like it” type of person, and after he told me about his kinks I told him about mine. His openness about exploring mine, his complete lack of judgement, and his focus on consent-based sexual exploration, helped me embrace it. The best sex of my life happens when I embrace the kink and let go of my reservations with a sexual partner (of any gender) I can trust.
TL;DR: My sexual motto: “spank or be spanked – just do so with consent”
Status: Single, queer, and cool with it all
Sexual partners: Countless digital conquests, and a few in the flesh
I’ve never been in love – not really. In high school, I think I came close and then again when I met up with him years later. Sexually, he was my first. But as fate would have it, we ended up just being good friends on separate journeys. We were both queer and then he became a she, an activist and warrior for the LGBTQ community. At first, I wasn’t sure how to feel about her transition, but then I quickly realized that my feelings weren’t important – she was happy and she was still the person who had been my friend, and sometimes lover, since high school. I couldn’t be more proud of the person she has become and she will always possess that little piece of my heart as the closest I have ever come to loving someone.
Of course, love and sex are two completely different things. I’m attracted to men and women although I’ve never actually dated or slept with a woman (in real life – you’ll understand that later) and I can count the number of men I’ve dated on one hand. I tend to be a solitary person – happier alone. I don’t say this to elicit any sort of sympathy since that tends to be the knee-jerk reaction from people when I say I don’t date. I am genuinely content being alone. The idea of dating just gives me anxiety and I can feel the walls start closing in. I don’t feel the need to get married or have babies (my sister was gracious enough to carry forth the family gene pool). Nor do I feel the need to hold anyone’s hand in my golden years – I generally don’t like being touched.
You must be asking yourself how I don’t go crazy from lack of sexual stimulation. Luckily, in the age of technology, people like me don’t have to go without sexually. We live in a world where the internet rules – and the internet just oozes sex. You have so much to explore online from basic porn to cams, full 3d sex games, chats, and virtual reality. Personally, I don’t do cams – it’s just not my kink. Porn, particularly straight porn, is too staged and predictable (guy goes down on girl, guy and girl have sex in various positions, girl gets on knees and blows guy until guy cums on her face) – boring. I prefer more creative mediums.
Erotica is one of my favorite sexual outlets. It’s true what they say, you know; if a woman’s mind and imagination are stimulated, she’s already halfway to orgasm. My Kindle is a bastion of smut of all varieties – straight sex, lesbian, group sex, swinger sex, futa, and even fantasy-based erotica featuring elves, demons, werewolves, and ghosts. Erotica offers up scenarios that allow you to visualize characters the way you want without any fake tans, fake boobs, and horrifically awkward sex faces.
You have to keep in mind, if you’re getting erotica from Amazon, there can be a definite quality issue; it’s not always well written and more often than not, in desperate need of a good editor to correct the many spelling and grammar errors. You can occasionally find an author who can turn a phrase while turning you on, but even then you’ll sometimes find their work also becomes repetitive. If you’re thinking about checking out some Kindle erotica, be sure you read the story summary before downloading; the quality of that snippet will indicate the quality of the story and it can be really hard to get off when the author doesn’t know when to use “their, they’re and there.”
Then there’s virtual sex – it’s fun, freeing, and interactive. There are a few avenues you can take for your digital sexcapades; my personal preference is Second Life. I have two separate existences in SL; an avatar I use to hang out with friends, explore, and goof off, and another I use for purely sexual purposes. If you’re unfamiliar with Second Life, it’s an online virtual world that features user created content. It’s not really a game in the traditional sense so much as a social platform. You sign up, create an avatar, customize it however you want, and explore the endless worlds (or sims, as they’re called). A huge component of SL has always been sex. With more than 800,000 monthly users, a large portion of those have some sort of sexual encounters in SL. There are different sims in SL that cater to different kinks. If you’re into vampires, there’s a space. Werewolves? Done. Furries? Yup. If you’re into role play, you can find Dark Urban sims where you can be a prostitute or a drug Kingpin, adult sci-fi sims where you can be an android or a sexy space pirate, and medieval sims that allow you to play ladies, lords, whores, and rakes. The communities tend to be LGBTQ-friendly, polyamorous, and always DTF.
When I’m getting my kink on in SL, I don’t voice with other people and, as I said earlier, I don’t cam and I don’t share pictures of myself. Guys will send me the occasional dick pic but I simply decline the picture (without having to see it) and either block the user or just refuse to hook up with him. I like to keep a firm wall between real life and my online sexual exploits.
Keeping the encounters text-based is like an extension of erotica or sexual improv; I’m able to weave an erotic story with another player while our avatars go at each other. Much like Kindle, you will find the occasional dud in Second Life, someone whose grammar is so terrible that it’s less of a turn on and more of a reenactment of bad internet porn. But you can also find people who can make your panties wet with a short paragraph of well crafted words – those are the ones you keep around as regular digital fuck buddies and fellow erotic adventurers. Together, we’ve participated in orgies, lesbian sex and threesomes. I’ve had sex with a minotaur in a medieval land, a tentacled alien on a space station, and with anonymous strangers in a darkened alley. I’ve played spin the bottle with multiple partners in a voyeuristic motel as people openly had sex around us, been tied to a cross while several different men and women had their way with me, and masturbated with strangers in an ancient temple Grecian temple.
The best part about virtual sex is that it is consequence-free – I don’t have to ask if he has protection when the mood strikes because unwanted pregnancy and STDs are a non-issue. Second Life lets you live out some of your wildest fantasies from the safety of your own little corner of the world and with virtual reality on the rise, digital sex is only going to get better.
Status: Single, straight- but hella curious
Sexual partners: 2 physically and more than I can remember digitally
I don’t have a clue what drove me to try it, but it was a simple hairbrush that introduced me to the “oh my god what is that wetness between my legs?” and I haven’t looked back. I actually still have that hairbrush (it’s clean, I promise) as a memento of the discovery of my vagina. Since then, though, I’ve moved onto bigger and buzzier things, and truth be told, I’m so much better solo than with a man. I’ve yet to be with a woman… but never say never, right? Sometimes I fantasize about hopping onto Tinder and finding a woman out there to show me the ropes, if I’m missing anything by not being tribbed into oblivion. I chock that lack of sexual exploration up to simply being afraid; there are so many weird, creepy, dangerous and STD-ridden people out there, a random hookup with a man (or a woman) sounds like a bad idea. It’s also a fun, freeing, satisfying idea, but a dangerous one nonetheless. It comes down to trust. If I knew someone close who would trust me, and I in her, then let’s give it a go. We’re both adults so if things get weird, we stop and pop open a bottle of cheap wine and a pack of new batteries to finish the job ourselves. If I need something to get me going, I’ve got the usual list of suspects that are safely stored in my spank bank, but sometimes flipping through lesbian porn will rev the engine up even more. It’s sensual, hot, and usually doesn’t involve a woman getting cum shot all over her face, something I personally find degrading. Women, in good porn, take their time and don’t go straight for the good parts. It’s intense and emotional, not just a bang sesh that takes two minutes, filled with cheesy lines. Porn can be a great tool, but there’s just so much out there, that by the time you find something good the moment is gone. I find the thought of a woman between my legs licking me up and down an instant, and ferociously hot, turn-on and that’s a beautiful thing. At the same time though, the thought of a man pinning me to the bed, taking control and making every muscle in my body seize up has me sitting in a puddle right now. I don’t care who is down there, so long as it’s mutual, fun, freeing and deep.
For many years I would go online for my sexual satisfactions, and that really kicked into high gear around the age of 15. The internet was still young and fairly “small” so it was easy to find the right places to go to get exactly what you wanted. Chat programs, camming with strangers across the world, moaning on a microphone (and trying to keep quiet enough that my parents didn’t hear), it was the way I was able to express myself without having to physically expose myself. Living at home as a horny teenager and then 20-something was difficult, but I found that my car’s back seat was a great place to run to in the middle of the night, moaning as loudly as I wanted to without fear of being caught. Retrospect is kind of a funny thing; now that I’m older, the thought of getting caught is hot. Not getting caught by family members, as that may rocket me into abstinence forever, but getting-fucked-in-a -bar-bathroom kind of caught.
Eventually I discovered Second Life, just like Rose, and that turned into a fantastic playground for figuring out who and what I liked. Any man or woman was game… any age, any location, any appearance. Hell, at one point, I fell in love with someone on SL, where it went beyond the sexual pleasures we were able to give each other, and into an emotional realm I hadn’t experienced until then. I found out months later that I was just one notch on the bedpost and, while it stung, it was easier to move on from my digital attachment than previous real life crushes. I’d run around “the grid” to all the dirty places, finding someone who I found intellectually stimulating (you’re given a space for a profile for your avatar, and you can read a lot from what a person types about themselves) and find my way into their digital pants. They’d tell me to do things to myself I hadn’t thought of before (or was too scared to try), and by God, it was amazing. The discovery of pinching, pulling, twisting, rubbing, biting, different positions and toys opened a whole new world. Masturbation became hotter, and I finally experienced a full-blown-bedsheet-destroying orgasm thanks to a long time sexual partner in crime on SL. I’d be brave enough to give some of my SL adventures my phone number, prompting both parties to send dirty pics and texts at all hours of the day. If you think the satisfaction of getting a bunch of likes on your funny Facebook post is great, imagine knowing there is a random person out there right now, at their workplace thinking about you and getting the biggest hard-on, daring you to send a wet panty pic right back at them. It’s exhilarating, and I think even more so because you can keep it anonymous. You can push the limits, because if it goes wrong, what do you have to lose? You send them a winky face, say thanks for the fuck and move on. It happens quite a lot on SL, because sometimes you just need a lap to hop on. At one point I met a man who was less than a 2 hour drive from me. He’d send me sweet words, things that made my knees weak and my panties drenched, and I always wondered if I could make the drive up to meet him for just one night. I never did, and he lives further away from me now that a hook-up doesn’t seem plausible… but the option is always there. For us, it isn’t about the physical attraction, but the hot imagination we share about him fucking me on his desk while he’s on a conference call. The imagination is the ultimate tool, and sex is nothing without it. And sometimes you… just… need… laid. Period.
I was 27 when I lost my virginity. Guys never really had an interest in boning me, or I just never noticed that they did. I threw myself on one of my friends one night at the bar, and he’s a good enough guy that he didn’t take advantage, but that was as close as I ever got to losing my virginity before my first real relationship. I kept it in my head that I needed to save myself for the right man, and when he came (ha) along, I’d know. I was wrong in the long run, but at least the bullshit pressure to not be a virgin is gone. Ladies, don’t be pressured and don’t be ashamed. Fuck any and everyone who gives you shit for keeping your legs together. It’s hard being a punchline (I’d know), so don’t let them mold you into one. Funnily enough, it was a night of feisty self pleasure that popped my cherry, so I lost my virginity to myself. Suck on that, hymen! When my first sexual encounter happened, I wasn’t really impressed. He knew what I liked but was kind of afraid to venture into the arena. Smack my ass, and you better leave a handprint. Dig your nails into my thighs and back until I curl my toes right off of my feet. Bite me hard enough to almost leave a mark. I had so many suggestions, and the complied with a few, but ultimately wasn’t one to go for it. It was very vanilla and I truthfully never actually came any of the times we got naked. While it was my first time getting laid, I was vividly aware that the sex was bad. I faked it pretty much every time we got it on, and I knew that’s cruel, but I just couldn’t tell him the truth. He was the type of person who took criticism like it was the end of world. It was through that experience that I learned a few things; first of all, communication and trust are key. I was in love but it was dull, even from the first time. There’s no room for literally bending over and taking it, then not sharing with your partner that it just didn’t work for you. It’s not entirely on him, no doubt, but I’d much rather fly solo. My second partner was so, so much better, but still a bit lacking. A magician with his hands, and he always listened to what I did or didn’t like, but penetration was just… not there. These things take time, and I didn’t have a lot of time with either guy to iron it all out, but maybe that’s for the best. At this point I guess I’m still waiting for that mind-melting fuck that you can’t wait to spill to your closest friends about, and I hope one day to understand what my friends are talking about.
I’m still looking for that connection, that one man who can let me be me, and he can be who he is. Here are my kinks, flaws, fantasies and wobbly bits… I want all of his in return. We can do anything anywhere and feel closer than we did before. I can’t wait to find it, to be honest. I crave that connection and while I’m a pretty patient woman, I’m ready. Body and soul, I’m ready. Until I find him though, I’ve got a pretty hefty stock of rechargeable batteries and a filthy mind that I will never, ever clean up.
Status: Single, sexually fluid, and probably horny
Sexual partners: Zilch, for now…
You know what really grinds my gears? The fact that somewhere along the line, the word virgin got lumped in with the word prude! So let’s rectify that misconception, right here, right now. For the record, just because no one else has had the pleasure of my cookies (and believe me, it would be a pleasure), doesn’t mean I myself haven’t sneaked a nibble or two from the jar… or five… or ten. Fuck it, I empty the damn jar from time to time. Let’s be clear here, I am a very sexual being… I just haven’t actually had sex yet. Major emphasis on the yet. As the only virgin left in my large pool of siblings, my sex-less status has been placed on a pedestal for way too damn long, and believe me, it’s incredibly annoying. I think my family believes that I’m making a conscious choice to abstain. For god, for country, for my father’s sanity. Yeah….no. The truth is, if my family knew how I spent the bulk of my free time, they wouldn’t be so sure about my purity. I’ll give you one guess.
Porn. Porn, porn, porn porn porn. Oh, how I overindulge on thee, porn. Lesbian porn, straight porn, gay porn, you name it. I mean, that is what they say the internet is for, right? I’ll be the first to admit that I watch an exorbitant amount of porn. It started when I was about 12, when I stumbled across an HBO showing of Best Sex Ever at 2 in the morning. And, of course, it didn’t take long for me to graduate from softcore primetime to hardcore, bares-all fun stuff. For me, watching porn is a process. It’s like sifting through the movies on Netflix. It takes a little searching, but every once in a while, you find a real gem and whoa, is it fantastic. Couple that with a quiet room, not too cold, not too hot, a vibrator you bought off Amazon, and you’re in for a fun night.
I spent so much of my life being ashamed of my own body, of wanting to explore it and, since we’re being honest, others like it. It took me a long time to come to terms with the fact that it’s not only men that I’m attracted to. For years, I buried the signs of my fluidity, the fact that I’ve only dated men but my first fantasy was of a female classmate. The fact that I loved kissing my boyfriends but explored other stuff with a female family friend on the regular in my childhood. With a family that doesn’t exactly accept anything less than holy straightness, the closet was (and still is) a cozy haven. No wonder I used to love reading in there as a child. But my sexuality isn’t something that I’m ashamed of. I would love to date women! I would love to date men! And I sure as hell would love to have sex with someone who is either or neither… and maybe even both at the same time. My point: being a virgin doesn’t make me any less sexual than the rest of my Siren sisters. But the perk of being a virgin, fluid, and constantly freaking horny? The possibilities are endless. So come on, folks! Let’s start beefing up that resume. Pun definitely intended.