You Say “Mind Blowing” As Though It’s a Good Thing

Mind-Blowing Sex? Amnesia Could Be Caused By Sex, New Report Suggests
A 54-year-old woman must have had the best sex ever.
In fact, doctors at George Washington University hospital believe it resulted in short-term global amnesia. LiveScience states that the case, reported in the September issue of The Journal of Emergency Medicine, actually isn’t unheard of, though global amnesia is incredibly rare.
However, it seems scientists don’t know if sex truly is at the root of the condition, but it may be an uncomfortable position that is really causing all the fuss.
From The Daily:
Her memory got hazy, she said, just after sex with her husband. Researchers know very little about transient global amnesia and they can only guess at its causes, one of which they suspect is sex. Their best guess is that the amnesia is triggered by Valsalva maneuver, which causes oxygen-poor blood to gather in the neck.
Thankfully, the condition only affects 3 to 5 people per 100,000 each year, according to LiveScience. The scary thing, however, is that scientists have no idea how people seem to remain awake and active while large chunks of memory go missing.
This type of amnesia seems to differ greatly from traumatically induced amnesia, and effects seem to disappear after a few hours. However, this short-term condition also seems much different from dissociative amnesia, a mental condition that erases large periods of time and is often caused by traumatic events, according to WebMD.
This short-term amnesia seems to be in a class of its own.
LiveScience explains more about the Valsalva manuever:
This is called the “Valsalva maneuver,” familiar as the “bearing down” people might do when lifting weights, defecating or even having sex. The increased pressure increases the resistance to blood flowing down the jugular veins, and insufficient valves may allow deoxygenated blood to push back up the neck. Oxygen-poor blood then “piles up” in the veins draining the brain, especially in central brain regions that are key to memory formation. The result could be transient amnesia.
My own lack of knowledge about human biology notwithstanding, this seems like a scientifically sound hypothesis. According to Wikipedia, the aforementioned Valsalva Maneuver results from “moderately forceful attempted exhalation against a closed airway, usually done by closing one’s mouth and pinching one’s nose shut.” The Wikipedia article does not specifically mention short-term memory loss, though it is noted that divers who perform this maneuver at the end of a dive as opposed to during ascent can suffer severe neurological damage.
Despite the fact that, if true, this would give many of us a much cooler excuse for forgetting our responsibilities than “Sorry, I was busy with my Fantasy Football team”, as stated in the article it seems like an uncomfortable position is more to blame for the memory-loss than the sex itself. While sex does frequently involve uncomfortable positions and the sort of erratic breathing that might lead to loss of consciousness, I’d have to guess that a claustrophobic person wedged into a cramped spot and forced to maintain an uncomfortable position for a prolonged period of time would be just as likely to experience short-term memory loss as someone enjoying mind-blowing sex.
Jill has experienced a variety of unusual physiological reactions during and after extremely intense sexual activity, including but not limited to ejaculation, crying, and light-headedness. She has thusfar never experienced short-term memory loss. If this changes, I will certainly re-evaluate the situation and probably reconsider my position, as if she does suffer post-sex amnesia it would most certainly be caused by the sex, and not by an uncomfortable position.

Sexy Chat on the Go

On December 30th, I found myself with an unexpected forty-five minute break. Jill was off work, but it was probably too early to have her meet me for lunch. At any rate, I knew she had an appointment to get her toes done that day, and chances are that was where she was. Rather than go home, I pulled into a local strip mall and sent her a text message, to which she quickly replied. It turned into a very stimulating conversation, one in which no words were spoken. Here it is, with some grammatical shortcuts and typographical errors cleaned up. Note that the blog entry referred to is “Wet Dreams” from December 29th, found at:

http://frisky916cpl.blogspot.com/2008/12/wet-dreams.html

Jack: You wrote a very sexy blog entry last night.
Jill: You liked it?
Jack: You made me hard.
Jill: That’s what I was hoping for.
Jack: I actually had a sex dream last night.
Jill: Hot. Tell me more.
Jack: It was the same dream you had.
Jill: No way. Tell me more.
Jack: You had some woman over the house and you were going to let me watch you two have sex.
Jill: That is hot.
Jack: Hell yes, I enjoyed it.
Jill: You should’ve woken me up. We should put on a web cam show soon and find some people to watch or invite friends over for live action.
Jack: Now I have a serious hard-on.
Jill: Oh you poor thing, too bad you have to work.
Jack: What would you do if I was there?
Jill: Deep throat it.
Jill: What did you like about the blog entry?
Jack: All of it. Who was the woman you dreamt about?
Jill: I’m not telling.
Jack: I bet I know who she was.
Jill: You would be surprised.
Jack: This conversation may have to be the next blog entry.

Jack’s Word of the Day: matutolagnia [may-too-toe-LAG-nee-uh] (n.) the desire to have sex in the morning

“Matutolagnia made Jill and I late for work this morning.”

-Jack

ADDENDUM: The above conversation was significant enough to post in that it is an example of how this blog is influencing our sex life. The line, “This conversation may have to be the next blog entry” is just one instance in which I thought about our blog while doing something sexual. Since starting our blog in September, when we are having sex I sometimes find myself thinking, “I wonder if Jill will write about this on the blog.” While picking up a few Christmas presents for Jill at the local adult store last month, I planned a related entry in my head, and realized that I would have to wait until she opened her gifts before posting it.

It’s not that I worry that having this blog will somehow make our sex life less spontaneous or more in the nature of a performance; on the contrary, so far it’s had the opposite effect. In fact, there have been a couple instances wherein we have done things for the express purpose of eventually blogging about the experience. So far, we have no complaints.

A New Year…

Although it doesn’t feel any different, it is indeed 2009. We hope you all had a fun and safe New Year; we certainly did. Jill and I just finished our first quickie of 2009, and we’re hoping for more sex before we go to bed tonight.

Jack’s Word of the Day: lubricious [loo-BRISH-uhs] (adj.) arousing or expressive of sexual desire; lustful; lecherous

“Jill and I are feeling quite lubricious right now.”

-Jack

Yuletide Pornography

During the Holiday season, Jill and I get into the spirit by watching Christmas movies, as well as the Christmas specials we enjoyed as children. Watching a clunky stop-motion Rankin-Bass classic like “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” on DVD takes both of us back to a more innocent time. However, since this is a sex blog, that’s the last you’ll read of innocent times.

This year, we thought we’d watch some Christmas-related porn. We already had a couple movies, one of which we played at our Porn and Pizza Party two years ago, but given repeated viewings, some of the novelty had worn off. So we went online to see what else was out there, and determine whether any of it was worth seeking out and actually watching.

Some basic research, including a search of www.iafd.com (The Internet Adult Film Database) yielded Will and Ed’s Excellent Boner Christmas, as well as the following:

All I Want For Christmas is Ass
All I Want For Christmas is a Gang Bang
Anal Holiday
Barely Legal Christmas
Big Titty Christmas
Bitch That Stole Christmas, The
Christmas Cums Early
Dirty Santa
Gina’s Very Merry Christmas Orgy
Hercules Cums For Christmas
Here Cums Santa Clause [sic]
Horny Holiday
I Saw Mommy Eating Santa Claus
Miracle on 34D Street
Santa Comes Twice
Santa is Coming All Over Town
Santa is Naughty and Nice
Santa’s Cummin’!
Santa’s Itty Bitty Titties Helpers
Santa’s Sluts
Seymore Butts’ Christmas Orgy
Seymore Butts’ Merry Fucking Christmas
Spanked By Santa
Tits That Saved XXX-mas, The
Very Creamy Christmas, A
Very Very Bad Santa

We found a couple suitable titles online, and watched them one night last week. I’ll spare you the reviews; suffice it to say that the gimmick didn’t exactly improve the films. In our opinion, porn isn’t a genre where anything is gained by the addition of Santa hats to the performers’ heads, candy canes to their orifices, or Christmas trees to the background (as seen below).

Call me a Scrooge, but we’ll gladly watch our copy of Deep Inside Asia Carrera all year round.

-Jack

Fingercuffs – A Near Miss

Before I met Jill, I don’t think I ever entertained a threesome fantasy that didn’t involve myself and two women. In other words, while I knew that a threesome could conceivably involve two men and one woman, I couldn’t really see myself fantasizing about such a thing, or actively seeking it out. It’s not that I was squeamish or afraid of the idea of being in a threesome where another man was involved – after all, there are plenty of things two guys can do with a woman without actually touching each other – it just wasn’t my preferred scenario. I always found the fantasy of two women much more appealing. And why wouldn’t I? Women are just plain hotter than men. Which is why the thought of not one but two gorgeous women having me all to themselves, ideally after they’ve warmed each other up, is quite possibly the pinnacle of sexual fantasy.

However, when I was twenty-six, I came closer than I had ever come before, or since, to having a threesome with a married couple. I’ll call them Jerry and Julie. Jerry was a former co-worker of mine, and Julie was his wife. I spent many an evening hanging out at their house, drinking, playing video games, and watching television. Sometimes there was a small crowd, including Jerry’s high school friends, co-workers, and next-door neighbors; other times it was just me, Jerry and Julie. But whoever was there, Julie was always the center of attention. She was twenty-two, head-to-toe sexy, and she knew it. When she was in the room, it was a good bet that any straight guy present was thinking about having sex with her, no matter what she was wearing or how she looked. Thoughts of her pouting lips and killer body had gotten me through many a dry spell and I, like most of their guy friends no doubt, frequently fantasized about her.

I never got the impression that Jerry and Julie had an open relationship or anything like that, nor did I have the sense that Julie was interested in women at all. In spite of her tendency to point out attractive women on television, she was way too attracted to men. She liked to flirt with just about any guy who came over. Nothing too forward, mind you; for Julie it was sufficient to add a sexy lilt to her voice when greeting a male guest, lean over to flaunt her bountiful cleavage when handing him a drink, or maintain eye contact a few seconds longer than necessary when saying good night. I ate it up.

One Friday night, the three of us hung out in their living room, watching a DVD. In the six years since that night, the movie we were watching was forgotten, although I vividly remember the long T-shirt that Julie was wearing. I remember how it reached her knees, and I remember wondering if she was wearing anything underneath. In fact, it’s safe to say that I found it hard to focus on the DVD.

About halfway through the movie, Julie got up from the couch and took the empty popcorn bowl into the kitchen. Jerry went to help her, taking with him our empty glasses. I sat on the couch, staring at the paused image on the television screen, and after a couple minutes Jerry called out to me.

“Hey bro,” he shouted. “Come in here for a minute.”

In the kitchen, I found Julie perched atop a chair on her hands and knees. That long shirt she’d been wearing all night was hiked up past her hips, revealing a tiny black thong and a full round ass. Her back was arched, that beautiful ass staring me right in the face. Jerry stood in front of her. His shirt was still on, but his pants were down, gathered in a bunch at his feet. I stood in the doorway for a second, taking in what I’d stumbled upon – no! What I’d been invited to watch! – and then I stepped into the room for a better look.

As I moved closer to the kitchen table, Julie reached behind her, ostensibly to ensure that her shirt wasn’t obstructing my view of her ass, naked save for a tiny strip of fabric. Although I definitely liked what I was seeing, I wanted to move around the table and get a better look at what she was doing to Jerry, even if it meant having to see his cock. Jerry didn’t seem to care, and besides, I’d thought about Julie giving me oral sex for so long that seeing Jerry naked wasn’t going to ruin this moment.

I moved so that the table was between them and me, and watched Julie as she licked and sucked her husband’s cock. She didn’t use her hands at all, preferring to let her mouth and Jerry’s hips do all the work. At Jerry’s suggestion, Julie stopped going down on him just long enough to lose the thong. She stepped down from the chair, locking eyes with me as she slid her panties to the floor. She kicked them toward the kitchen doorway, then climbed onto the chair and got back to work. They put on an incredibly exciting show, and though instinct dictated that I downplay my own arousal, it wasn’t long before I was kneading my hard-on through my jeans, barely able to contain myself. In fact, it was a testament to my remarkable self-control that I kept my pants buttoned and zipped.

“You gotta get a look at that ass,” Jerry told me as his wife continued to wantonly devour his cock. Further urging was unnecessary, and I returned to my earlier vantage point, happy to gaze at his wife’s backside. As her head moved up and down on Jerry’s cock, her ass wobbled ever so slightly, and the sight made me even harder than I already was. When I offered praise, Julie moved a hand between her legs and opened her pussy with two fingers. All I could think about was dropping my jeans and thrusting into her as deeply as I could go, then repeating until I came. As it was, the visual I was enjoying would undoubtedly add much to the fantasy that I was going to use to get off that night.

The show continued for about half an hour, and I moved around the room to get a better view as necessary. At one point Julie actually masturbated, something I thought about very often. The fact that she masturbated wasn’t exactly a secret, but I frequently wondered how she did it. I never imagined that I’d get to see for myself. I was surprised by the intensity and urgency of her motions, and the thought of giving her a helping hand was exciting. Jerry came silently, something I didn’t even realize had occurred until Julie left the room to spit. In my fantasies Julie always swallowed, or at the very least let me come on her, but I liked the fact that she at least let him come in her mouth. Jerry pulled up his pants and we went back to the living room and sat on the couch. The room was silent for a couple minutes. I literally had no idea what to say.

Finally Jerry spoke: “What did you think?”

“That was really hot,” I said. “Thanks for letting me watch.”

Julie came out of the bedroom, still wearing her nightshirt, as well as a pair of gray sweatpants. It occurred to me that her black thong was still lying on the kitchen floor. “Okay,” she said, and Jerry put the movie back on. If I found it difficult to concentrate on the movie before, it was now impossible.

It was some time later that Jerry told me of the opportunity I had missed that night, and the signals I had been oblivious to. He wasn’t upset or anything, but I never did get another opportunity. It occurred to me that another of Jerry’s friends had probably been given the same shot and took it. I can’t honestly say that I would have joined Jerry and Julie had I actually been asked, or had I been bold enough to understand what they wanted of me. I’d like to think that I would have. After all, such chances don’t come along every day.

For the record I still do fantasize about threesomes involving myself and two gorgeous women. Jill is one of them, of course.

-Jack

Bettie Page (1923-2008)

I wanted to post a quick tribute to legendary 1950s pinup model Bettie Page, who passed away on Thursday at age 85. Bettie was an early Playboy Playmate (January 1955, to be exact), and a well-known fetish model, known for an extensive body of work that included spanking, bondage, and domination-themed photography and film. Even if you haven’t heard the name, you’ve undoubtedly seen one of her famous pinups or are familiar with her as a pop cultural icon. And if you’ve somehow missed out on Bettie Page on that level, I’m certain you are familiar with one of the celebrities, artists or photographers who were inspired by her.

After a career which saw her pose for an estimated 20,000 photos, Bettie Page fell out of the spotlight in 1958. Her reclusive nature in the years since then was the subject of fan speculation, and she developed a strong cult following. The look of Batman villainess Poison Ivy was inspired in part by Page, and she was the unwitting basis for the love interest in Dave Stevens’ comic series The Rocketeer (and to a lesser extent its 1991 film adaptation). Her image graced the covers of comic books and fanzines. Her original photo shoots were reprinted.

Then, in the early 1990s, Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous featured a telephone interview with Page wherein she confessed ignorance over her resurgence in popularity. Living in poverty and squalor in Los Angeles, Page realized that she stood to make a lot of money from the various individuals profiting from her likeness. She hired an agency and began receiving residual payments, ensuring financial stability in her waning years.

In 1996, author James L. Swanson published an authorized biography entitled “Bettie Page: The Life of a Pinup Legend.” Page did a single television interview to promote the book, but refused to allow her face to be shown. The following year, author Richard Foster published “The Real Bettie Page: The Truth About the Queen of Pinups”, a tell-all that revealed many shocking details about Page’s disappearance from the limelight. The definitive dramatization of Bettie Page’s 1950s heyday can be found in 2005’s The Notorious Bettie Page, starring Gretchen Moll in the title role.

A recent article at mtv.com nicely sums up her influence:

Katy Perry’s rocker bangs and throwback skimpy jumpers. Madonna’s “Sex” book and fascination with bondage gear. Rihanna’s obsession with all things leather, lace and second-skin binding. Uma Thurman in “Pulp Fiction.” The Suicide Girls’ Web site. The Pussycat Dolls. The entire career of Marilyn Manson’s ex-wife Dita Von Teese. Without Bettie Page, it’s likely none of these women would look the way they do.

http://www.mtv.com/news/articles/1601231/20081212/story.jhtml

-Jack

Home Alone

We spent the weekend at Jill’s parents’ house. Through an unexpected turn of events, we found ourselves home alone Saturday night. With no chance of parental (or other) intrusion, we regressed to a state I can only refer to as “high school horny”, when you’re still living at home, perpetually besieged by very active hormones, and can’t wait to have a couple hours’ privacy – or less! – to get your jollies.

We had just watched Jill’s parents pull out of the driveway, leaving for an overnight trip out of town. We had the house to ourselves for more than twenty-four hours, but neither of us saw any reason to procrastinate. After all, it’s best not to put off until tomorrow what you can do today, a lesson that I’ve learned all too well recently. So once the car was out of sight, we ran upstairs to the guest room. In spite of our instincts, we refrained from dropping any clothing on the way up, but once we were in our room with the door locked, we were both naked almost immediately, and locked in a warm embrace atop the bed seconds later.

We kissed for a very long time, neither of us feeling any need to rush. As the kissing escalated, our hands traveled across each other’s bodies, further building our arousal. After enjoying her sexy curves, my hand settled between Jill’s thighs, feeling her heat and her wetness. I explored her from the inside while she began to stroke my already-hard length, sharing a voracious kiss all the while.

Jill climbed on top of me and slipped me inside her. As she rode my thrusts she expertly played with herself, and I donated a couple fingers to her effort. Between my rapid upward thrusts, and the constant stimulation of her clit, she was close to a very intense climax. I felt her tense up, and as she came she collapsed on top of me, burying her face into my shoulder instead of moaning.

When it was my turn, I chose missionary position. Though not particularly imaginative, and not necessarily as exciting as doggy style, missionary has never let me down. Plus, it’s a great position for really deep penetration, especially when Jill puts her legs up on my shoulders. Which is exactly what she did, in fact. The feeling of her body against mine and her hips bucking against me, the taste of her nipple as she shoved it against my tongue, the sound of her breathing…my excitement was mounting, but it took me longer to climax than I thought it would. Jill reached down to stroke me as I moved in and out of her, her fingertips playing havoc all over me and accelerating my orgasm.

When I came, Jill took me in her hand and stroked me against her breasts. She brought me close to her mouth and kissed me clean, and then we cautiously ventured out of the guest room. As we opened the room door, we were glad to find the house as dark and quiet as when we started. We ran across the hall to the guest bathroom, and took a quick shower. Afterwards, Jill got a couple of towels from the hall closet and, having wrapped ourselves up in them, we headed to the backyard, where a warm and inviting hot tub awaited us.

It’s no secret that a good way to get us in the mood is to put us in the water, ideally with little – or no – clothing. Whether it’s the bathtub or the shower, a pool or a hot tub, a beach or a lake, there’s a good chance that, if we’re near or in water, we are thinking about sex. Of course, we were both already in the mood, and most definitely already thinking about sex. As we sat in the tub, enjoying the cool night air, immersed in hot, bubbling water, we listened to the sounds of the quiet night.

“Want to fuck again?” she asked.

I laughed. She knew the answer without even having to ask.

-Jack

Missed Opportunities

Don’t put off until tomorrow what you can do today. Trust me on this.

This morning I found out that San Francisco’s landmark sex club The Power Exchange closed down. The Power Exchange has been open for years, providing open-minded couples and singles a place to see and/or do things they might otherwise never experience.

For anyone not in the know, The Power Exchange is a multi-level establishment with various theme rooms (jail cell, dungeon, vampire’s lair, mad scientist’s lab), as well as a dance floor, stripper poles and pool tables, enabling patrons to satisfy just about any fantasy, usually with an audience. The club’s lower levels are open to all types and persuasions, while the upper level is limited to couples and single women.

Needless to say, Jill and I had entertained the idea of going to The Power Exchange for some time. The idea of watching people engaged in all manner of sexual activity, and possibly doing our own thing as well, fueled many a fantasy of ours, and we hoped to pay them a visit. Possibly with open-minded friends.

The Power Exchange closed its San Francisco location in November, with plans to open a new location in Las Vegas. So much for the possibility of taking a spur-of-the-moment trip there.

While I’m talking about missed opportunities, I also learned today of the passing of Forrest J. Ackerman. “Forry”, as he was sometimes called, was best known as the writer and editor of Famous Monsters of Filmland, a groundbreaking sci-fi and horror magazine, from 1958 to 1983. He was an avid collector of movie memorabilia, and he housed much of his collection – which included original props, models and costumes from classic movies such as “Dracula” and “King Kong” – in his home, known as the Acker-Mansion. In fact, fans were welcome to tour his home, view the various displays of movie history, and listen to tales of Forry’s long and storied life.

During our most recent trip to Southern California, I’d considered trying to make arrangements to tour the “Acker-Mini-Mansion”, the smaller home in which he resided near the end of his life. But I put it off, hoping that there would be other opportunities. While I’ll always have a hefty collection of back issues of Famous Monsters of Filmland, meeting the man who was responsible for it would have been the icing on the cake. But now it’s too late.

In the interest of keeping this entry on-topic, for a time Forry and his wife had an interest in nudism. Granted, I don’t think he would have been the type to attend a sex club like The Power Exchange, but he would probably have approved of their vampire’s lair and mad scientist’s lab rooms.

-Jack

Watching Us

One evening this week, when Jill and I were in the mood to be watched, we started up Yahoo! Messenger and logged into one of our accounts in the hopes of finding an audience. As is usually the case, we were only planning on having Jill give me oral on camera; she gets off on showing off, she always puts on a fantastic show, and for some very strange reason she is sometimes hesitant to get naked in front of complete strangers.

As is also usually the case, it can be tough to find a suitable audience (i.e. a couple, as we like watching even more than we like being watched). We looked for awhile, switching between several Yahoo! accounts, each with its own buddy list, but we had no luck finding anyone to show off for, or watch. We headed off to bed, to have sex without an audience. Which, let’s face it, is still pretty damn good.

As we headed to bed, I had a flash of brilliance. While Jill got undressed, I set up an older, rarely-used laptop in the bedroom. I attached one of our webcams, which I placed at a high vantage point atop our television. I started up Yahoo! Messenger and logged into our account, while Jill picked out a favorite porn movie and put it in the DVD player. Then she got into bed.

When the movie began playing, Jill did too. She took a small silver bullet-shaped vibrator from her nightstand drawer and held it against her breasts, letting her nipples stiffen into erect peaks. While she did that, I used my other laptop to log into a different Yahoo! Messenger account. I accessed the webcam that was broadcasting from on top of the television, and maximized the window so that it filled the screen. For a moment I watched Jill using the toy on her clit. Then I set the laptop down on my nightstand and turned my attention to my wife.

As I sensuously caressed Jill’s thighs she continued to play, her eyes focused on the movie. Then I dropped down between her legs and began to feast, urged onward by the sounds of porn emanating from our television, the delicious taste and aroma of my wife, and the occasional sneaky glance up at the laptop on my nightstand. I enjoyed watching the two people on the screen, even knowing that they were us. In between licks, I worked three fingers in and out of Jill, and with a long, intense moan she came, hard and explosively.

“I want to watch,” she said, and flipped over onto her hands and knees. She turned so that she was facing my laptop, and with one hand bracing herself against the mattress she reached back and spread herself open. I slipped inside her from behind, and as she rode my thrusts we watched ourselves on the screen. Her body bucked against mine, and the way Jill felt, the way we looked on the screen, both accompanied by the sounds of a very energetic scene playing on the television took me exactly where I needed to go. As I came, Jill’s moans upon being filled up were louder and more erotic than my own.

We collapsed onto the bed and lay in each other’s arms, listening to the movie playing on the television until Jill picked up the remote control and turned it off. We lay in silence, watching each other watching the webcam until we were asleep. The next night, we did it all over again.

-Jack

Sense and Sensuality

Let’s go back to elementary school, where we all learned about the five senses. You know the ones: Sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch. Most of us use all five senses every day without even thinking about it. I can honestly say that much of the stimuli I receive through the five senses is second nature, often barely even noticed by me.

Do you take any of your senses for granted? For the purposes of this post I am talking about the senses as they relate to sex. After spending some time thinking about the subject, Jill and I discovered that we have been doing exactly that. This is a situation we hope to remedy, especially in the bedroom. Or the living room. Or the bathroom, the garage, the car, the backyard, or anywhere else we might be going at it.

As part of our discussion on the subject, Jill and I separately ranked the importance of each sense, and then we shared our rankings with each other. We were not surprised to learn that our rankings were exactly the same, listed here in order from most important to least: Touch, sight, hearing, taste, and finally smell. (Jill notes that she originally ranked taste and hearing in the opposite order, but changed her mind.)

Sex feels great. There is no doubt that the sense of touch is, for most people, the most important one. Without the ability to feel physical stimulation, sex as we know it would be nothing like it currently is. It’s very unlikely that, without tactile sensation, Jill and I would enjoy sex as much as we do, or even be able to get off at all. In college, I had a classmate who was disabled, incapable of feeling anything from the waist down. He said that he could get an erection and actually have sex, though he felt nothing apart from the emotional connection to his wife.

Jill and I touch frequently, whether we’re holding hands in a public place, cuddling close together on the sofa, or sleeping beside each other at night. These situations aren’t overtly sexual, but when we touch it is frequently a reminder of more intimate contact.

Since it seems like such a no-brainer that the sense of touch plays the biggest role in sexual arousal, we felt no real urgency to test the hypothesis. However, in the interest of science we blindfolded each other and experimented with a few different items, including a silk handkerchief, a cotton wash towel, a smooth rolling back massager made of wood, a feather, and our hands. I don’t know the scientific term for it, but they all felt pretty good.

Keeping in mind the starring role that touch plays in sex, there are four other senses that are actively involved when we are intimate. Each one is important in enhancing the overall experience.

Although we both ranked sight as the second most important sense, in my opinion it’s only slightly less important than touch. Whether we are seeing each other masturbate, watching an adult movie, or observing our reflection in a mirror as we have sex, visual stimulation is a huge part of what turns us on. One recurring theme in our fantasies is voyeurism, often in the form of watching another couple have sex. The fact that Jill and I are both turned on by the thought of visual stimulation, and not necessarily the visual stimulation itself, speaks volumes about the importance of sight.

Hearing’s important too. However, until recently we mainly thought of hearing in relation to sight. Watching a porn film is hot, but listening to the sounds that accompany the visuals amps up the heat tenfold. However, Jill and I found that listening to the same porn film while not looking at the television led to much greater arousal than watching the television with the sound turned off. In fact, sometimes we’ll put a porn film on in the guest room, and have sex in our bedroom. The sounds of the couple in the movie excite us greatly, and while we have sex we fantasize that they’re actually in the next room. Clearly this is an instance wherein hearing is more important than sight.

After some reflection, we realized that we have placed a high value on our sense of hearing for at least as long as we’ve known each other. The first time we had sex, I was surprised by Jill’s enthusiasm. She was not shy, never hesitating to tell me what she liked, and what she wanted me to do. It went beyond dirty talk (something else she excelled at); the simple fact that she was vocal meant that she was involved and not passive, and I found this tremendously exciting.

Before we got married, Jill and I sometimes went days without seeing each other, and we would have phone sex quite often. Though a poor substitute for the physical intimacy we desired, phone sex was always satisfying. Listening to the person you love tell you the things she would like to do the next time you’re alone together, hearing the sounds she makes as she comes, and hearing her say that she’s turned on listening to you doing the same, each of these things involve two of our most unappreciated sexual organs, the ears.

We found the last two senses – taste and smell – subordinate to the first three with regard to sexual arousal, but they are still involved. Taste is probably the bigger of the two for both of us. We both love to kiss, and while much of this is due to touch – the way Jill’s tongue feels as it zips in and out of my mouth, for example – taste is a factor as well.

Jill finds the act of giving oral sex extremely arousing, to the point that she can sometimes come close to orgasm simply by doing it, with little if any stimulation of herself. She believes that this is due to the way I taste, though she admits that she’s also greatly excited by the knowledge that I enjoy it so much.

It’s widely understood that the sense of smell is most inextricably linked to our memories. What that means is that the smell of a certain type of car upholstery may subconsciously trigger memories of the fifth grade, when your dad might have driven a car with the same upholstery. I was reminded of this recently, when Jill and I went out to dinner. She wore a certain perfume that I haven’t smelled since one of our early dates, which happened to culminate in sex. Cut to last month. While sitting in the car on the way to the restaurant, I began to think about sex without knowing exactly why (other than the fact that I frequently think about sex). We were already planning to come home after dinner and have sex, but as I continued to drive I was surprised at the severity of my sudden arousal. As we arrived, I asked Jill if she’d ever worn that perfume before, and she told me not since we first started dating. I made the connection.

Unlike the experiments we did for our sense of touch, we didn’t really do anything to test our remaining senses. But in the future both Jill and I hope not to take these senses for granted, or at the very least be aware of them. To make better use of our sense of smell, we might try using scented candles or oils to set a sexy mood. Jill is a fan of sandalwood, a scent she finds particularly exciting. Additionally, we’ve got some scented massage oil we’d like to try out.

Regarding our sense of taste, we always hear or read that you should try incorporating food into your sex life. And sure, licking whipped cream off of Jill’s body is hot, but it’s not the taste of whipped cream that I’m interested in at that moment, it’s the taste of my wife. Because of this, and because we’re both actively trying to lose a few pounds, we don’t mix food and sex too often. Granted, our sense of taste isn’t one that we take too much for granted anyway.

We don’t really take our sense of hearing for granted, though in the interest of enhancing the experience from an aural perspective, I am trying to compile a playlist of songs that turn us on, so that we can have some music playing during sex. But not too loud; I would hate to miss any of our own sounds.

Like touch, we appreciate our sense of sight and I don’t think we take it for granted. We probably don’t spend enough time actually looking at each other prior to having sex, mainly because we’re both so excited that once the clothes come off we can’t wait. But that’s something I’d like to do more of. But we’ve never been the kind of couple to have sex with the lights out; we both love the visual, and typically spend as much time looking at our reflection in the mirror as we do looking into each other’s eyes.

So maybe we don’t take all of our senses for granted. We hope you don’t either.

-Jack