I may be a naughty bitch, but I'm just so damn good at it

Happiness lies neither in vice nor in virtue; but in the manner we appreciate the one and the other, and the choice we make pursuant to our individual organization. --Marquis de Sade

Bend me over and bang my booty. Send me your questions, vanilla or fruity.
Ask Mz. Conduct at: guttergrl69.hotmail.com

So, what did I get for my birthday? Tickets to see “Dirty Blonde,” the story of Mae West? No. Elvis Costello tickets? No. The wonderful glass dildo? No. Toss a feather down my panties and call me twitchy, bitchy and a year older, what I got was a big dash to the ER, only to discover I had a kidney infection. I suppose that was my gift from my ex-husband: to drive me and wait with me in a white trash filled emergency room for five hours. As he so eloquently stated, as I lay in the ER waiting room, throbbing in pain in a fetal position, “We’ve just spent a whole six hours together, you know.“ Yes, I knew.

Ms. Lula la Paintbrush swung by later and offered me her kidney and presented me with a painting she did. My son gave me a lecture on how I need to stop making such a big deal about my birthday because I’m always disappointed. He may have a point, but my papa is the one that would spend hours constructing a beautiful and ornate crown for me on each of my birthdays. It was always decorated with bright gold paper and my name written in glitter across the front. It’s a hard thing to let go of, but it’s not his fault. After all, he is a man and had no freakin’ idea what he’d inevitably started.

Okay, I can stop bitching now because I did get a gorgeous arrangement of my absolute favorite flower, freesia, from Mister New York, who will be jetting to the West Coast to see me soon. It’s one of those online meets and I will divulge all the juicy details as they unfold. I was also surprised, in the wee hours, by mister Have-Weenie-Will-Travel. He was standing on my doorstep looking like the cat that ate the canary (instead of me), and holding a dozen pink roses. I received a glorious bouquet (and the best booty banging ever) from the Lion King as well. The Royal Diva sent me a huge, colorful bouquet of spring flowers and the Lil’ Princess and her man came by with lilies so I have a house full of beautiful blooms and that makes me one happy hoyden. I was given wine, candy necklaces, chocolate, and delightful French postcards. Tickets to Cirque du Soleil came from Ned Flanders, my brother sent me a book signed by an author (a now shopping-cart-pushing recluse), and a box ‘o treasures from my country-fried girlfriend. Wild Bill and his Amazing Appendage promises that when I’m feeling better, dinner, cocktails and the wrath of the amazing appendage. My Yippie mentor wrote me a poem that downright tickles my fancy, and my fancy is damn hard to locate sometimes. My son took me to dinner and a French movie and told me “Mom, you’re a handful, but I wouldn’t change you for the world.” Now that’s a birthday I deserve.

On a previous note, a kidney infection is not fun, it is not painless (even for those of us that have very high thresholds), it takes too long to recover from and it’s just downright annoying. Big tip: when you’ve had several pitchers of bone-dry martinis and only three Triscuits, and you’re having a wild night screaming “Bang me baby and bang me in every hole and do it now,” be sure someone is sober enough to remember how important it is to hose off the magic wand before it enters another orifice of your body. Common sense is lost even on Mz. Conduct sometimes. Since I already got a butt fucking, I’ll just bitch slap myself and move on.

So off to another year of canoodling and cocktailing and searching for a wildly spirited Sir Prancelot and all his merry men.


Dear Mz. Conduct,

I have a rather embarrassing confession: I can't seem to get off with a blowjob. With or without a condom. It just doesn't seem to do the trick. Frankly, it's a little disturbing, especially when a lover wants to show me her kindness by giving me what most men are dying for, a little lollipop pop. Usually, what happens is that she goes down on me expecting to blow my mind, and then I have to resort to some other method to gain my satisfaction.

Not that that is all that bad for her since it usually takes me a good long while before I discharge my manhood. I've never been the quick-like-a-bunny type.

Is it possible I haven't had the right experience with an experienced fellatio artist? In the end, I don't want to disappoint my lover, because, after all, she wants it too. I just don't want to keep her down there for an hour before anything happens.

Your advice is most appreciated. Thank you.

DJ BJ

Dear DJ BJ,

Hmmmm, I recall a recent thirty-eight (yeah, honey I timed it) sausage sucking episode with nobody coming but me. Some men just have a difficult time having an orgasm with oral sex, that’s just a fact. My ex husband never could and I used to think that if I can’t do the trick then nobody could. Then again, I have been told by the man of the hour, that he’s never been able to cum with a blow job so I shouldn’t expect it, but all of a sudden... thar she blows.

Sometimes the inability to orgasm may be age related. Men as they age will at some point become less reliable in their ability to ejaculate. It can be a let down for your partner, but it’s the way it goes (or doesn’t). I know, for me, it’s like sucking on a Tootsie Pop without ever reaching the center. But this shouldn’t be the big concern. People are just different, in so many areas. Sexual compatibility is just like any other aspect of human nature. Your partner should accept this if they love you and if they can’t, then they need to move on and search for what they truly desire sexually.

Speaking of which, desire is a package in and of itself. Keep these five things in mind:

1) Desire Phase: Without the desire to be sexually active, men are not going to get excited or have orgasms.
2) Excitement: Manifesting by penile erection in men and vaginal lubrication in women
3) Plateau: Full sexual excitement during intercourse.
4) Orgasm: A highly pleasurable sensation occurring at the peak of sexual excitement. It is associated with ejaculation in men and rhythmic contraction of pelvic floor muscles in women.
5) Resolution: Relief of sexual excitement and a feeling of relaxation after orgasm.

I found this tidbit on a men’s sexual health site and you can give it some thought;
The inability to reach orgasm and ejaculation during any kind of sexual activity, in spite of normal erections and night emissions, is known as 'primary absolute anorgasmia.’ If a patient was able to reach orgasm in the past, the term to describe his condition is ‘secondary anorgasmia.’ Several factors might interfere with reaching full sexual excitement and thus failure to reach orgasm. Suggested psychological factors include obsessive-compulsive personality, interpersonal factors and various fears. However, in many cases there is no clear-cut cause, and anorgasmia may puzzle both the patient and physician. Patients might fall into a performance anxiety trap. Instead of relaxing and enjoying the sexual experience they might focus on their performance and on reaching orgasm. Performance anxiety would thus inhibit sexual excitement and orgasm.

My advice to you is that if you’re going to get together with your partner and you want to give it another go at filling her throat up, then hold off from masturbating for a few days beforehand. Also, you could read some erotica together and masturbate while doing so. When you feel yourself about to release then ask her to take you in her mouth and see if that works. Aside from that, I wouldn’t worry about it so much... just relax and be creative.


Dear Mz. Conduct,

I’ve been married to the same man for almost twenty years. He’s never liked me to initiate sex in any way. I could be completely sex starved and if I acted on it, it turns him off and he gets irate. Lately when I go swim at the pool, there’s been a man who I talk with. He’s very intense and has made it clear that he wants to be with me sexually. He’s so different than my husband and I can’t help but fantasize about being with him. If my husband ever found out I’m afraid he would become abusive, and I don’t want that to happen. Should I have this fling I can’t stop myself from thinking about or just put it away and be a good wife?

Wendy In The Woods

Lord love a lapdance, you should spend a weekend at Mz. Conduct’s Retreat for Stupid Bimbos. First of all, your husband is already abusive. There is no possible way that you can be happy with a husband like that. If you are afraid of physical abuse then you need to run (or swim) like the wind, honey. This man has brainwashed you into behaving a certain way to fit his egotistical and self-serving needs. I’d like to strap him to a garbage truck grill and use a cattle prod on him while his friends drink beer and scratch their pathetic crotches, but that’s beside the point.

I think you should sit down and tell your husband that this is not what you want out of a relationship. You want to be the aggressor from time to time and if he can’t handle that then you may be forced to have to look elsewhere for your needs. I say, after twenty years of his sinker, go for mister swim master and have a wild time, you certainly deserve it. It may even help you rethink your marriage and realize that you may desire your freedom now, or at least a weekend at my retreat.

Copyright 2001 All Rights Reserved Kim Alvarez