Suzanne Portnoy

My friend and fellow blogger Mimi’s most recent post ‘Legacies from the Men in my Life’ got me thinking, not in a general sense but in a sexual one. Funny that. In truth, the men in my life have probably taught me more about sex than about anything else. I’ve always been a self-contained, opinionated woman with a wide variety of interests so it’s hard to separate what I actually learned by myself from what I was taught by the men in my life. Actually, that’s not totally true. My ex-husband taught me a hell of a lot about music. And the one after that, the alcoholic, taught me I’m a very bad drinker. Whereas the one after that taught me how to make a very nice martini using apple and orange juice. He also taught me that when a man tells you ‘I’m a one woman man,’ he very rarely means it. The same man told me that I’d look much better with short, curly hair and he was right.

Then there’s the Sexual Legacies. In no particular order:

Tim- my first boyfriend. I’m ashamed to say that I can’t remember much of that relationship. Recently we met up after twenty-something years and he reminded me that his cock was tall and thin, much like he was. I have a vague memory of being on top and grinding although I know I learned that from Tony, the first man with whom I had an orgasm. I seem to recall that once I tied Tim up with scarves so perhaps I learned about bondage from him. Who knows? My memory sucks.

Ex-husband - I was young. I was relatively inexperienced (but thought I knew it all) So was he. When we got divorced, I was none the wiser. I think once again there was a lot of being on top and grinding. It’s fair to say that I probably didn’t come any other way for twenty years. I was a creature of habit and, probably, pretty crap in bed although I was always very enthusiastic.

Frank - How to give a blow job. The man was a fantastic teacher. Before him I thought the most sensitive part was in the base of the penis. Frank was also the man who introduced me to sex toys. I got to know the difference between a rabbit and a bullet vibe, butt plugs and anal beads, different sized dildos. Finally I got a crash course in masochism. Not sure it was what I wanted but at least now I know that I make a pretty awful sadist.

Andy/Rob- Two guys that taught me more about tantric sex than anyone else I know. With each of them I learned how to ‘ride the wave,’ fuck a man whilst completely still and using only my vaginal muscles, prolong my orgasm. They were both great lovers but, at least in Andy’s case, there wasn’t much going on intellectually. There’s only so long I can be with a guy with whom I can’t have a conversation. Rob was lovely but lived 3000 miles away, not much good for a midnight shag unless I happened to be in upstate New York.

Daniel - the King of Anal Sex. With Daniel I learned to appreciate and love anal sex. I never thought I could get to the point where I could wake up in the morning to find a cock in my ass but Daniel was such a pro, he managed it. Not many men could get me that relaxed and ready when I was half asleep. Daniel was really the first to introduce me to swinging. Until he became incredibly jealous we used to have a lot of fun together. That knickers are completely unnecessary and a waste of time and money.

Jack - Jack taught me that if I ever want to get off and an average sized cock isn’t doing it, than 3 minutes of porn will do the trick. And, more importantly, size does matter for me.

I will end with the line Mimi used at the beginning of her post, “I wonder what legacies, if any, they have from me.”

Angelika Jinx aka Naive London Girl and I talk about anal, internet dating, personal training and other stuff here.

“Do you think we’ll ever stop being naughty?” he said. The question was redundant.

I was sucking his cock in one of the newly refurbished relaxation rooms at Rio’s. The answer was obvious enough. He was my second of the afternoon.

I laughed. “I don’t even know your name,” I said. Despite having met once before, year’s earlier, when he had interrupted a threesome I was having in Rio’s to bring me lemonade and get in on the action, we’d never swapped names. I’d written about that experience in The Not So Invisible Woman. “I only know you as the Lemonade Guy.”

“John,” he said. “Lemonade guy indeed!”

***

We were covered in sweat and the baby oil which John had smoothed over my body fifteen minutes earlier. He had lured me into the room with the promise of a ‘proper massage’ and not the usual Rio’s five minute rub down on the way to feeling my pussy that I’d had forty-five minutes earlier from lover No. 1. When I felt warm oil being dripped onto my ass after only five minutes, I knew that I’d need to employ a professional to get rid of the knots in my shoulders. John had no intention of giving me a real back rub either.

“Look what you’ve done to me,” he said as he pushed his hard on between my bum cheeks.

“Oooow,” I said in my best coquettish voice. I raised my hand and felt his hard, thick 8″ cock. “Did I do that?”

John had an easy going way about him, a cheeky smile, broad shoulders, and a fit, hairless body. His bald head and the Chinese inscription tattooed on his upper arm made him look like a bit of a convict but he didn’t seem particularly dangerous, just dirty.

“You have a beautiful cock,” I said.

“And you like being fucked up the ass,” he said.

“It’s true,” I said raising myself on my knees. I felt him get into position behind me. “I do.”

“When I shoot I think of the time you asked me to slip my cock in your ass whilst you were sitting on that other guy. You gave me the best hole,” he said.

“Gentle,” I said and then he was inside me.