Randy Futon Sex & Personal Breakthroughs

Ok, so – my boyfriend and I have lived with roommates for the last 2 years of our relationship. We love living with people, but it has put a serious damper on our sex life. Case-in-point – the hot hot sex we had on our futon when our roommates were out of town and we were home alone, which seriously never happens (the being home alone part).

Granted, having roommates is just one part of the conditions dictating our sex life. I’ve had some awesome personal revelations that have way improved our sex. But even so – the roommate thing is a big deal. And it’s easily fixable. So we may be leaning towards not having roommates in the near future. Who knows.

I wanna give a little back story. I have been working on my second chakra for a while now. If you are into the 7 year cycles – the foundation of my second chakra was laid from age 7-14 – a time when all I saw were very unhealthy images and situations about sex from my mom. At the time I thought she was the coolest mom ever, but in hindsight – she set a horrible example. She had lots of casual sex, her worth was tied to whether a guy liked her or not, she was emotionally unstable and unhealthy, etc., etc. I of course didn’t realize this unhealthy foundation until much later in my life.

I don’t have a relationship with my mom. She is mentally very unhealthy and certifiably insane. It’s all or nothing with her and it took me a lot of years to shift from the all to the nothing.

Just because I have shifted to the nothing does not mean that it’s easy or that I don’t feel sad some times when I think about how I don’t have a mom.

I think that my second chakra, my sex life, and my relationship with my mom are all very much connected. I felt I needed to really super address my mom issues in order to improve my sexual health, since it’s all connected.

That notion first came up in a session with a myopractor I was seeing. I had been having neck pain and was trying to address it. During one session the myopractor was working on my hips, which have always been wonky and my pelvis has always been visibly very uneven. She noted how misaligned my hips were and mentioned my second chakra. For days after the session my mind was spinning with that simple connection – my pelvis/second chakra and my neck pain. That was over a year ago.

Then I started noticing weird things about my behaviors during sex – I felt very disconnected and was super duper spacey and not into sex. Because every time I would have sex it would stir up my second chakra and all of my mom issues. So of course I couldn’t be present during sex. You know? I came to the realization that I wasn’t going to enjoy sex until I made some big strides with my mom crap, and with resetting the foundation of my second chakra.

I went and saw a shaman about 6 months ago and during a visualization he led me through, I had to picture the negative feminine. What I pictured were 3 women – my great grandma, grandma and mom – walking in a single file line towards a river (I was on the other side of the river). By the time they reached the edge of the river, all three women had morphed into one giant, super scary, faceless woman cloaked in black.

Soon after that I had a BodyTalk session and in the session it came up that there were 7 generations of women (on my moms side) waiting for me to break this cycle. The cycle being that all the women on my moms side are in this viscous spin of unhealthy relationships and their self worth being tied up in romantic relationships, to put it in a super nutshell.

After all of that I felt like – ok! I get it! I’ve made some amazing connection! Now what? Why don’t I physically feel better? Why am I not having the great sex I want to be having? What is wrong with me? I find that with a lot of people doing personal work. They make the connections, they figure their shit out, but they don’t physically feel better or see the changes in their life they thought they would. Well, I mean, this is obviously because the work isn’t done. But that can be super frustrating because it feels like there is nothing left to do.

For the last 6 weeks I have been traveling on the east coast of the U.S. and in Europe. My last few days in Europe – I got sick. I never get sick, and I especially don’t get coughs that last for days. I was coughing and hacking and all kinds of gross shit was coming out. After a few days of this I thought, “There must be something in my heart chakra that’s trying to process. I wish I knew what it was.”

A few days after that I left Europe and arrived in New Haven. I turn on my cell phone, which had been off for over a month while I was in Europe. I had shit tons of voicemails, but none of them were time stamped so I didn’t know when they were left. I had three voicemails in a row from my mom and then one from a friend talking about home birth, the death of her mother, etc. I am over joyed at the home birth enthusiasm – this is why I do what I do and is what keeps me going working in the birth field. I was devastated by the news of the death. This surprised me. I sat on the bathroom floor and cried and cried and cried. I have contemplated many times how I think I will feel when my mom dies. Some times I feel guilty – like I should have a relationship with her now or try to help her or whatever. What I realized is that it has nothing to do with my actual mom. It has to do with me mourning the fact that I don’t have a mom. My actual mom just gave me life. That’s all she did. So a relationship with her isn’t the point, you know? But I get hung up on that, and that keeps me from the actual issue – acceptance that I don’t have a mom. That tons of other people do, that I want one, and that I don’t have one. This is the heart chakra stuff that’s been festering. Within hours of this episode I start feeling better, much less phlegmy, my couch improves, etc.

The next day one of my friends in New Haven asked me why my marriage ended (I got married in 2005, and divorced in 2009). I said I didn’t realize truly why it ended until much later, until I did shit tons of self exploration, read David Deida’s books, got lots of BodyTalk and all kinds of other stuff like that. But I realized that it ended simply because my ex-husband was way too feminine. My friend said, “So – you feel the feminine is negative then?” Oooo! Super interesting question that got me thinking. I said, “Hmmmm. No. I don’t feel the feminine is negative, but there definitely can be negative aspects to the feminine, and that’s what he was.” She asked what I saw as negative and positive, in terms of “being feminine.” The positive feminine I viewed as someone super inspired, lots of creativity, strong, confident, nurturing, knows what they want, etc. The negative feminine I viewed as someone complacent, who had to make everyone happy regardless of the cost to herself, who was generally helpless and couldn’t think for herself, who didn’t practice self care, who wasn’t honest – basically like a 1950s housewife. That’s what my ex was like – he couldn’t speak up for himself, he didn’t know what he wanted, and he was very complacent needing everyone to be happy regardless of the cost to himself.

A few days later, still in New Haven, I was driving with another friend of mine. I recounted this story to her – about how I viewed the positive and the negative feminine. Then we talked about positive and negative masculine aspects, just for fun. Positive masculine I see as someone with a great plan, solution oriented, solid in their foundation, sensitive and smart, etc. and the negative masculine I saw as basically like an alpha male closed minded meat head – it’s my way or the highway type guy.

I returned home from my trip a few days later and had this super hot futon sex with my boyfriend, which led to shit tons of personal revelations.

We started out snuggling on the futon, eating dinner and watching a movie. After we were done eating I shifted over to be closer to him and lay in his arms. He scooped me up and we just melted together and started kissing. The energy was magnetic and unexpected. It came out of nowhere and was definitely a force bigger than both of us. It was electric.

After we made out for a while, I got on all fours and started licking and sucking his dick and playing with his balls. He started fingering me – none of this is “normal” for us in terms of our daily sex routine, so we both knew this session was going to be hot.

After a minute I got up and went and got a couple of butt plugs and some oil for lube, some water, and I turned on the Beck pandora station.

We continued kissing and then he started going down on me. He was down there and I was just laying there, staring at the ceiling, kind of bored really. I noticed this and didn’t like it. I thought – ok, you don’t want him to be eating your pussy – what do you want him to be doing? I wanted him to be kissing my neck, my back, worshiping my skin basically. I realized how much more pleasure I get from touch and started thinking, “I’m more than just a vagina!” I thought, “I can’t ask him to stop eating my pussy and kiss my back. That is totally boring.” It also playing into my self limiting belief system that you can only have one kind of sex per session. So you can only be having hot passionate animal sex, or slow sensual sex. Not both. They are not interchangeable in the same session. Well, that’s a lie.

After a minute or so I did ask him and he happily obliged and it was actually really hot. I turned on to my stomach and he got on all fours on top of me. One of his knees was in between my legs and I started grinding on his thigh as he was kissing my neck and back. It was totally hot – way different than the boring scene I had pictured in my head.

He got on top of me and was going to stick in me, but I stopped him to be playful and tease him. I reached between my legs and grabbed his boner and stroked it, rubbed & smacked it on my clit and did basically everything except actually stick it in. That was super fun.

After a little while I turned over and we started kissing again. We decided to put in our butt plugs. I had brought out our silicone plug for him and our small glass plug for me. He said he would go and grab our big glass plug (the one that I’m scared of) and he would use that so that I could use the silicone plug instead of the small glass one. We laid next to each other and started working in our plugs. Again, I realized how much I think about what I think he is thinking. I was laying there thinking, “Oh my gosh, I am taking way too long. I need to hurry up and get this plug in so he’s not bored laying there waiting for me.” None of this is prompted by him at all. THIS IS ALL ME AND MY FUCKING CRAZY BRAIN. It is fucking ridiculous. Then I realized that I didn’t want to put in the silicone plug. I wanted to put in the small glass one. But I was using the silicone one because I thought that’s what he wanted. BUT I WANNA DO WHAT I WANT. And you know what? He doesn’t give a shit what plug I have in. A butt plug is a butt plug and they are all hot. Jesus Christ.

So, eventually, we both get our plugs in. He gets on top of me and we start fucking and kissing.

Then he lays on his back so I can get on top. But first I just lay next to him and softly kiss him, which I also almost didn’t do thinking he would just be anxious for the sex to keep going, he wouldn’t want to slow down and kiss, etc., etc. But none of this is true at all and is again all made up in my fucking head. We slowly kiss and it’s fucking wonderful.

Then I get on top of him and face his feet and start squatting up and down. I feel like he is about to come, but I don’t want him to come yet because I don’t want this to be over. This is also big for me. Recently I’ve been totally ready for sex to be over almost as soon as it starts. Often times I’m wondering in my mind if we’ve had sex for a reasonable length of time so I can go ahead and get him off. And once we’re done I feel like I’ve put in my time and that should by me a few more days. That is just fucking terrible. That’s not how it is all the time, but it’s a pretty regular feeling.

So, I don’t want him to come, which I also feel guilty about because I don’t want to like stop at the wrong moment and ruin his orgasm or something. I’m also super fucking out of breath and thirsty, but I don’t want to ruin the mood by getting up for water. That’s fucking ridiculous too. A minute later I get up, I get water, and the mood wasn’t ruined whatsoever.

I went back over to him and laid down next to him. We kissed and then I dumped some oil all over his penis and started stroking it.

I wanted to have an orgasm with his dick in me while using a vibrator. Most of the positions where I can use my vibrator aren’t his favorite, so I was stuck in my head about that – about not wanting to do something he didn’t love. But then I thought – that’s fucking stupid – I want to enjoy myself too! Why am I doing this to myself? So I just say, “I want to use my vibrator and come with your dick in me.” Which, of course, he is happy to make happen and we actually try a new position that is totally fucking hot. I basically got into childs pose – on my knees, ass in the air, face in the pillow. He got on his knees behind me.

And again – I’m in my fucking head. When I am getting my clit stimulated either from a mouth, a finger, a toy, whatever – I am super fucking quiet and only make noise when I orgasm. It’s just what I do. I felt like I was taking a particularly long time to come and thought, “Oh my god, I’m so quiet, he probably hates this and is so bored and feels like he’s fucking a dead body. I better come soon.” Oh my god. That is so stupid. I quickly put that thought out of my head and kept doing my thing and had a great great fucking orgasm and he came basically at the same time.

We collapsed on the bed and then started to pick apart the sex we had, like we always do – saying what we liked or didn’t like, what we were thinking, etc. It’s my favorite part of sex. This time it was just like the flood gates had opened though. I felt like I had never in my life been so self aware. It was like I was afraid to be. I viewed myself as this fucking rubiks cube that would never be solved and so I didn’t even want to go there. But really – it’s actually very fucking simple. What do you want? What do you like/not like? FUCKING ASK FOR IT. That’s it. I had so much to say and shared all of my crazy thoughts with my boyfriend, who of course confirmed that he wasn’t in fact thinking any of the things that I thought he was. Like – when I asked him to stop eating my pussy and kiss my back – he loved that. He can kiss my back with the same fervor that he has during oral sex. It’s all sensual to him.

When I got off of him to get water – he didn’t care at all. He just figured we were switching to a different position and was excited for that. Basically, he is healthy and present, has no expectations and enjoys every fucking thing we do. He said, “Do you know what the hottest part of the sex was for me? How in to it you were. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing. It matters how we’re connecting and how much I can feel your joy.”

I was floored at how much I think during sex, how much I assume, how responsible I felt for his experience, how I thought I knew what he was wanting/thinking/feeling, how really wrong I was and how I 100% do this to myself. It is so self sabotaging. But it was so freeing to say all of that out loud. We talked about for a long time afterwards.

The next day I went out with my best friend in Phoenix and we were catching up. He knew my ex-husband, so I was telling him about the positive and negative feminine aspects I had been talking about with my New Haven friends, how my ex animated the negative, etc. He said, “Oh, so wait a minute – you’re animating the negative feminine when you have sex.” OHMYGOD. I had never ever thought of that. I can’t believe I didn’t put together last night after the hot sex and all of the self realizations.

I am animating the negative feminine during sex – I am complacent, I try to make the other person happy, I practice no self care, I’m totally helpless, etc.

And I am trying to conquer my sex issues, my mom issues, and the negative feminine in my life – that’s why my marriage ended – because he animated the negative feminine. The image of the negative feminine that came up in my shamanic journey was that of my mom, grandma and great grandma morphed into one. So the negative feminine is my mom basically. And my second chakra, my sexual chakra, is all of my mom stuff.

It was all just making so much sense.

I came home and blurted that out to my boyfriend: I am animating the negative feminine during sex!!

What a break through.

Even more interesting is this – I turned 28 this year – in January. Leading up to my 28th birthday I was feeling lots of movement in my heart chakra. My chest was very sore to the touch, I was constantly touching it for no reason, always wanting to stretch it out and do heart opening yoga poses. I figured this was because I was moving out of my heart chakra (21-28) and into my throat chakra (28-35) and not wanting to take any leftover heart chakra crap with me.

I was also excited to be moving into my throat chakra, which is all about communication and expression.

But, I went through the first 10 months of my 28th year still feeling the heart chakra stuff. And not really feeling much in my throat chakra.

Then I got sick in Europe. I feel like that was the last hurrah of my heart chakra. Once I coughed all of that nasty shit up out of my lungs, I immediately felt better and couldn’t stop talking, perhaps activating or moving in to my throat chakra. Then I had the break through sex with my boyfriend and communicated intensely about it, and have been ever since.

Self discovery will obviously continue for the rest of my life.

But this was big.





Pissing In strange places

As I sit here, about to head home after 6 weeks away, I’m reflecting on two common themes from this trip: pissing in weird places and sleeping in weird places.

I have pissed:
-in a hotel room sink in Vernazza
-in Tupperware in London
-In a cashew jar in London
-on the lawn of a fancy hotel, Guerilla style, in Milan
-in a drinking glass that I periodically dumped into the grass outside my sleeping quarters in London
-in a home made tin foil funnel feeding into a kombucha bottle in the back of a four runner in a train station parking lot (attempted, but failed)

I have slept:
-on a futon in Brooklyn
-on a bed in Manchester
-on a boat floating on the Thames river
-on a sectional couch in Greenwich
-in a loft bed in Rome
-in a 300 year old stone wall apartment in Tuscany
-on a foam pad in Copenhagen
-a futon identical to mine in Germany
-in a “tool shed” in London
-on a sofa bed nest in new haven

We have experienced such amazing things on this trip, the most important and memorable being all of the relationships we formed, and the open arm welcomes we got everywhere we stayed. It was very humbling. The kindness we received is unforgettable.

Huge thanks to all of the people who made this trip possible – it was a group effort!

-Todd, for taking us to the airport
-Matt, for letting us crash at his apartment in NYC
-James, for giving us his bed and showing us the best time ever in Manchester
-Sally, for letting us couch surf in London
-Alexandra and Paolo, for taking us in like family in Tuscany
-Klaus and Viktor for showing us around Copenhagen and housing us
-Our beautiful German friends for pampering us in Wettenburg
-Sarah, for giving us her bed in Stockholm, sharing her box of wine, and giving us her bus pass
-Melissa, for the nest, the great company, and the naughty professor Tumblr page
-Prikryl, for driving us to Boston, for finding Twisted Fork, for the book, and for being all around the most delightful, genuine person ever.
-Marissa and Anthony for taking us in on our last night!
-roomies for taking care of the birdies
-Denise, for taking us home from the airport
-Stacie, for picking up and starting a placenta for me!

Stop playing with your fucking unibrow. You look like an asshole.

Day 33 Thursday October 10 (and the following week)

Today we flew from Dublin to New York, took a train to Grand Central Station, had dinner in NYC at our favorite buffet and took a train to New Haven to stay with a friend, Melissa, we had never actually met in person. And that was the beginning of a most unexpectedly delightful week. Melissa and I “met” when I rented her apartment in Brooklyn for a vacation in 2005. Some years later we ended up Facebook friends and then I got the urge to stop in new haven on our way back to Arizona. She was totally down with that, so here we are!

Melissa has a super cute renovated house in New Haven. She made up her sofa bed with shit tons of pillows and blankets so we slept in this great nest all week. And the whole week was just – coffee, breakfast and conversation in the morning, relaxing days, and cooking + wine + more conversation at dinner and late into the night.

To top it all off, our fantastic friend Sarah is temporarily living in New Haven and we got to spend all kinds of time with her.

Highlights of New Haven:

-a day trip to New York City
-Cinnamon roll french toast at the pantry
-The garlic festival
-Sarah giving me a copy of The Holographic Universe
-Walking around the Yale campus
-pizza at Frank Pepes
-Harold the dog
-galavanting around Boston with Sarah
-Leaning against Paul Reveres house talking about catheters and dick cheese
-Brunching in Worcester talking about low hanging ballsacks dipped in poop.

While siting at Frank Pepes I asked Kris to go find out where the bathroom was because I hate aimlessly wandering looking for the toilet. He said, “Why? Why? Why? But why? You’re a grown ass woman.”

I burped at lunch and Kris said, “That was HIGHLY inappropriate. Those people looked over at you.”

Katie: why did you have to grab, like, my one white t shirt to use as a cum rag? I have a shit ton of black ones. You need to wash this skank cum shirt right away.
Kris: It’s not as skank as the dirty ass underwear.
Katie: You mean your pair of underwear that I’ve been wearing for two days?
Kris: No. I mean my underwear that I have t changed since we arrived in Connecticut.

“Stop playing with your fucking unibrow. You look like an asshole.”

Katie: (sings Whitney Houston)
Kris: Oh my god. Stop singing that song. Stop. Just stop it.
Katie: If you keep me talking I won’t sing. Talk to me. Ask me anything, anything at all.

Looking at a Tumblr porn page:
Katie: That’s a nice dick.
Kris: that’s a big fucking circumcised piece of shit. That’s not a nice dick. At all.

Katie: You skip around a lot when you’re walking.
Kris: I just like to stay on my toes.
Katie: I’m gonna call you skipper.
Kris: great. Call me skipper. Skipper Cheese Dick.

Sarah’s “I didn’t realize a Carmel Apple latte had coffee in it” face


Brunch at The Pantry


Street theater in new haven


Pizza at frank pepes


Autumn in Connecticut