Confessions of a Sex Kitten

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To be a woman in touch with her sexuality is a mixed blessing. I would not trade it. Yet I can't deny the price is often more than I want to pay.

Look no further than religion to see the power of a woman’s sexuality. Some religions fear it so much that they require women to hide every inch of themselves in public. Other religions prescribe that a woman may have sex without sin only when it is with her husband for the purpose of procreation. The only woman Perfect enough to bear the son of God was a woman without sex.

Often men say that they admire my openness about sex, that it is unique and that more women should be this way. I have also heard men say that true power belongs to women because they possess the pussy. “I know anytime I enjoy sexual gratification, it’s because a woman allowed me to. That’s power,” someone told me once.

But what’s it like to be a Sex Kitten? Even in today’s sexually liberated culture, when people no longer pretend that getting laid isn’t the norm for single adults, there are frightening consequences for a woman who expresses her sexuality. For a mother involved in a hostile custody battle, sexuality is proof that she falls short of the understood ideal for acceptable motherhood. A father’s attitude toward sex is likely to be irrelevant, but a mother who embraces sex as an important part of her life might corrupt her children and turn them into perverts. Or worse, if she has daughters, she may raise them to be as sexually aware as she is, which would lead to more and more generations of women possessed of the power to understand and control their own sex lives. What a frightening thought.

Because I’m proud of my work here at, I tend to share it with others, even men that I’m dating. The reaction is very predictable to me by now-—first they are intrigued and turned on by it. Then they become confused and fail to understand my “obsession with sex.” Finally, they admit that they can’t handle it. “I would never feel right having you around my daughters,” one man told me. He went on to explain why he was dumping me, “I could never introduce you to my mother.”

Seriously, did he think that I don't know how to act around someone's mother? Did he think I would pull my dildo out of my purse and ask her to compare? Or that I might mess up and let it slip that her son and I were having sex on a regular basis, like every other healthy, grown-up, unmarried couple in the world?

If you’re a regular reader of my boudoir, you know that my columns are not always about sex, nor are they particularly vulgar or sexually explicit. But, yes, the focus of this publication is women’s sexuality. As a woman, my interest in such would seem natural and not really abnormal. The only difference between us Sex Kittens and the millions of “normal” women who buy books and magazines designed to teach them how to please their man--who attend titillating lingerie parties with their girlfriends and co-workers, who draw up the courage to visit an erotic toy store to buy vibrators and sex toys, who discuss their sex lives in hushed tones with their best friends, who masturbate and never tell anybody—is that I am not afraid to admit these things because they are not wrong. Unlike other women, I don’t fear my sexuality, I value it. I’m proud of it. I don’t fear the judgment of society because I know that society’s judgment is twisted, not me.

Well, okay, sometimes I do fear it just a little. As I said, the consequences can be severe, and the nights can be so lonely.


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Tess's Room

A lovely tempest, not easily understood, but worth the effort. Sort of like dark bitter chocolate surrounding the sweetest cherry...

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