Better a slut than no sex at all: An Intimate Correspondence

By Barbara Balldini

I love sex. And yes, by God, I have reasons enough to say so. In order to love sex you have to have sex. A lot of sex. And I mean a lot of sex. Good sex, it goes without saying. And women who know a lot about sex can't be nice girls. Well, I never wanted to be a nice girl anyway. After all, nice girls go to heaven. And who really wants to go to heaven? Well, if you ask me, I don't. To sit on fluffy white clouds and sing "Hallelujah," surrounded by sweet little angels, is not my thing. Not that I have anything against a hallelujah, don't get me wrong. But I prefer a "Hallelujah-jah-jaaah" here on earth, beneath a strong guy, to one beyond all earthly pleasures anytime. And so you understand what I mean, I will let you take a little peep through the keyhole. You are gagging for it, aren't you?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kyrene.Literaturverlag
• Release date: Sep 7, 2012
• ISBN: 9783902873170

Book preview

Acknowledgments

Foreplay

I love sex. And yes, by God, I have reasons enough to say so. In order to love sex you have to have sex. A lot of sex. And I mean a lot of sex. Good sex, it goes without saying. And women who know a lot about sex can’t be nice girls. Well, I never wanted to be a nice girl anyway. After all, nice girls go to heaven. And who really wants to go to heaven? Well, if you ask me, I don’t. To sit on fluffy white clouds and sing Hallelujah, surrounded by sweet little angels, is not my thing. Not that I have anything against a hallelujah, don’t get me wrong. But I prefer a Hallelujah-jah-jaaah here on earth, beneath a strong guy, to one beyond all earthly pleasures anytime. And so you understand what I mean, I will let you take a little peep through the keyhole. You are gagging for it, aren’t you?

Yes, I know quite a bit about sex. And more than a bit about men. A little about women and plenty about myself. Which brings me right to the point. Good sex begins with oneself and requires self-awareness. That is, to be aware of one’s self. Ha, got you. For who really is aware of themselves? And how long does it take someone to become aware of themselves? Their abysses, their longings, their wildness, tenderness, physicality, lewdness, motherliness, shyness, recklessness. Their fear and their beauty, their awkwardness, their abilities, passions, possibilities, their strengths and weaknesses?

No, I wouldn’t dare claim being aware of all that, far from it. One thing I’m absolutely sure of, though, and that is the power of my body, and that, as woman, I’m very attractive to men, and to what is in their pants.

The thing is this: women ultimately have the power over men. We literally reign over them. Honestly. Who, I ask you, decides when he may stick his thing in, where and how? Please don’t pretend you don’t know. The boys may stand on their heads naked and wiggle their toes or whatever. In the end, it’s up to the female alone whether the bed sees action or not.

If you believe that a ready and willing girl is highly coveted, loved and courted, you’re wrong. Men want to conquer. Easy prey doesn’t interest them. And if it does, it does so only until they have reached their goal. Men love the hunt more than they love the prey. The longer a quarry plays hard-to-get, the more turned on the hunter. So, ladies, even in the days of emancipation, let yourselves be conquered.

But never give it all up. For heaven’s sake, keep your autonomy and your freedom. Even if you live under one roof with the guy you love. Because this is the only thing he will idolise and adore you for. He will be grateful for never being quite sure of what comes next, what you will do next, or which project you will undertake next. Now you’re home, now you’re gone for a while. Now you love to iron and run the household, now you get someone in to do the job for you for a while. After all, you earn your own money. And that’s just how it should be.

Please don’t ever forget, never ever: you are his wife, not his mother. And neither are you his therapist or his best buddy. You are his wife. Never his bunny, his sweetie, his honey, his baby, or whatever stupid pet names there may be. You can be his whore, why not. His bitch and his slut. That’s okay too. Only, at all times be aware of the following: you decide who you are, what you are, and when you are what you are. This is what he will love you for. No, what he will adore you for. He will be mad about you and he will not be able to imagine anyone better than you, you alone.

How do I know? Well, as I said before, I know quite a bit about men. I live what I feel. I say what I think. And I do so with great pleasure. Did you know that men exaggerate widely when it comes to their conquests, while women prefer to sweep the odd affair under the carpet as an accident? Even though women, as far as the number of their sex partners is concerned, have long since arrived where their mothers under no circumstances wanted them to be. A fact which men not even dare think about. But this is also as it should be.

Whatever you are, ladies, be so with conviction. This, and only this, means real freedom. If you are, it doesn’t matter whether you’re a mother or a housewife, a nurse or a chef, a teacher or a social worker. The conviction and the love for what you do automatically makes you a queen.

Because, you see, a whore and a saint, a bitch and a goddess, a slut and a queen, a dominatrix and a diva do not exclude each other. On the contrary, they belong together. Yes, all these personalities in yourself should be as thick as thieves. Which, in general, can’t be said about exclusively female groups. But in this instance competition is not called for. Never. If you are able to live out and bring to bear all the abilities of these different ladies, you will be a mature, blessed woman. The goal is to combine in oneself the powers of the whore and the goddess, the bitch and the saint, the dominatrix and the diva. There will be days when these roles complement each other, and days when not all of them will be necessary for the erotic game. And then again they will meet up for a merry gossip, to report every last dirty detail of their nights of love, and always to generously and wastefully pass on tips and advice. The one complements the other, and the one is nothing without her counterpart.

Of course, it can also happen that several of them buckle down during one and the same night and then a harmonious team play is all important, is the alpha and the omega, the non plus ultra of the perfect seduction. Because all these ladies, ultimately, want to leave a lasting impression. You carry them inside you even now. They are there already. The question is, how much space, how many opportunities do you give each one of them inside you? Is she allowed to live? Is she allowed to develop? Is she allowed to show herself?

Dear female reader, dear male reader, when I had realised all this, when I had lived all this, had lived it to the full, – which I still do, by the way – I began to go public. I underwent training to become a qualified sex educationist, founded an institute to deal with questions of sex and sexual disorders, set up a temple for tantric massage, and went on stage to pass on my knowledge and my experiences in a joyful and relaxed atmosphere.

And I’m sure you can guess what happened: the secret bitches and sluts, queens and goddesses, divas and housewives, women of all ages began to write to me and to come and see me at my practice. They shared their experiences with me, experiences gathered in the course of dark nights, under stale blankets, in infamous places. They described their encounters with men, youths, and idiots, in twos, in threesomes, in foursomes, or experiences they had had on their own. They asked questions in order to improve their techniques, to soothe their guilty consciences, to throw their shame overboard once and for all, and/or merely to gain the certainty that, as a person, they were quite okay the way they were.

Brave confessions and open questions deserve straight answers. I began to wipe away doubts, to listen to intimate stories, to hear confessions. I gave away secrets on really good sex and henceforth no longer minced my words.

You, who are holding this book in your hands, have shown courage. Or someone has given it to you thinking that it could be of use. Which would worry me somewhat. As it may be, you hold the book in your hands now. Possibly it will change your sex life. You’d better think twice if this is what you want, to change your sex life.

You will read things of which you’ve never heard before. Things that will turn you into a divine slut –