Frequently Asked Questions From Five Years of Sex Blogging

I’m amazed to say that this blog is five years old today. If my blog were my child, it’d be telling simple stories in full sentences, singing and dancing, and doing somersaults. If my blog were my spouse, we’d be exchanging wood-related gifts this year (I like to think I’d buy it a NobEssence dildo and it’d buy me a wooden bathtub caddy so I could journal in the bath). But my blog is a blog, so instead of doing any of those things, I’m gonna answer some of the most common questions I’ve been asked about sex blogging in the past five years. It’s been a wild journey…

What are your top-5 desert-island toys?

This is always changing, and I’m sure my answer will be different in a year or even a few months. But right now, these are the five toys I would keep if I had to get rid of everything else: the Fucking Sculptures Double Trouble, the Magic Wand Rechargeable, the We-Vibe Tango, the Njoy Eleven, and the Liberator Jaz. (If you’re a sex-toy purist and don’t think a piece of sex furniture should count as a toy, feel free to swap out the Jaz for the Vixen Creations Mustang.)

What’s the weirdest toy you’ve ever tried?

When I bring someone to my bedroom for the first time, and show off my toy collection, I’ll often take out the Magic Banana and have them try to guess what it’s for. They’re almost never correct, and it’s hilarious. Also on my weirdest-toys list: a scented vibrator, an oral-sex simulator comprised of twirling tongues, a dildo made specifically for blowjobs, a glass dildo shaped like a hot pepper, and a pair of BUTT PLUG SHOES.

What’s the worst toy you’ve ever tried?

The Lelo Ida repeatedly made me scream in pain and utterly distressed my then-partner. After finishing my review, I triumphantly threw the toy on my bedroom floor and didn’t pick it up for months afterward, because every time I looked at it, I was filled with such disdain that I didn’t even want to lift it to a less degrading position. Also, there was the time a glass egg got stuck in my vagina

What’s your favorite toy?

For years, that title belonged to the Eroscillator; then it shifted to the Eleven; now the Double Trouble is firmly my favorite. When I ask partners who know me well to fuck me with a toy, they don’t even have to ask which one to grab. When I travel, I leave my Dub Trubz at home because I’m scared to death of an airline losing it, and sometimes I even make arrangements to borrow sex blogger friends’ Double Troubles at my destination. I’ve been asked, more than once, about the DT, “Why don’t you marry it?!” Our love is a deep, sweet, and enduring one.

What made you want to start a sex blog?

When I graduated high school, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I had interests and talents in a lot of disparate fields – music, theatre, writing, sex ed, audio production – but none of them particularly called to me as my Career. So I took a year off to gather my thoughts before committing to a post-secondary program. During that year, I applied to lots of jobs, one of which was a sales associate position at my local feminist sex shop Good For Her. They didn’t hire me, but in the process of applying, I did some research to beef up my sex toy knowledge and stumbled upon sex toy review blogs like Epiphora’s and Lilly’s. I thought, “Hey, I could do that!” and thus Girly Juice was born. Later that year, I decided to go back to school for journalism, my passion for writing having been reignited.

How do you make money from your blog?

Lots of different ways! Sometimes companies pay me to write sponsored posts about their product or business; sometimes they pay to advertise in my sidebar or on my social media; and I also make commissions when readers buy products through my affiliate links. (Want more info about any of these income streams? My policies page‘ll give you the lowdown.) This blog has also led to other opportunities for me, like writing assignments and speaking gigs, which bring in some money.

What do your parents think of what you do?

They are totally, 100% fine with it. Which is fortunate, since I currently live with them and it would be awkward to have to make up excuses for all the boxes of sex toys I receive in the mail! Neither of them read my blog regularly (in fact, I don’t think my dad has ever even seen it), but they both completely approve of my work and are proud I’m doing well at something I feel passionate about.

So are you only on this [date/online dating platform] to gather fodder for your blog?

People ask me this on Tinder or OkCupid sometimes and it always throws me for a loop, because, hey, sex bloggers are people too; we have social and sexual needs, like most other people! While I do often write about my romantic and sexual experiences, I don’t seek out those experiences just to have something to write about. I seek them out for the joy and adventure they add to my life, same as anyone else.

How many sex toys do you own?

Depending on how broad or narrow your definition of a “sex toy” is (e.g. does sex furniture count? Do impact-play pervertables count? Do leather restraints count?), the number is currently somewhere between 150 and 200. The full list is here, although I’d guess I’ve given/traded away about a quarter of that stuff, so my toybox list is longer than the actual contents of my collection.

Do you need vibrators to have an orgasm?

Nope. About 6% of the orgasms I’ve had so far in 2017 have been achieved with fingers only. And I do occasionally come from partners’ mouths or hands. But I find I achieve orgasms more easily, quickly, and consistently when a vibrator is involved, so I use them most of the time. Not doing so would feel to me like stubbornly refusing to wear glasses because they’re “not natural,” even though they improve my quality of life.

Don’t your partners feel emasculated if you use toys with them?

In all my life as a vibrator-lovin’ slut, I’ve only had partners raise objections to my vibrator usage twice, ever – and in both cases, it was more a logistical issue than an inadequacy issue (less “Your vibe makes me feel replaced” and more “Your vibe feels weird on my dick” or “Your vibe is getting in the way”). Truth be told, I don’t tend to bang the type of person who would take issue with a vibrator, and whenever anyone does, it kills my attraction to them pretty quick. Good partners just want to give you pleasure in any way they can. All my favorite partners have understood intuitively that sex toys are a tool they can use to make me feel good, not an external force that takes over their job.

(FYI: a survey of college-age men, cited in the book Becoming Cliterate by Dr. Laurie Mintz, found that ninety-five percent of respondents either had incorporated a vibrator into sex with a female partner or would be interested in doing so. This stat is in line with my own experiences of using vibrators with male partners.)

How did you become so confident in your sexuality?

I’m surprised by how often I get asked this! I’m pretty open about the fact that I’m not always confident about my sexuality: I have a lot of sexual anxieties, I sometimes struggle with kink-shaming myself, and I’m still shaking off culturally-induced guilt about “not deserving” pleasure or orgasms. But when I have made strides toward sexual confidence, it’s usually been because of the influence of my many sex-positive friends and mentors. Surrounding yourself with people who hold the attitudes you wish you held is an enormously powerful thing to do.

Have you ever tried the Sybian?

Yup. I didn’t like it. Too buzzy and broad for my tastes. Here are some pictures of me eating pizza while sitting astride Epiphora’s Sybian.

So you just get sent whatever sex toys you want, for free?

Not really. Sometimes I request certain toys I want and companies send them, but more often, companies offer me a toy that needs reviewing and I can either accept it or decline. There have been many times when I’ve desperately wanted a toy and had to buy it myself because no shops/companies needed that particular toy reviewed or were willing to send it to a reviewer.

So do you just masturbate all the time?

I masturbate about 5-6 times a week, on average. (Gosh, it’s very satisfying that I have an orgasm spreadsheet now so I can actually calculate stats like this!) Most of those are “leisure wanks” rather than “work wanks,” because I can’t always be arsed to risk ruining my orgasm with some random toy I have to test. But I do try to test toys I’m reviewing at least 5 times before writing my review, so I’ll be able to paint an accurate picture of the toy.

Do you ever get sick of sex toys?

I work at a sex shop part-time in addition to running this blog, so you would think that I would… but nope, still love ’em! Sometimes I get tired of answering the same questions over and over again, fielding the same old misconceptions, and advocating for my right to be treated with respect as a Woman Who Does Sexy Things Online, but the work and the toys themselves don’t get old for me.

How long do you think you’ll keep writing your blog for?

I’m five years in and don’t feel remotely like I’m running out of steam – I still have new blog post ideas practically every day, and am still rabidly curious about sex, kink, and relationships. I’ll stop writing this blog when it stops feeling fun, but I can’t imagine why that would ever happen.


Thanks for sticking with me all these years, babes! I love you and I’m so happy I get to write for you.

My Issues With Intercourse and How I Solve ‘Em

I’ve never had so many impassioned debates about intercourse as I did while I was writing a column on it for This magazine last year. And I’m a sex nerd, so, y’know, my life is almost always brimming with debates about intercourse. But for those few weeks, they were particularly densely packed.

See, the argument of my article was that millennials aren’t that into intercourse anymore. The reasons, I wrote, were manifold: pregnancy and STI concerns, performance anxieties, and less-than-ideal sexual stimulation, to name a few. I’d pitched this angle because it jelled with my own experience: I felt increasingly lukewarm about PIV (penis-in-vagina sex), and my male partners around that time seemed similarly ambivalent. As my fuckbuddy once put it, “PIV is on the menu, sure – but it’s a big menu.”

But lots of people argued with me when I explained what I was writing. Some men insisted they’d rather fuck than get sucked off. Some women explained they don’t feel entirely fulfilled by a sexual encounter if a peen doesn’t broach their vag. For every two friends who agreed with my thesis, there would be one who staunchly did not. That’s fine – humans’ sexual tastes are gloriously varied! – but it did get me thinking about why I’m not that keen on PIV. I had written about why millennials, more broadly, might not be that into it, but I hadn’t spent much time pondering why I, specifically, didn’t enjoy it anymore.

In subsequent contemplation, I’ve come up with five main issues I have with PIV. Here are those issues, along with the various workarounds I implement for them…

My vulva ring by Catstache Accessories!

Issue #1: Clit Stim

If you’re interested in sex and don’t live under a rock, you’ve probably heard that folks with vulvas typically need clitoral stimulation to reach orgasm. The stats vary, depending on which study you look at, but it’s generally estimated that somewhere between two-thirds and nine-tenths of us need clit stim if an orgasm is gonna happen. And guess what? PIV’s not great at providing that.

My usual solution here is to use a vibrator on my clit while I get fucked. My faves for this purpose are the We-Vibe Tango, Eroscillator, and Magic Wand Rechargeable. Those first two are slim enough to fit well between bodies, making them ideal for PIV; the Magic Wand, on the other hand, is huge, but can be accommodated in certain positions.

Of course, this workaround requires that I’m fucking someone who I know is vibrator-positive, which, unfortunately, some people are not. My dalliances with those folks never last very long, for obvious reasons. Some partners (*cough* this guy) even seem to find it hot when I use vibes with them, and that makes them even lovelier in my eyes.

Some people prefer “couples’ vibes” – vibrators specifically made for usage during sex – for their hands-free ease. The We-Vibe Sync is the best one in this category, bar none. I like my Sync a lot, but for the most part, I prefer having the freedom to manipulate my vibe as needed with my own hand, because my clit is a picky snob.

There are other, non-vibrator-dependent ways to get clit stim during PIV: you can rub it with your hand, have your partner do so, or choose a position where their body rubs against yours in a way that works for you.

You could also just get your clit stim at other times during the sex session, and relax into PIV knowing it’s not gonna knock your clit’s socks off and that’s okay. That sounds defeatist, maybe, but it doesn’t have to be: I love PIV when I’ve already had an orgasm, for example, because that’s when my G-spot is the most sensitive. I don’t even feel like I need clit stim at that point, because I’ve already gotten off and the G-spot stim feels so amazing.

My friend Bex also taught me that sometimes, having your clit ignored during PIV can be hot as part of a kink dynamic, if, for example, a partner is “using” you for their own pleasure or deviously denying you an orgasm.

Issue #2: Stamina and Time

Getting off takes time. There is some evidence that this is truer for folks with vulvas than for folks with penises, though some people claim this science is sexist claptrap. In any case, I certainly don’t come in thirty seconds. And while a partner might happily stroke my clit or fuck me with a toy for ten or twenty minutes, it’s usually more strenuous for them to fuck me with their dick for that long. Depending on the position, PIV can be a physical exertion, not to mention, sometimes a partner comes before I do, and then we have to stop. Right?

Well, not exactly. If a partner comes but I haven’t yet, we can (and often do) take a quick break and then get back into the sexy stuff. They may not be able to keep fucking me so soon after coming, but they can certainly get me off with toys, their hands, and/or their mouth – or they can just hold me and say filthy things in my ear while I get myself off.

I actually prefer to get off before intercourse, though – both because it makes my internal spots more sensitive, as I mentioned earlier, and because it takes the pressure off me to come while getting fucked. There’s a scene in The L Word where Alice bemoans lesbians’ “You do me, then I do you” sexual style; she says straight people have it easier because you both get off from the same act, at the same time. But that hasn’t been my experience with hetero sex at all. Not only is it tricky to sync up your orgasms, but it’s also hard for your partner to focus on pleasing you properly if they’re coming at the same time, and vice versa. I like to continue getting fucked really hard, and in precise ways, during and after my orgasm, and my beau can’t pull that off if they’re in the throes along with me!

If I’m specifically hankerin’ to come all over a cock, usually I’ll have a partner get me suuuuper riled up before the actual penetration begins. If I’m at an 8 when he starts fucking me, but he’s only at a 3, it’s likelier he’ll last long enough to get me off and keep fucking me for a few minutes afterward. Ahh, bliss!

Diagram via Wikipedia Commons.

Issue #3: Specific Spots

Stimulation of my anterior fornix, or A-spot, is the thing that makes me come (in combination with consistent clit stim). I wish I’d known this from the beginning of my PIV adventures, so I would’ve been able to tell partners how to get me off, or would’ve at least felt less “broken” when PIV didn’t immediately send me into orgasmic ecstasy.

Because the A-spot is situated pretty deep inside the vagina, I’m likeliest to reach orgasm during PIV if the dick involved is in the 6–7″ length range. (Longer than that would just be overkill: doable, but not needed.) It also helps if the dick’s girth is average or slightly slimmer than average, because thick cocks have a hard time gettin’ up in there.

In my experience, when most dudes fuck a vag, by default they fuck it however feels good for them, or they vaguely aim for the G-spot. That’s fine, but I get better results if I specifically tell partners I like to be fucked really deep. Even better if I let them find the spot with their fingers first, so they know exactly what to aim for.

My FWB has gotten me off with fingers and toys countless times, so he knows my A-spot like the back of his hand, so to speak. We don’t partake of PIV all that often, but when we do, I always notice him carefully shifting and angling and pressing and exploring until he finds the right spot with his dick. Honestly, that attention to detail makes me swoon – and makes me come. There is something so hot about knowing that someone not only wants to get you off but is using their brain and body in clever tandem to make it happen.

If PIV has always felt kinda “meh” for you, but you know that you like certain types of penetration, it might be worth figuring out how to replicate your preferred penetration techniques during PIV. Back when I was more into G-spot stimulation, for example, I used to love doggie-style sex for how it directly targeted that spot. I also find that pillows or a Liberator Jaz under my hips help enormously with angling a dick how I want it.

Issue #4: Penetration-centrism

Last summer I dated a boy who was amazing in bed, kinky, adventurous, and could make me come in a variety of ways, without making me feel guilty or weird about any of it. It’s surprising how rare this combination of qualities is.

However, a few weeks into our blowjob-heavy and cunnilingus-soaked tryst, we were sexting, and he remarked, “I still haven’t really been inside you yet…”

His fingers had been inside me. His tongue had been inside me. His dick had been in my mouth. But no, it had not been inside my vagina. I didn’t really care, and until that text, I thought he didn’t much care, either.

While I can’t tell you exactly what he meant or what he was thinking, I have seen a penetration-centric paradigm in many of my male partners. There is a sense that sex isn’t really sex unless a cock enters a vag. A stat in the book Becoming Cliterate exemplifies this perfectly: apparently two-thirds of women consider it sex when someone goes down on them, but only one-third of men consider it sex when they go down on someone. Fuck that noise! Oral sex is sex! And so are a lot of other non-penetrative sex acts.

I believe fiercely in the “campsite rule,” i.e. the idea that you should leave your romantic and sexual partners better than you found them. One of the ways I try to do this is by teaching straight cis men that intercourse isn’t actually the centre of the goddamn universe. If it’s vitally important to them, then fine, I’m happy to do it, but I need them to know that it’s not vitally important to me. Depending on my mood, I can be perfectly sated by a sex session that consists solely of oral sex, fingerbanging, and/or playing with toys. Hell, sometimes a terrific spanking feels like a complete sexual encounter in and of itself.

Enthusiastic and intentional statements of desire are a great way to establish this attitude. “I can’t wait to suck your cock until you come in my mouth tonight,” I might text, or, “I’m charging my Magic Wand right now and I want two of your thick fingers inside me later,” denoting a sexual encounter that has a beginning, a middle, and an end, none of which necessarily involve PIV.

Issue #5: My Face

I have so much anxiety about how my face looks during sex. I don’t entirely know why. Partners have told me on multiple occasions that I look cute/hot/beautiful while they’re bangin’ me, that I have nothing to worry about, and that they find me sexy as hell. But somehow, it still hasn’t entirely sunk in. Maybe it never will.

Sometimes I deal with this by getting fucked in positions where I’m facing away from my partner – but these aren’t ideal because I have a hard time coming if I’m on my knees or standing up, and it’s tricky to fit a vibe between my clit and the mattress when I’m face-down. To my chagrin for both anxiety reasons and kink reasons, good ol’ missionary is still my most orgasmic PIV position.

I often end up covering my face while getting fucked in missionary; I’ll sling an arm over my eyes, nuzzle sideways into a pillow, or pull my partner down closer to me so they can’t look me right in the fuckin’ face. All of these strategies help somewhat. But what helps a lot is a blindfold. It’s a juvenile solution that evokes toddlers who think you can’t see them if they can’t see you, but hey, it works for me. Something about being blindfolded helps me feel more relaxed about how my face looks, even as it’s twisting into a pre-orgasmic grimace.

I’ll never forget the time my FWB was fucking me in a hotel room and I was suddenly overcome with face-related anxiety. “I need a blindfold,” I said, helplessly. “That’s kind of weird, but okay,” he replied with kindness in his voice – and without missing a beat, he stripped the pillowcase off a nearby pillow, draped it over my eyes, and kept fucking me. And all was well with the world.


What are your best tips ‘n’ tricks for making PIV more enjoyable? Do you agree with me that millennials seem less enthused about it, on average, than previous generations?

On Men, Ren, and a Devastated Community

Question: “What man would you be most devastated to learn had secretly been a misogynist all along?”

Answer: My brother. My closest male friends. My favorite male podcasters. My favorite male musicians. Male theatre actors I’ve cried over and crushed on. The cast of Whose Line Is It Anyway.

A seemingly-progressive friend-with-benefits who talked the talk of sex-positivity and consensual kink. Oh wait, that happened already. A seemingly-progressive radio personality I once found charming. Oh wait, that happened already. A seemingly-progressive photographer who once shot pictures of me naked and having sex. Oh wait, that just happened.

In a world where men didn’t systematically hold far more power than women, where men’s abuse of women was as harshly stigmatized and fairly punished as it deserves to be, and where male hatred of women was not a widespread cultural problem, this question would be nothing more than a harmless hypothetical. But since we don’t live in that world, it’s a terrifying question to me. Every time another seemingly “good,” “safe” man is revealed to be toxic garbage, I can’t help but wonder: Who’s next? Who else will betray us? Who else will break our hearts?

The first night I remember meeting Ren Bostelaar in person, it was for a porn shoot for a feminist porn collective owned by some friends of mine. (They’ve since cut ties with him.) I remember, very clearly, that he asked me if I would be comfortable receiving some direction from him during the shoot – if, for example, he needed me to move a leg or turn my head so he could get a better shot. I was charmed that he asked this, and that he was (or seemed) so respectful, so conscientious a photographer. I said yes, of course that was okay. He didn’t give me any direction during the shoot after all, but that interaction stuck with me. He’s a good guy, I remember thinking.

Later, when he sent me the photos, I was delighted. He’d made me look great, and thereby, feel great. I told him so. “I’m so glad you like them!” he replied. Again, I thought: He’s a good guy.

Friends of mine liked him – progressive, feminist friends who I admired and whose opinions I trusted. Any time he was brought up in conversation, people spoke well of him. He’s a good guy. This is the thing about abusers, of all sorts: they are highly skilled at convincing people of their goodness. They are charming and persuasive. They know how to work a room, how to get people in their sway, and they do it amazingly well and often.

In the feminist and sex-positive communities I’ve been a part of, women rely heavily on other women’s testimonials about men in order to know which ones can and cannot be trusted. Men who are widely vetted as “good guys” usually attain that honor through consistently being good: supporting women, listening to us, calling out shitty dudes, speaking out in defense of feminism and women, and so on. It is understood that being a male ally is achievable only through consistent action, not just words. We watch carefully to see which men do what – and which men don’t do anything when they ought to do something. This information is always noted, assessed, and discussed in backchannels. It is a way we endeavor, as women, to keep ourselves and each other safe.

What’s devastating is that even men who’ve been widely vetted as “good,” like Ren, can turn out to be very much not so. Can turn out to have – in this case – leaked women’s private nude photos and personal information onto a “misogynistic cesspool of the internet.” We do all this careful screening and watching and weeding-out, and it can all be meaningless in the end, because people’s outward personas can look entirely different from the hate and rage swirling inside them.

This is why many women I know, myself included, have been tweeting/posting/saying lately that we feel we can’t trust men right now. Because even the men who seemed the most trustworthy can fail us. This is not unreasonable. If a panel of esteemed marine biologists told me a particular bay was safe to swim in, but then I saw someone get mauled by a shark in said bay, there’s no fuckin’ way I would set foot in that bay ever again, scientists be damned. This is not discrimination, unfair generalization, or unreasonable paranoia. This is pragmatism. This is self-protection. This is learning from experience.

I’m not saying there are no men I trust, or that I’ll never trust a man again, or that I believe all men to be inherently untrustworthy. I’m just saying, I and many other women in my community feel we need to be careful about men right now, and going forward. Even more careful than we had previously been about men, which was pretty damn careful.

Men: we do not need your loud proclamations of #NotAllMen, your privilege-blind demand that we consider all men innocent until proven otherwise, or your hindsight-20/20 insistence that you knew the creep was a creep before his creepiness went public. We need, instead, your support, your action, and your resolve. We need you to call out misogyny when you see it in your social spheres, to examine and unlearn your own misogyny when it comes up, and to listen to the concerns and frustrations of women.

To return to my shark metaphor: we don’t need you yelling at us about how the water’s fine. We need you lifeguarding, patrolling the water, and ready to take down a shark when the time comes.

Review: Fuze Foreman

“If my dick was a dildo, would you give it a good review?”

You can file this question under “things people ask sex toy reviewers that they would never think to ask anyone else.” You can also file it under “questions you should think carefully before answering truthfully.”

‘Cause let’s be real. Flesh-and-blood penises rarely hit my G-spot unrelentingly like the Pure Wand, stroke my A-spot thrillingly like the Tsunami, or fill me up like the Eleven. They don’t, because they can’t. It would be physiologically unthinkable. And that’s fine. Dicks are fantastic, and sex toys are fantastic, and there’s not a perfect overlap between their arenas of usefulness, but of course there wouldn’t be. Sex toys don’t respond to the touch of my tongue, moan in my ear, read my responses to discern what I’ll want next, call me a good girl, or smack me around. Sex toys are not the partner I want; they are tools that can be used by me, or by my partner(s), to give me particular sensations that I want. Human beings are more than the physical sensations they provide.

I bring this up to help explain: if the Fuze Foreman was a flesh-and-blood dick attached to someone I liked – or even a strap-on dick worn by someone I liked – I would adore it. But it’s not; it’s a piece of silicone I fuck myself with, and I have different standards for those than I do for phalluses cute people fuck me with.

In my orgasm spreadsheet (nerd!), the Foreman only appears in the “dildo” column alongside other dildos, never by itself. The reason for this: I get bored of it quickly, and switch to other toys in due course. Its 1.43″ diameter is small compared to the dildos I love most, and with just 5.5″ of useable length, it barely grazes my A-spot and can’t consistently stroke it in the way that I like.

It’s designed to look like an uncircumcised penis. Aesthetically, I appreciate this; in use, not so much. The “foreskin” makes the head of this dildo smoother and less pronounced than more G-spotty realistic dildos, so there’s none of that popping sensation that a more defined head provides for my G-spot. The Foreman feels okay, especially if I’m fantasizing about getting fucked by someone mega-cute, but there are so many other options that feel so much better to me. My vagina is a busy lady and has no time for subpar penetration.

However, I’m an optimist (a cocktimist?), so I found a silver lining: I loooove the Foreman for blowjobs. If you are in the market for a dildo to put in your mouth – whether it’s going to be strapped onto someone else at the time, or you just want the solo sensory satisfaction of suckin’ on a dong – realistic Fuze dildos are some of my favorites to suggest. The glossy-versus-matte ratio of their silicone feels fairly realistic, especially when wet and heated, and the various veins and imperfections are a treat for the tongue. I’ve been practicing my deepthroating on the Foreman recently, and it gives me a lot of the same pleasure I get from blowing a human. Plus it looks remarkably realistic in beej-themed cam shows and Snapchat clips.

Like many Fuze dildos, the Foreman is also optimized for strap-on play. It’s designed to angle upward in the way erect factory-installed dicks often do, and it’s got a ridged base so the wearer gets some clitoral friction during use. It’s even got a little hole at the base that a bullet vibe can go into… although, honestly, I mostly use that as a finger-hole while blowing this dildo, like it’s a bowling ball. (Or a “blowing” ball?! Har-de-har-har…)

When I want to get properly fucked by a silicone dick, I’ll still reach for my Mustang, Maverick, Sam, or Uncut. They all hit my spots more accurately and fill me up more satisfyingly than the Foreman does. But when I’m in the mood to suck a cock and there are no flesh-and-blood ones immediately available to me, I’m likelier to grab the Fuze Foreman than any of those other ones. It fits in my mouth like a dream. And it even shares a name with a certain hot doctor from House, M.D.!


Thanks very much to SheVibe for sending me this product to review!

Links & Hijinks: Blowjobs, Dopamine, & Carmen Miranda

• Girl on the Net wrote about rediscovering the real joy of sex after stressing yourself out thinking that sex “should” be joyful. I love pieces like this which acknowledge the sometimes unglamorous realities of sex, which many people feel broken for experiencing.

• Here’s some men talking about their sex toys. There’s lots to like about this article, but I particularly lost my shit over this line: “Men can orgasm at the drop of a hat, generally speaking (at least if it’s a particularly sexy hat — I’m thinking a Carmen Miranda fruit hat, that big wide-brimmed one Beyonce wears in the Formation video, one of those ones that has a beer can on either side).”

• Is mocking a man’s small dick on par with the body-shaming experienced by women? To me, the answer is “obviously yes,” but this article is still worth a read, if just for the absurd story therein about two Instagram models whose post-breakup drama played out online in the form of passive-aggressive dick snipes.

• “I can’t stop thinking about penetration” is one of the best opening sentences I’ve read in a while. Here, the Establishment’s Katie Tandy writes beautifully about penis envy and power dynamics.

• The great Alana Hope Levinson’s thoughts on “the cuckboi” made me shriek with laughter. “The cuckboi understands that there’s no ethical consumption under capitalism, unless you’re eating pussy.” TOO GOOD.

• On the loquacious raving and “intrusive thinking” that happens when you have a new crush: “When the object of your desire isn’t around, and therefore you lack that dopamine rush in your brain, you might feel like you’re in withdrawal. So, you may try to achieve small dopamine rushes from talking about your crush to your friends.” Gawd, I am so guilty of this. Sorry, friends.

• My bestie wrote about why they love blowjobs*sigh* Why am I not blowing anyone right now?! (Well… this post was prewritten and queued up in advance, so I guess it’s possible I am blowing someone right now, as you read this. Who can say?)

• Bex also wrote about sex ed, sex-positivity, and meeting people where they’re at. I love this. I’ve only been working in sex toy retail for two months but I already feel like I’ve learned so much about these concepts from working on the “front lines.”

• This piece on anxiety and productivity is haunting and important. Read this if the current state of the world makes you anxious and so do thoughts of resisting, standing up for what matters, making change.

Trans kink porn is important! God, this article reeeeeally made me want to watch The Training of Poe…

• Depression may actually have a positive evolutionary purpose. Certainly puts things in perspective! “This framing of depression as a space for reflection is empowering, and lends a degree of agency to the person being pressed down,” Drake Baer writes. “Like anxiety, depression might be trying to tell you something.”

• A “boyfriend dick” is the kind of dick you could see yourself settling down with. I must say, though, I prefer the more gender-inclusive phrase “good dick,” which really says it all! (Incase it wasn’t obvious: the concept of a “good dick” is very subjective. Please don’t worry about whether your dick is good or not. If you keep it clean and use it respectfully, there are lots of people who would consider it a “good dick,” I promise.)

• What happens when best friends control each other’s vibrators?! (I think me and Bex should try this sometime.)

• Maybe we need to reject body-positivity and embrace body-neutrality. I love this idea! “Neutrality is the freedom to go about your day without such a strong focus on your body,” says one of the people quoted in this article.

• JoEllen wrote some spot-on guidelines for having good, ethical casual sex.

• This piece about Trump and BDSM argues that consent education, and the communication skills one can learn through practicing kink, are more critical than ever in our current political climate. Interesting stuff.

• I loved this short piece about pain, mindfulness, and transcendence. It spins a whole world out of a few moments of intense (consensual) pain, which is indeed what those experiences feel like to me sometimes.