Author: Kate Sloan

23 Things I Learned About Sex & Relationships At Age 23

Kate Sloan

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Today’s my 24th birthday! It’s a good day to reflect on the past year, because I think 23 was my most transformative and educational year yet. I banged and dated a bunch of different people, and it was essentially a crash course in emotional maturity and sexual confidence. Here are 23 of the most valuable lessons I learned about sex and relationships over the past year!

  1. I have a DD/lg kink. I first noticed these feelings back in late 2014 when a hot lawyer inspired some surprising fantasies in my bad little brain. In November I started seeing a dude who was muuuch kinkier and more kink-experienced than me, and when I disclosed to him that I had burgeoning DD/lg fantasies, he knew exactly what to do with that information. I still vividly remember the time I sassily asked him why I should follow his instruction to jerk off for him and he said, “Because you’re a good little girl.” It was the first time anyone had ever said anything like that to me before, and my vagina did cartwheels.
  2. Terrible mental health days are terrible kink days. At least, for me. If I’m already feeling extremely shaky, anxious, or depressed, kink tends to just worsen my mood. I learned my lesson from the time in January when an intense spanking on an already-anxious day made me burst into tears and sob deeply for several minutes while my confused partner tried to comfort me.
  3. …but, kink can help with mental health. Paradoxical, yes – but for me, there’s a fine and important line between “too distraught to submit” and “just distraught enough that submitting will actually help.” Pain, punishment and praise can help shake me out of a poor mental health day, used judiciously with a trusted partner.
  4. I can have casual sex… with people I don’t really like. Sex tends to open up my emotional floodgates, intensifying any burgeoning crush-y feels that already exist there. I was able to have some casual, feels-free fuckbuddies this year, but only because we didn’t click romantically. This is useful info for me to know going forward, though it does mean I’m incapable of being “chill” with anyone I even remotely like.
  5. I like pain (in some places). I’ve dabbled in spanking over the years, but it wasn’t until age 23 that I really grasped how much pleasure I can get from pain. Getting my tits and/or ass slapped has become one of my favorite foreplay activities. I even like getting my hair pulled, a proclivity that used to mystify me.
  6. I love giving blowjobs. HOO BOY, this was a big theme of my year. My previous blowjob experience encompassed only one partner, and while he was lovely, his dick and my mouth just didn’t have chemistry. In broadening my BJ horizons, I’ve discovered how much I can crave having a cock in my mouth when the right one comes along. (I’ve gotten pretty damn good at it, too.)
  7. I’m more of a size queen than I thought. Remember when I first started this blog and dildos over 1.5″ in diameter were a stretch for me? That is certainly not the case anymore… Just ask my Eleven, Double Trouble, and Seaside Steamroller!
  8. I need to trust my intuition more. My anxiety is excellent at talking me out of what I know, deep down, to be true. When I let myself listen to my hunches, I can usually tell when someone is flirting with me, likes me, or wants to get in my pants – and it happens more often than my anxiety wants me to realize.
  9. Aftercare is important. Coming from a pretty vanilla history, I never thought much about the importance of aftercare until I really needed it. Fortunately, all my kinky partners this past year (and even the vanilla ones) gave me the post-sex cuddles and reassurances I needed.
  10. Most men like thigh-high socks. They just do.
  11. Sex is grown-up playtime. My favorite sex is the goofy, unstructured kind. I love trying stuff, experimenting, playing around. I’m happiest in sexual partnerships with people who are similarly fun-oriented, rather than goal-oriented.
  12. I like being pinned down. Have you ever had a moment where, suddenly and all at once, you noticed a kink of yours that you never knew you had? That was me last summer when a partner put a firm hand on my upper chest and held me down while finger-fucking me. I went from “huh, that feels pretty good” to “holy shit, I am coming right now!” in about three seconds flat. I’ve been pinned down during sex a bunch of times since then, with similar outcomes. Now that I know I like this, I want to get better at asking for it!
  13. Threesomes are fun, but not really my jam. I’ve gained a reputation among my friends for constantly having threesomes. I’ve only had two, but I guess that’s still more than the average person? In any case, while I enjoyed myself both times, I still prefer the intense, focused connection of a standard one-on-one encounter. (Talk to me in a month, though… I have a rather epic threesome coming up on my calendar that might get me more on board with group sex.)
  14. When you’re sad, sometimes you just gotta feel your feelings. A couple of painful rejections left me in emotional shambles at times this year. I spent a lot of time crying on friends’ shoulders and saying things like, “I’m just so sad! I don’t know what to do!” My friends are fantastic and a lot of the advice they gave me boiled down to this: it’s okay to be sad when sad shit happens. Don’t try to run away from those feelings or distract yourself from them; just live in them for a while. It’s so much easier to move on when you’ve processed your feelings properly.
  15. You can like someone very, very much and they can still be wrong for you. You are not obligated to try to “make things work” with someone who’s a deeply bad match for you. Even if they’re a good person. Even if you adore them in many ways. Even if they don’t understand your reasoning.
  16. Platonic kink is a thing. I learned so much about kink this year, including that it can exist independently of sex. I have friends who fuel me by calling me a “good girl” when I finish my work; I have friends who phone me and speak to me in commanding, daddy-dom tones to calm me down when I’m anxious; I have friends whose kinks I know intimately and (consensually) use to guide them into healthier and happier behaviors. Kink is more than a sexual interest; it can be a psychological tool, a powerful motivator, a framework in which to understand yourself and your place in the world.
  17. Twitter is a great place to meet sexual partners. Half of the new people I banged at age 23 are folks I met on Twitter. Obviously it’s a problematic space and women receive a lot of harassment and abuse through tweets and DMs, but I’ve also built an audience there of clever, compassionate sex nerds, some of whom are pretty great sex partners.
  18. When you like someone, it’s okay to act like you like them. My anxiety makes this tricky, because even the smallest braveries feel like ballsy overtures to me. But I’m working on it. More people should know that they’re cute, and I should tell ’em.
  19. Don’t stake your mood on other people’s behavior. Most of my miserable-est days this year were the result of me believing, “If [person] would just [action], I could be happy right now.” I learned that I need to either change my expectations, or try to make things happen myself; waiting for someone else to read your mind and do what you want them to do is a fool’s errand.
  20. Anxiety-friends are invaluable flirting sherpas. This is no joke: I owe most of my romantic and sexual success this past year to Bex. Any time I didn’t know how to interpret a romantic interest’s flirty behavior, or couldn’t parse a cryptic text, or needed a push in a flirty direction, I went to them for advice. I have other “anxiety-friends,” too, who are willing and able to answer texts like, “[Person] said [thing], are they into me?!” and “What do I wear to a date-that-might-not-be-a-date?!”
  21. I like anal sex. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about it, because my past adventures with butt plugs and anal beads had been inconsistently pleasurable. But, holy fuck, I was into it and I want to do it more.
  22. I don’t need (or want) monogamy, but I do need to feel special. I don’t mind having partners who have other partners. (Yay, #PolyLyfe and compersion!) But I do need my partners to make me feel valued, seen, and focused on when we spend time together. I received a few propositions this year from folks who date/bang a lot of people, and I learned that that only ever feels okay to me if they clearly like me for me – not because they like dating/banging whoever. I’m definitely not anti-promiscuity and there’s nothing wrong with being slutty! I just need a side order of emotional connection with my sluttiness.
  23. Life is too short for bad sex. I believe there are two main ways to be bad at sex: you can be bad at technical skills (“He kisses like a snake!” “Her fingering rhythm is inconsistent!”), and you can have a bad attitude about sex (“He refused to use toys on me!” “She got all sulky when she couldn’t get me off!”). I’d rather be with an enthusiastic newbie than a mopey pro any day. If you’re fun to bone, I’ll probably gladly teach you how I like to be fucked so you’ll know for next time – but if you’re a sad and draining lay, there probably won’t be a “next time.” I’ve raised my standards enough to say no to bad sex – because, frankly, I’d rather just masturbate.

 

Here’s to another sexy, educational year!

It’s Okay to Break Up Because of Sex

Kate Sloan

It’s funny how you can entrench yourself so firmly in positivity and still get sucked into the vortex of shame from time to time.

I’m a sex-positive person. I live and work and socialize with almost exclusively other sex-positive people. So I know that having sexual desires is normal and acceptable.

And yet it only took a few weeks of constant sexual rejection to send me back to square one: profound embarrassment about being a sexual person.

Let me explain. I dated someone recently who was way, way lower on the sexual-desire-o-meter than I am. In fact, he seemed to conceptualize sex in a totally different way than I do. He talked about it as if it were a favor he did for me, that gave him no direct pleasure except in the way that it’s satisfying to give a loved one a backrub or make them dinner.

In my lifelong path of learning about relationships, one trick I’ve picked up is that it’s usually a bad idea to use “blame language.” It would be fallacious of me to say that this man “made me feel bad about myself,” since he wasn’t actively, maliciously choosing to do that. He was just living his truth – which happened to involve a far lower libido than what exists in my truth – and that took an emotional toll on me. I certainly don’t blame people with low desire levels for being that way. I just think that folks should be paired up with partners whose frequency and content of desire is roughly equivalent to their own.

When my relationship actually started to make me feel ugly and unsexy, that’s when my friends drew the line. “You have to break up with him,” they all told me, one after the next, when I shared my story privately on coffee dates or nights out at the bar. They saw my situation with the clarity and objectivity that I could not. I kept making excuses: “I like him so much, other than this one little thing!” “I think I can get him to come around!” “We’re non-monogamous, so I can always get sex elsewhere!”

I see now that part of me believed it’s not okay to break up with someone over sex. That it’s too small a reason, too unimportant a factor. That “the actual relationship” should be weighted more heavily in your decision than the sex ever would.

That is such bullshit, though. Sex is part of “the actual relationship.” Because it’s a fucking huge factor – for some people. And if sex is important to even just one person in a relationship, it matters in the grand scheme of things. Don’t let anyone tell you sex “isn’t a big deal” or “shouldn’t be that important” if it is to you. Only you get to decide the role and significance of sex in your life, and in your relationships.

The language my boyfriend used about sex started to creep into the way I thought about it, too. His go-to initiation (the rare times he did initiate) was, “I think we should get you off tonight.” The way he phrased it, it was like he didn’t view sex as a shared experience, a mutual delight, a bonding tool; it was merely a means to an end, and the end was my orgasm. Basically so that I would be satisfied, shut up about sex and quit bugging him for it. Or at least, that’s the feeling I got from him.

There’s nothing wrong with giving orgasms, or with wanting them. But this paradigm started to make me feel like it was selfish for me to want sex, because the only end result of our sex together was my pleasure. Viewed in that light, it seemed ridiculous for me to end the relationship in search of greater sexual compatibility. Did I just want to get my rocks off wherever I could? Was my nymphomaniacal hunger so great that I would throw away an otherwise good relationship to get that need met?

The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized how wrong this view is. For me, sex with a partner isn’t just about getting off – if it were, I’d simply masturbate instead, since that’s a more reliable way to make that happen. No, sex is one of the main ways I connect with partners, express my affection, and feel that affection mirrored back at me. It is absolutely crucial to my experience of romantic intimacy. Without it, I just don’t feel that I’m truly giving love, or receiving it. You can flood me with attention in all four of the other love languages, but without sex, it feels to me like a portrait that’s missing its subject. All of the pleasant peripheral details, with no central focus to hold the image together.

Viewed this way, it seems obvious that my relationship needed to end. Our problem was more than a fixable breakdown in communication; it was a full-on, hard-wired mismatch in the way we communicate. If we stayed together, “giving me” sex would continue to make him feel resentful and awkward, and being chronically denied sex would continue to make me feel rejected and unattractive. A pairing like that is destined to shatter. No one can or should suppress the ways they express and experience love; they should just seek out other people who express and experience it in similar ways.

Through this whole process, no one ever actually said to me, “Sex isn’t a good enough reason to break up with him.” In fact, my friends continually pointed out that sex is a good enough reason, even if there were no other reasons (and there were). It was just the slut-shamey voice inside my own head that parroted this sentiment at me – and, to a lesser extent, the words of my boyfriend, when he said judgmental things like “It seems like sex is the most important thing in a relationship for you” and “I wish you wouldn’t make everything about sex all the time.”

Since I’m conventionally unattractive (i.e. chubby and kinda weird-looking), there is a part of me that believes I should “take what I can get.” That a good-enough relationship is good enough. That I shouldn’t push for all the things I want in a partner, because there’s no way I’ll get them. That I should feel blessed when any man is attracted to me, even if our relationship is a daily trainwreck.

It was only once I surfaced from this shitty relationship, and looked at my life with fresh eyes again, that I remembered: Oh yeah. Lots of people are attracted to me. Many of whom are pretty damn compatible with me, including in the way we think about sex. And I do deserve good sex. And it is okay to make that a priority. And that doesn’t mean I’m a pathological perv – it just means I’m a human with a sex drive.

If you’re thinking about breaking up with a partner because the sex is bad, infrequent, or otherwise unsatisfying, I hereby give you permission to do so. Consider it carefully – because, as my slightly shamey ex-boyfriend told me repeatedly, there are other factors to consider besides sex – but also consider that a bad sexual connection can be the bad apple that spoils the barrel. If sex is a baseline need for you, you’re not going to be truly, fully happy in a relationship where the sex doesn’t work. That doesn’t mean you’re selfish or fucked-up or have a one-track mind, so don’t let anyone tell you it does.

You are allowed to want sex. You are allowed to want a partner who wants the same kinds of sex that you do. You are allowed to pursue that kind of partner, even if it means making a radical shift in your life. Like Oprah says: live your best life now.

5 Mouthwatering Blowjob Porn Scenes

Kate Sloan

It’s no secret that I have a thing for blowjob porn. It’s been a consistent favorite genre of mine for the past five years or so. While I occasionally scroll through other categories on porn sites, I’ve learned by now that if I want a quick and certain orgasm, I should load up a blowjob scene.

For a long time, this didn’t make sense to me. I wasn’t particularly partial to giving BJs in real life, so I couldn’t figure out why I was so drawn to them in porn. But then I found partners whose dicks were compatible with my mouth, got over some of my old BJ anxieties, and realized I actually love giving head – when the dynamic is right and I’m in the right headspace, so to speak.

And guess what? That realization made me even more obsessed with BJ porn. So I’ve partnered with Pornspot to show you five of my favorite blowjob scenes from their site!

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“Sexy Brunette Gets Fucked During Her Massage” is a nice relaxing clip that depicts what is one of my recurring fantasies: a “happy ending” massage. But because this is mainstream porn, and mainstream porn rarely centers female pleasure, there’s a blowjob too. (Good thing I like those, huh?)

I’d be more into this if there was more dialogue. The reason masseuse-sex is my fantasy jam is that it involves someone who’s otherwise incredibly professional but just can’t resist the carnal pull of their client – so it would have amped up my arousal to have a little more reticence and uncertainty from the masseuse, at least at first. But, y’know… he’s got a great dick, so, s’all good.

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“Slave Fucks His Queen in the Ass and Makes Her Cum” doesn’t sound like a BJ scene, but indeed, the aforementioned Queen blows her slave for a good long while in this clip. I found this scene interesting because it subverted the typical hetero-patriarchal idea that a blowjob is a subservient act of service a woman performs for a man. That’s the dynamic I prefer to inhabit (consensually!) when going down on someone, but it’s not the only option out there, obviously! And that should be reflected more often in porn.

I like that the blowjob in this scene feels like something the “Queen” genuinely wants to do. After all, she’s in power; she gets to call the shots. And indeed, at one point she says, “I need this dick. I want it.” It felt like she was tasting him for her own enjoyment, like a fine hors d’oeuvre at a royal soirée.

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“Busting a Nut in Her Mouth For Her to Swallow”… Man, what a mouthful of a title. (Heyoooo!) This video seems to have been shot by an amateur couple on their old-school webcam, and it’s cute as hell. The lady has fantastic hair that looks fun to pull. There are times when she seems bored or distracted, but to be fair, I was pretty distracted too, by the galloping horse on the wall behind her, so I can’t even talk. And she finishes the beej with aplomb.

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“Jenni Lee Getting a Surprise Cumshot in Mouth During Her Blowjob” is amateurishly shot and badly lit, but it’s still one of the hottest clips in this list, IMO. The giver seems genuinely enthusiastic about what she’s doing, and the receiver actually makes noise – hooray!

Enthusiasm is the main thing that turns me on in any kind of porn, but especially porn involving oral sex. It’s hot to be that enthused about another person’s genitals, and it’s hot to get head from someone who is that enthused. I feel like this clip encapsulates that hotness!

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“Mork Eats Ass and Gets a Blowjob for the First Time” is, indeed, what it sounds like: a scene from a Mork and Mindy porn parody. It features Evan Stone as Mork, and he does an admirable job of channelling Robin Williams’ zany, iconic character while fucking the shit out of his lady-friend.

The highlight of the blowjob is Mork singing operatic notes in pleasure, and then making Mindy sing too. So adorable! And, naturally, he keeps his curly wig and rainbow suspenders on for the whole damn scene.

 

What are your favorite blowjob clips? (No, seriously, tell me. I need BJ porn to survive.)

Thanks to Pornspot for sponsoring this post!

Monthly Faves: Hickeys, Hankies, Collars & Community

Kate Sloan

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Like last month, this was a tough one for me: my mood disorders were all over the place and I found it difficult to function a lot of the time. Luckily, sex stuff (especially certain types of kink) is helpful to me in that regard. Hooray for sexual healing!

 

Sex toys

• I’m never getting over the Double Trouble. It provides the most consistent and fulfilling A-spot stimulation of any toy I’ve ever used. (But, secret confession: it still doesn’t hit the spot quite as well as my partner’s fingers.)

• While I’m still annoyed with the controls scheme of the Shibari Mini Halo Wand, it nonetheless got a lot of love from me this month. Sometimes my clit craves rumbly vibrations in a shape smaller than the Hitachi but bigger than the Tango, and the Shibari Mini is ideal when that’s the mood I’m in.

• SheVibe sent me a green and yellow Godemiche Adam and it’s gorgeous. The super-defined coronal ridge doesn’t always agree with my vagina (more detail to come in my review), but I’m pretty into the toy’s dimensions. Plus it looks badass in my harness.

 

Fantasy fodder

• So, this is a new thing for me: I’ve been having fantasies about being collared and owned. Often these aren’t even sexual fantasies; I just take comfort sometimes in imagining myself being a dom person’s good little pet, sitting at their feet and attending to their needs. (Now I just need an Aslan collar… and a dom-y person to put it on me…)

• Currently my favorite thing is getting fucked – with fingers, a toy, or a dick; the tool itself is inconsequential – while being held down. Early this month, I went on a first date with someone who (at my behest) pounded me with my Eleven while putting steady weight on my upper chest with one hand, and, oh my god. Give me that, always, please.

• My new beau has a thing for hickeys. I used to love these back in high school, because they were tangible proof that I was liked; just spotting a hickey on myself in the mirror was enough to put a big goofy grin on my face. Now I wonder if that affection for hickeys was also a sign of my burgeoning kinks, because there is something about feeling “marked” that is so sexy to me now. My boyf likes to leave a purple mark of ownership in the middle of my chest, and I wear it like a badge of honor.

 

Sexcetera

• I bought some blue and pink bondage rope and have been learning some rope basics. This is a fun skill that I hope to explore more!

• I’m in a Facebook group for local kinksters and it’s the best. It’s reminding me of the importance of community, and of being around like-minded people, even just in a digital space. Plus there are a lottttt of hotties on there; holy fuck. Can I smooch all the dom cuties’ faces?!

• March 27th was my 4-year blogiversary. I didn’t write a celebratory post like I did last year or the year before, but rest assured: I love you all very very much and I’m grateful every day to have this platform and this community. Four years ago, it was my dream to write about sex for people as nerdy and passionate about sexuality as I am, and that wish has come true many times over. Thanks, babes!

 

Femme stuff

• My boyf gave me one of his flannel button-down shirts to wear. It’s soft, and warm, and wonderfully too-big on me. I love wearing clothes and accessories that were given to me by people who care about me, especially at times of emotional distress, because it reminds me that I’m capable of being adored. I spent many a stressed-out day this month snuggled up in my beau’s cozy shirt, thrown over a nightgown or a T-shirt or nothing at all.

• I was told to wear gold for the Smut in the 6ix promo shoot, so of course I made a trip to American Apparel immediately. (It is the place to find over-the-top, porn-friendly clothes, don’tcha know.) I bought a ridiculous gold lamé halter bodysuit and it’s excellent.

• I recently acquired a light blue handkerchief and have been wearing it on my right wrist, as per the hanky code. Probably very, very few people I encounter even know what this means, but it gives me a private thrill nonetheless.

 

What were your faves this month, cuties?

Review: Fucking Sculptures Double Trouble

Kate Sloan

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Did someone break into the penthouse of my vagina and steal the blueprints? Because the Fucking Sculptures Double Trouble feels like it was designed just for me.

My vagina hungers for it. It can’t make up its mind which side is better. “Tonight I want the smaller side,” I’ll think, and insert that slightly slimmer end until it slides all up into my A-spot. That fuck-yeah feeling of deep pressure and rhythm seems like everything I could possibly want… until I remember that the toy’s other side exists.

I flip it around and push the big side into me, turning it sideways at first so it’ll fit. It finds my G-spot with alarming ease. It’s like a little fist, so round and firm, exerting pressure in places I didn’t even know I needed it. I rock it against my G-spot fast until I squirt, and still I want more. So I flip the toy back around. And again. And again.

This is how every session with my Double Trouble seems to go: a slow, jagged, delicious ascent toward orgasm, unable to decide what kind of stimulation the toy provides best. It’s the Renaissance man of my vagina. And it was appallingly expensive, but in the sticky heat of the moment, I don’t remember or care.

imageI first tried a Double Trouble at Bex‘s house. They were borrowing Caitlin‘s, which is the standard inky-black color that the DT usually comes in. While Bex and Penny chatted in the next room, I retreated to the air mattress Bex had set up for me in their office, pilfered some lube, and settled in with the Double Trouble. It felt luxurious and heavy and huge, and I didn’t think my vagina would like it as much as my eyes did, but I was wrong. I was also, admittedly, very drunk (I had been out cavorting with a friend earlier in the evening), which made me wonder if perhaps I was experiencing the toy with a rose-tinted vagina.

I immediately noticed that the A-spot stimulation I could get from the DT’s smaller end was excellent, and it made me come super hard in combination with my trusty Tango. But the larger end wouldn’t fit inside me at all, which I decided was a dealbreaker, especially given how expensive the toy is. It took a lot of willpower not to place a drunken order from the Fucking Sculptures website that very night, but those drawbacks were enough to keep me from hitting the “Add to Cart” button. (Well, let’s be real, I think I did hit “Add to Cart” but at least I didn’t hit “Check Out.”)

However, in subsequent months, I started to notice that all my favorite dildos du jour were massive and S-shaped. And I kept casting my mind back to that debauched night on Bex’s air mattress. On Twitter, I complained about not being able to afford the dildo of my dreams – and within 24 hours, I got booked for two cam shows with kindly horny men who wanted to fund my dildo habit in exchange for some saucy Skype time. The internet is magic, y’all.

imageMy lascivious benefactors only covered about half the cost of the toy, but that was enough to justify it for me – especially since Fucking Sculptures was having a sale at the time. I emailed Maria, co-owner of the company, to ask if she happened to have any Double Troubles left from the limited-edition, sky-blue “Dreamy Daze” batch that had been made back in May. As it turned out, she had exactly one left. And if you know me, you know that I love blue sex toys. So that sealed the deal. I ordered it on the spot.

Courtney Trouble has said that they designed the Double Trouble to be “a representation of a cunt from the inside out,” and that’s totally what it feels like to me. It fills the hungry void that my vagina sometimes becomes, and presses against the exact spots where I want pressure.

imageThe smaller end is the one I use the most – and I’m using the word “smaller” pretty loosely here, because it’s still big; it’s just more tapered and pointed, so it’s easy to insert even if I haven’t warmed myself up or used any lube. (My vagina is a professional, though, so your mileage may vary. Go forth and lubricate, my friends!) It has the mild curve and slightly narrowed tip that tends to work well for hitting my A-spot, and indeed, it does so fantastically. I just need to push down on the other end a little bit to get the angle right. I’ve even taught a few partners how to do this, and it seems to be a fairly easy toy to fuck someone with: despite how deep I like my Double Trouble inserted, I’ve yet to have a partner painfully bump my cervix with it, because the curve and taper are just right.

I like the bigger end too, but I have to be in the right mood for it. As I’ve mentioned here before, intense G-spot stimulation isn’t really my jam; sometimes I crave it but mostly I can take it or leave it. However, when that’s what I want, this end can totally deliver. It’s enormous and has no taper, so I have to turn it sideways to get it into me, but once it’s in, it’s comfortable (not like my so-intense-it’s-almost-painful Seaside Steamroller). The angle is not as drastic as something like the Seduction or Comet Wand, so the most adamant of G-spotting fans may not be pleased with it, but it works well for my body.

Fucking Sculptures makes their toys out of soda lime glass, which is heavier than the borosilicate often used for cheaper, mass-produced glass toys. As you might have noticed, the Double Trouble is gigantic, so it’s pretty heavy: about 1.75 lbs. I’m used to thrusting heavy toys (my beloved Eleven is 2.75 lbs) so this doesn’t bother me unless I’m using the toy for a long period of time and my muscles start to tire. But if you have any mobility or strength issues in your arms, wrists or hands, you will definitely hate the Double Trouble.

But me? I definitely love it. If my vagina and this dildo both had OkCupid accounts, their compatibility percentage would be 99%. And they would exchange flirty messages that quickly became explicit. And then they would go on a drinks-date, banter wittily for a few minutes, and retire to the Double Trouble‘s apartment for some raucous, sweaty sex.

 

You can buy the Double Trouble at SheVibe! And you should, ’cause it’s the fucking bomb!