Kate Sloan

Review: Tantus Uncut #1 (+ GIVEAWAY!)

July 20, 2015July 19, 2015Kate Sloan

When I give sex advice to youngins, one of the things I always tell them is, “You might think you know what you like and what you want, but once you actually start having sex, that might change completely.”

I say this because it’s a lesson I’ve learned countless times in my journey from virgin to pervert: don’t knock anything until you try it.

A particularly salient example of this is my attitude toward realistic dildos. When I was 15, 16, even 18, and the only sex I’d had was of the lesbian variety, I scoffed at cock-like dongs. I thought of penises as a necessary evil in hetero sex, a means to an end, an accessory to the main event. I got off most easily from a tongue on my clit, and figured that I’d just have to suffer through the other components of straight fucking. And part of me believed that all women felt that way. So who would ever need or want a realistic dildo?

Wow, how my opinion changed. Sometime around my 19th birthday, penis-in-vagina sex entered my sexual repertoire. And while there was definitely a learning curve, once my partner and I had figured out each other’s bodies, our PIV sex became fucking stellar. I still couldn’t (and can’t) get off from penetration alone, but it hardly mattered to me. I began to crave cock, just as I’d thought I never would.

All this to say: the Tantus Uncut #1 is the kind of dildo I would have hated at age 17, but that I absolutely love now.

The first time I put the Uncut #1 in my vag, I noticed that it felt a bit like my beloved Mustang – i.e. soft, squishy, but firm enough to please my G-spot. I’m not the only one who’s made this comparison. Tantus’ flexible dual-density O2 silicone pairs beautifully with the big juicy head on the Uncut #1, making for a dildo that feels real enough to indulge my PIV fantasies while also still feeling, y’know, like a great dildo.

Once, after a long wank sesh with the Uncut, I slid it out of me and fondled it, and I was amazed at how real it felt when it was all warm and wet. The skin-like texture and fleshy squish of this dildo make it one of the best nonporous realistic options on the market, right up there with the VixSkin line.

Dimensions-wise, the Uncut #1 is a bit strange. Its 1.75″ girth is perfect, but it has an insertable length of 7.45″, which is… excessive. Luckily, you don’t have to use the whole length (I never do, because I physically can’t), and those extra inches will be a blessing if you use this dildo for strap-on play, since harnesses shorten dildos’ useable length.

The shaft of the Uncut #1 features lots of veiny texture. I have to use more lube than usual for it to be comfortable, but then, I’m not much of a texture fan. Occasionally I get that “vaginal rugburn” feeling once the lube dries down a little, but usually at that point I’m halfway to orgasm and the pain mingles with pleasure so I just feel properly fucked rather than sore.

I don’t find that the Uncut targets any particular spots inside me. Its coronal ridge slides over my G-spot deliciously with every thrust, and it’s long enough that I get a little A-spot stimulation if I shove it in as deep as it’ll go, but neither spot gets a lot of stimulation from this toy. It’s more of an all-over sensation for my vagina – which still feels pretty excellent.

Overall I’m dazzled by what an excellent realistic dildo Tantus has created with the Uncut #1. I initially wanted it for the novelty factor – foreskins, yay! – so I didn’t expect it to be this terrific. High five, Tantus!

Now, here’s some exciting news… I am giving away an Uncut #1 to one lucky reader!

The lovely folks at Tantus gifted me two Uncuts, identical except for their color, and I decided to keep the mocha one – so the cocoa one is up for grabs! See the Rafflecopter widget below for deets on how you can enter.

Just so you know: this was a sample piece, so it won’t come in plastic packaging. (But don’t be alarmed: it hasn’t been used, obviously.) This giveaway is also only open to readers age 18+ from Canada and the U.S. Sorry, international friends!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

GJ Reads Grey, Chapter 3

July 18, 2015July 29, 2015Kate Sloan

Want to go back? Read the previous chapter or the first chapter.

Yes, it’s time. Let’s read some more of Grey: Fifty Shades of Grey as Told by Christian. Alright… Deep breath… Let’s go.

One of my fave things about Fifty Shades is E.L. James’ awkward attempts to set it in the U.S. despite having very little practical knowledge of her settings. Her characters consistently talk like Brits, in a way that’s glaring to any North American reader, and it’s hilarious. (Example: in this chapter, Ana says, “I’ve never left mainland USA.” Okay then.) James’ geographic ineptitude also shows up in her descriptions of locations. Chapter 3 starts out with Christian going on a jog in Portland, and he’s careful to explain that he jogs “down Southwest Salmon Street toward the Willamette River.” It reads a bit like a tourist brochure.

After his scenic jog along the Willamette, Christian returns to his hotel to get ready for his photoshoot with Ana et al. for Kate’s newspaper article.

Breakfast has been delivered and I’m famished. It’s not a feeling I tolerate – ever.

I vaguely remember from the first book (of which I admittedly only read half) that Christian has issues with food, presumably dating back to his time as the submissive of an abusive older woman. I’m intrigued to read more about this in Grey.

My hair is wet from my shower, but I don’t give a shit. One glance at the louche fucker in the mirror and I exit to follow Taylor to the elevator.

Uh. Couple things. A) I had to look up the word “louche.” Can’t say I’ve ever heard that one before. It means “disreputable or sordid in a rakish or appealing way,” which, yeah, that’s totally Christian. And B) WHAT A DOUCHE. (Which rhymes with louche, incidentally.) He thinks soooo highly of himself. It’s annoying as a character quality, but it also doesn’t ring true. Wouldn’t someone in his psychological position be more insecure than this? I’m no psychology expert, but… somehow I doubt E.L. James is one, either.

As the photoshoot begins, Grey gets introduced to Ana’s photographer friend José, and this interaction devolves into another one of Christian’s masculinity competitions for Ana’s affections. (At Drunk Feminist Films, we shouted “Broformance!” and took a drink every time this happened. We got hammered.)

Christian observes that Ana’s friend Kate is more active, engaged, and bossy than Ana, which apparently indicates that Ana is “a natural submissive.” Right, ’cause how someone acts at a weird publicity event with a bunch of strangers is a clear sign of how they like to have sex. Brilliant logic, Christian.

He asks her on a coffee date, and they hold hands on the way to the café. One of the most jarring things about the Fifty Shades movie, for me, was how quickly the characters ramped up to intimate physical contact – me and a gaggle of sex bloggers yelled at the screen when Christian started stroking Ana’s face on their first date, for example. I had forgotten that this weird forwardness happens in the books as well.

Ana tells him she wants tea with the bag on the side (?! what is the point of this?) and then Christian orders it for her, calling it “bag-out tea,” which made me laugh really hard and I’m not entirely sure why. He also orders her a muffin even though she explicitly tells him she doesn’t want anything to eat. More of Christian’s food issues here, plus one of the first instances of Christian directly ignoring one of Ana’s requests, which will be a recurring theme in this book.

I watch her dunk the teabag in the teapot. It’s an elaborate and messy spectacle. She fishes it out almost immediately and places the used teabag on her saucer. My mouth is twitching with my amusement. As she tells me she likes her tea weak and black, for a moment I think she’s describing what she likes in a man.

…What? …This whole passage is so fucking weird. I can’t even. What?!?

They chat over their coffee and tea for a bit, and Christian continues to refer to their budding relationship as a “deal” in his internal monologue, like this is a merger and not a date. Cool, yeah, your cold and businesslike approach to romance is really charming and not at all off-putting.

Their conversation is supposed to feel like flirty banter, I think, but E.L. James is the worst, so it reads like two British robots playing 20 Questions.

And it’s with great pleasure and a smirk that I remind her that she’s interviewed me already. “I can recollect some quite probing questions.” Yes. You asked me if I was gay.

I swear they have referenced that particular “misstep” at least four times so far. As if asking someone if he’s gay is the most horrible, embarrassing thing in the world. I am unsure what decade Christian thinks he’s living in.

“Do you always wear jeans?” I ask. “Mostly,” she says, and it’s two strikes against her: incurable romantic who only wears jeans… I like my women in skirts. I like them accessible.

KEEP YOUR JEANS ON, ANA.

Her body is pressed against mine, and the feel of her breasts and her heat through my shirt is arousing. She has a fresh, wholesome fragrance that reminds me of my grandfather’s apple orchard.

Is this supposed to be sexy?!

This is, by the way, the incongruous face-touching incident that I mentioned earlier. Ana almost walks out in front of a speeding cyclist, because she’s Such A Klutz!, and Christian saves her life or whatever, so now their bodies are touching. Yawn.

He almost kisses her, but then decides against it because Ana “wants hearts and flowers and [he doesn’t] do that shit.” He tells her to steer clear of him because he’s not a good match for her, and then immediately afterward, he says, “Breathe, Anastasia, breathe.” How arrogant is this fucker that he thinks his rejection caused her to stop breathing and start panicking?!

She disappears into the building, leaving in her wake a trace of regret, the memory of her beautiful blue eyes, and the scent of an apple orchard in the fall.

And so ends chapter 3, leaving in its wake a trace of louche douche, the memory of awkward face-touching, and the scent of bag-out tea.

Grey: Fifty Shades of Grey as Told by Christian

by E. L. James

Want to keep reading? Here’s the next instalment.

5 Journal Prompts for Better Body Image

July 16, 2015July 14, 2015Kate Sloan

Journaling saves my life on a regular basis. It’s my solace, my safety net. It’s the primary way I manage my anxiety, track my moods, and process my experiences. Any time someone compliments me for “having my shit together,” being “productive” or “organized,” or just being “such a positive person,” I want to tell them that it’s mostly due to my journaling habit. My daily scrawls and scribbles in ruled Moleskine notebooks are the psychological glue that holds me together.

One of the cool things about journaling is that you can use it to explore any facet of your psyche. Suck at relationships? Write until you discover the root of the problem. Hate your job? Rant about it til you feel better, and then brainstorm solutions. Listless and depressed? Make gratitude lists until the corners of your mouth turn up.

By that token, I recently assigned myself some journaling “homework” because my body image needed a serious tune-up. I figured I’d share the prompts with you so you can do ’em yourself – and I’m also sharing my responses, to get your mental gears turning.

1. What parts of your body have people told you they love?

My most recent ex often told me he loved my hips, squishy and wide though they may be. He also thought I had a beautiful vulva. He liked my face with no makeup on, but could also appreciate the artistry of my beloved winged liner and bright lipsticks.

My FWB in high school used to rave about my inner labia: how pretty and pink they are, and how soft and smooth they felt on her tongue. She loved my long, curly hair, my hazel eyes, and my full pink lips. And she, too, complimented my hips any chance she got.

I used to fret a lot about my nose, because it’s HUGE – Jew genes ahoy! – but friends have often told me that it suits my face and lends “character” to my appearance. Okay then.

When Penny shot semi-nudes of me in Oregon, she told me she liked my smouldering facial expressions. Some of the commenters on that post had nice things to say about my curves, which felt like such a relief after all the internalized fat-hatred I’ve been cruelly inflicting on myself lately. I am chubby and that’s okay!

2. What parts of your body do you love?

My princess hair. My long eyelashes and soft full lips. My distinctive nose. My neck and collarbone. My boobs, especially now that I’ve gained weight and they’re bigger! The little dip where my belly meets my mons. My labia and clit hood. The backs of my knees (they’re cute, and ticklish!).

3. What can your body do really well?

It can stay in yoga poses for long minutes at a time, and stretch out deliciously. It’s well-versed in masturbation, orgasms and handjobs! I am a world-class snuggler. I can roll my stomach muscles like a belly dancer. I’ve been told I’m a good kisser. And what my dancing lacks in technical skill, it makes up for in sheer enthusiasm!

4. What cool things has your body accomplished in the past?

I’ve played tennis and badminton until my arms ached and a euphoric grin rose on my face. I’ve contorted into weird poses, strutted across stages, and done countless trust falls in the course of my work as a competitive improvisor and improv coach. I once canoed from downtown to Toronto Island and back again (all while singing “John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt”!). I’ve had up to 5 orgasms in a day, and given some stellar HJs and BJs in my time. I’ve exhausted my fingers and vocal cords performing music for hours on end. I’ve hauled IKEA furniture home, dragged a 50-pound suitcase all around Portland, and carried a lazy cat up our three flights of stairs a million times. Once, I punched a boy in the stomach when he was physically blocking my path and being a creepy dipshit.

5. What cool things will your body accomplish in the future?

I hope to do dozens of sun salutations in the park, surrounded by other yogis. I want to swim in Lake Bernard and tread water with pals while laughing so hard I cry.

I want to fuck on top of a grand piano, have anal sex with someone I love and trust, squirt in someone’s face, and experience subspace – not necessarily all in one session (although that would be impressive).

One day I want to get so deep into meditation that I have an out-of-body experience – not because I want to leave my body, but because I think it would make me appreciate it even more.

Ask These 3 Questions & You Might Fall In Love

July 13, 2015July 13, 2015Kate Sloan

Earlier this year, the New York Times wrote about 36 questions that strangers can supposedly ask each other, which will make them fall in love real quick. You alternate asking each other the questions until you’ve gone through all 36, and then you stare into each other’s eyes silently for four whole minutes. By the end of this process, you’re sure to feel more connected to the other person, if not full-on in love.

I was reminded of this article when I last went to Body Pride, because, in the midst of sharing all these intimate emotional details with one another, I started to feel like I was… kinda falling in love.

Those feelings haven’t particularly persevered, but then again, those aren’t people that I see very regularly. I think that if you developed a crush because of the deep and sudden intimacy fostered in environments like Body Pride, and then you kept spending time with the person on a semi-regular basis, those initial crush-y feelings would inevitably develop into something deeper.

My questions are different from the ones suggested in the NYT article, but they have the same aim. I think if you asked someone these questions, and really listened to their answers, some kind of magic would happen.

1. What are you passionate about?

I can’t imagine a sexier quality than enthusiasm. Everyone reaches their peak cuteness when they’re talking about something they find fascinating and exciting. It doesn’t matter if it’s fashion, photography, blogging, bowling, triathlons, trigonometry, web design or witchcraft: if it turns their crank, then watching them talk about it will be a delight.

True, a relationship might not have long-term legs if the other person’s passion bores you. But if you can’t get excited about the topic of their tirade, you can at least get excited about the way their eyes light up and a smile blooms across their face while they ramble at you about fancy stationery or rock operas or whatever.

2. What are you insecure about?

As a culture, we’re obsessed with the notion that confidence is attractive. And it’s true, it is. But that doesn’t mean insecurity is always a turn-off.

In fact, talking frankly about your insecurities requires confidence, or at least bravery. Whining about your least favorite body parts isn’t hot; projecting your own shit onto other people isn’t hot; refusing to take any risks in life because you hate yourself isn’t hot – but owning up to your issues? That’s hot. Especially if owning up to them makes you decide to actually do something about them.

In my life, I’ve only had maybe two or three really open, honest conversations with people about our mutual insecurities. And far from whiny or boring, it was revelatory. There is something incredibly powerful, for your own self-image and for your relationship, about discovering that other people have the same bullshit negative self-talk that you do. Like the NYT article says: “mutual vulnerability fosters closeness.”

3. What was the last thing that made you laugh really, really hard?

Occasionally someone will try to tell you a story or a joke, but they’ll start laughing so hard that they can’t even finish a sentence. Their face goes red, their voice gets hoarse, maybe some tears stream down their cheeks. They keep going back to the beginning of the sentence to try and get through it, but they just can’t, and it’s hilarious.

It’s also fucking adorable.

We all spend most of our time fairly stoic, moving through the world in a calm and orderly way, even if we’re total freaks and weirdos underneath. When you meet a new beau, it might take several dates – or even several months – before you really break through that crust of composure and get to the kooky good stuff underneath.

But if you ask them about the last time they laughed so hard they couldn’t breathe, and then they tell you that story… you’ll get a little preview of their zaniness. A glimpse of how it looks when they let loose, lose control, lose their shit. And that’s cute as fuck.

Bonus reading: Alexandra Franzen has some good lists of 100 questions to spark conversation and connection + 10 of the best first date questions ever.

GJ Reads Grey, Chapter 2

July 11, 2015July 18, 2015Kate Sloan

Want to go back? Read the first chapter.

Time for more close-reading of Grey: Fifty Shades of Grey as Told by Christian. Are you banging your head against a desk yet?

You might remember that chapter 1 ended with Christian running a background check on Ana. (Ooh, how romaaaantic!) Chapter 2 begins with the results of that background check, including such riveting information as Ana’s birthdate, address, social security number, and bank balance. Yep, E.L. James sure knows how to pen a page-turner.

Christian pores over this information while sitting in his car in the parking lot of the hardware store where Ana works, because Christian is a fucking creep.

I’d tried to resist. I’d waited five days, five tedious days, to see if I’d forget about her. And I don’t do waiting. I hate waiting… for anything.

This doesn’t bode well for Christian’s grasp of the concept of consent – which sometimes involves (gasp!) waiting until someone is ready.

Christian briefly considers telling his therapist, Dr. Flynn, about his “lascivious” feelings for Ana, because he’s worried he’s “behaving like a stalker” (yes, Christian, I’m glad you figured that out). But he decides against this because he doesn’t want Flynn “hounding [him] about his latest solution-based-therapy shit.” Hey, Christian, I hate to break it to you, but solution-based therapy would probably do you a lot of good right about now.

This chapter brings us the first direct reference to Christian’s penis (oh joy). His “cock twitches in response” when he sees Ana sucking a bagel crumb off her finger at the hardware store counter. “Maybe this will stop if I fetter, fuck, and flog her,” he posits to himself. Uh, okay.

His opening line to her at the hardware store is, “Miss Steele. What a pleasant surprise,” which is pure frightening bullshit. He has sought her out at the random-ass shop where she works, in the creepiest possible way, and he’s trying to convince her it’s a coincidence. He’s attempting to manufacture a meet-cute and it’s gross.

She’s dressed in a tight T-shirt and jeans, not the shapeless shit she was wearing earlier this week. She’s all long legs, narrow waist, and perfect tits. … I’ve flown in from Seattle just to see you, and the way you look right now, it was really worth the journey.

It genuinely worries me that there are men out there who think this way, who view women this way. I know that this book is going to try to convince me that Christian develops romantic feelings for Ana, and begins to care about her as a person, but it’s going to be hard for me to scrub this objectifying inner commentary out of my brain when we get to that part of the story. She’s nothing but a sex doll to him at this point. It gives me the heebie-jeebies.

It’s starting to grate on me that E.L. James has her characters use the word “shall” so often. I can’t remember anyone, real or fictional, using that word with any degree of sincerity in the past 30+ years – and yet Christian and Ana are dropping “shalls” all over the place like that’s the way 21st-century humans naturally talk. Uh, no. This dialogue reads like a misinformed martian wrote it.

As she passes [the masking tape] to me, the tips of our fingers touch, briefly. It resonates in my groin. Damn!

Is any of the ~”sexy”~ stuff in this book going to actually be sexy? Judging by this positively boner-killing excerpt, I’m guessing no.

He buys some obviously kink-intended hardware goods from her, and she asks if he’d be willing to pose for some photos for her friend Kate’s article. All the while, he’s calling her “the delectable Miss Steele” in his mind. Ew.

Then Ana’s coworker Paul shows up, bringing out even more of Christian’s horrible side (which isn’t really a side so much as it is his entire personality). He thinks, “Who the hell is this prick?” and “Get your fucking paws off her,” and calls Paul an asshole. Okay, James, we get it: Christian is possessive as fuck. He hasn’t even asked her out yet and he thinks he owns her.

I have to know whether there’s a hope in hell she might consider what I have in mind. How can I ask her? Am I ready to take on a submissive who knows nothing? She’s going to need substantial training. Closing my eyes, I imagine the interesting possibilities this presents… Getting there is going to be half the fun.

Grey’s thoughts so far have painted him as extremely socially out-of-touch. It is beyond inappropriate to be thinking this far ahead into a sexual future with someone, and angling for a specific and manipulative outcome, when nothing romantic or sexual has even happened between them yet. He’s like a serial killer who’s set his sights on his next victim. It’s chilling.

After Christian leaves the hardware store, he gets into his car, informs his driver he’ll be staying in Portland for the weekend, and then contemplates taking a hike to “walk this strange hunger out of [his] system.” I’m not sure I can imagine anything more brooding than that.

After the hike, he spends several hours moping around in his hotel room waiting for Ana to call. When she finally does, they set up the photoshoot for the next morning. It’s still a perfectly chaste interaction but Grey is thinking about tying her up and fucking her, because he’s Grey.