Author: Kate Sloan

My Sex Toy Drawers

Kate Sloan

Today I’m going to take a leaf out of Epiphora’s book and show you how I store my sex toys. This is something I’m always curious about with other people, so I thought I’d share some photos for those of you who obsess over toy storage as much as I do!

When I first started reviewing sex toys, I cleaned out this old stack of plastic drawers that had been holding miscellaneous papers and objects in my bedroom for years. I had previously been keeping my sex toys in a vintage hatbox, but my collection was already starting to outgrow that method, so I knew it was time for an upgrade.

On top of the drawers, I keep my external hard drives (there’s no other place for them to go, so whatevs!), a bottle of antibacterial toy cleaner, and a washcloth for wiping off the cleaner once it’s done its job. I also usually keep newer toys on top of the drawers as a reminder to myself that I need to use them so I can review them.

The top drawer holds all my frequently-used favorites, with the exception of the Eroscillator which I keep plugged in at my bedside. This drawer contains the Fling, Pure Wand, Tsunami (review coming on Friday!), Lelo Mona, Turbo Glider, and Amethyst. I’ve also stuffed in some Tantus stickers that I don’t know what to do with, and my original Eroscillator attachments, which I never use now that I have the fingertip attachment.

The second drawer holds anal toys like the Ripple and Joe Rock, vaginal exercisers like the Eclipse balls and Magic Banana, and couples’ toys like the Tiani and FixSation. I’ve also filled this drawer with toy wipes, small bottles and packets of lube, unneeded bullet vibes, flavored condoms, and latex gloves. This is basically a drawer of miscellany. As a side note, I keep all the silicone toys wrapped in plastic bags so that they don’t touch each other and have chemical reactions.

My third drawer is deeper than the others, so it can fit more stuff. I use it to hold all the dildos I use sometimes but not too often, like the Ella, Adam, and Echo. Once again, I keep the silicone toys wrapped in plastic bags (which are kept in this drawer for easy access), and I try to wrap all the glass toys in some kind of padded covering, like a scarf or some packing materials.

The bottom drawer doesn’t get used very often. Currently it’s where I keep extra condoms, porn DVDs, erotica books, and random instructional booklets that came with some of my toys.

As for the toys I own that I rarely or never use anymore, those get stashed in my hatbox, where I can remove them to show them off to friends but don’t actually have to look at them or deal with them. I keep condoms in a little easy-access basket right next to my bed, and lube just adjacent to that.

How do you store your sex toys? What would be the ideal storage system for your toy collection?

Porn Review: Live Sex Show

Kate Sloan

Live Sex Show is a film by Courtney Trouble, the mastermind behind QueerPorn.TV, among other filthy hot projects. It was shot at a Masturbate-a-Thon in front of an audience of 200 people, so it’s quite different from any other porn I’ve seen. There is crowd interaction, there is an almost theatrical dynamic sometimes, but mostly, there’s just a lot of really hot fucking.

The film opens with Kimberlee Cline performing a sensual striptease. Once her pussy’s exposed, she reclines on the big, colorful sofa that all the performers will fuck on, and gives herself a cute little clitoral orgasm with her fingers. The crowd cheers; Kimberlee giggles. It’s a good scene but it’s nothing mindblowing.

Next up is a fairly traditional girl/boy scene starring Jolene Parton and Peter Devries. They make out, exchange oral sex, and then fuck romantically in various positions. Jolene’s got a gorgeous, voluptuous body, and Peter makes noise (yay, man-moans!) while his handsome uncut cock gets sucked, but this is otherwise an unremarkable scene.

The next scene is where things start to pick up a bit. It features BBW hottie April Flores and her real-life lover, who goes by The Matador. April looks foxy in a velvet jumpsuit and pink fishnets, masturbating on the floor until her man shows up and puts his dick in her mouth.

The Matador wears a mask over his face for most of the scene. At first I thought it was to maintain his anonymity, but then I saw that he takes it off midway through the session to go down on April, so I guess privacy isn’t that important to him after all? I’m not sure what’s up with this.

Weirdness aside, it’s a good scene, made up of equal parts oral, fucking, and groping. April is her usual enthusiastic and sweet-faced self, and the pair are obviously very attracted to each other. One particularly lovely moment: the Matador rips April’s fishnets open to get a better grip on her juicy ass. Nice touch. The only major problem with this scene is that it’s not very well lit, so there are plenty of moments where I feel like I can’t see the best part of what’s going on.

Next comes the kind of genderfuckery that I’ve learned to expect from QueerPorn. Tina Horn, who I’ve written about before, acts as sub to her real-life partner (I think?), Roger Wood. In researching Roger to check on pronouns for this review, I found out that he identifies not as FTM but as “F to James Brown,” but that his porn persona is decidedly male.

I find Roger very attractive, and he certainly has a great connection with Tina, but I don’t think he makes a very convincing on-screen dom. His spanking, roughness, and domination just don’t seem wholly impassioned to me for most of the scene.

The turnaround comes when Tina and Roger take a bow, thinking their time is up. Someone tells them from off-camera that they’ve got more time if they want to continue, so they do, dropping all pretences and fabricated characters. They just fuck, and it comes off as way more authentic and pleasurable than the rest of the scene up til then.

The next scene is the crowning glory of this film, because it features two huge stars of the porno galaxy: Nina Hartley and Jiz Lee. (Don’t get confused when I use “they/them” pronouns in this part of the review; those are the ones Jiz prefers for themself.)

My boyfriend doesn’t think it’s sexy at all how Nina starts out this scene with an anatomical explanation of what she’s doing to Jiz, and I have to agree – but it is kind of endearing how Nina looks for opportunities to educate people on sex. The pair talk about their preferences, desires, and what’s off-limits (for example, Nina abhors being bitten), having never met before this performance.

This scene is fantastic because both of the performers clearly admire each other and are excited about fucking each other (and indeed, Nina liked the experience so much that she ended up working for Crash Pad Series solely for the opportunity to have sex with Jiz again). Nina fists Jiz to an orgasm with the help of a Hitachi. Nina’s a pro dirty-talker, telling Jiz that their pussy is “tight and slick and strong” while holding their throat and pumping her fist in and out like the expert she is. It’s astonishing to see two seasoned professionals clearly delighting in one another, not blasé or routine in the least.

Then they switch roles and do the exact same thing the other way: fast finger-fucking and a helpful Hitachi. When Nina finally orgasms, she grabs Jiz in a fierce kiss of gratitude and the audience goes wild.

The last scene of the film is an impromptu gangbang. Nina crows, “Let’s everybody get on Courtney!” and all the female-bodied performers proceed to pile onto the filmmaker, Courtney Trouble. Tina Horn straddles Courtney’s mouth wearing a strap-on, April blindfolds her and starts playing with one of her nipples, Roger handles the other breast, Nina puts her magic hand to work in Courtney’s pussy, and Jiz takes care of the clit stimulation. What results is an epic, if slightly repetitious scene, the likes of which I’ve never seen anywhere before.

Live Sex Show has its fair share of problems – it’s sometimes poorly lit, there are moments that come off as awkward and faked, and the first few scenes are unimpressive. But I still think it’s worth the price of admission, by far. The bodies are real, the orgasms are real, the attractions are real, and the second half of this film is some of the best on-screen sex I’ve ever had the pleasure of watching.

Review: Sliquid Swirl

Kate Sloan

At first blush, Sliquid Swirl seems too good to be true. It’s a natural, hypoallergenic lube that also happens to be flavored and glycerine-free. On top of all that, it also doesn’t contain any parabens or propylene glycol, both gross health offenders that are found in most lubes.

As a result of being devoid of all these nasties, Swirl is a legitimately vagina-friendly flavored lube, a title that’s pretty much akin to “unicorn” in the world of commercial lubricants. So before we go any further, I have to tell you: I approve of this lube. It’s automatically better than 99% of the lubes you will find, if you and/or your partner have a vagina, purely because of its ingredients.

The flavor I scored from PinkCherry.ca is pink lemonade; Swirl also comes in other delicious-sounding varieties like green apple and cherry vanilla. Considering how many flavored lube brands produce only one-note tastes like vanilla, strawberry, and mint, it’s refreshing to see Sliquid trying out cool variations you won’t find anywhere else.

My pink lemonade Swirl has a pleasant scent that reminds me of grapefruit, apple, and a hint of soap, all mixed together. The taste is subtler, less punchy, but still sweet and kind of fruity (my boyfriend says it reminds him of konjac jelly candy). It’s sweetened with aspartame, in order to avoid the enemy of vaginas everywhere, sugar – so if you have sensitivities to aspartame, or just don’t like the ever-so-slightly artificial sweetness it creates, you might not enjoy this lube as much as I do.

The taste plays well with genital flavors, though I think that’s more a result of the aspartame than anything else. Pouring a packet of sweetener on just about anything will make it taste like a more pleasant version of itself. The pink lemonade taste is not always super obvious, but the sweetness is. Be warned, this lube won’t stick around if your oral technique is wet and sloppy (and whose isn’t?) – there are better choices for a lasting flavor during oral, though they’re not usually vagina-safe.

Used for its intended purpose of lubrication, Swirl’s formulation makes it last about as long as any other water-based lube will, i.e. not a very long time. Without any added moisture, it dries down after about two minutes. With added moisture, it’ll typically last long enough that I can get through all or most of a masturbation session with it (ten to twenty minutes or so) without needing to reapply. I don’t like its texture or lastability as much as my “old faithful” lube, so Swirl won’t be my new favorite, but it’s pretty okay as far as water-based lubes go.

One thing I really like about Swirl is that it truly is both functional and flavorful – so I can use it on a dildo or my boyfriend’s cock, and afterwards, my vag still tastes sweet, allowing for a cooldown oral session.

Also, whoever designed the Sliquid packaging is brilliant. It’s slightly reminiscent of a shampoo bottle, with its easy-to-open top and easy-to-hold body. And it never leaks. You have to give the bottle a very firm squeeze to get it to dispense any lube. Bravo! (Maybe not the best choice for people with weak hands, sore wrists, etc., though.)

While Sliquid Swirl isn’t my favorite lube in the world, it’s certainly my favorite flavored lube, and one that I’ll be using regularly. It feels good to know that I can sweeten up my junk without fearing for my health.

Thanks very much, PinkCherry.ca!

Review: Tantus Dipper

Kate Sloan

Normally, when I request a toy to review, it’s because I have some inkling that I might enjoy it. I check out its measurements, examine its features, compare it to other toys I’ve tried, and if it seems like it might work for me, I request it. But when I asked PinkCherry.ca to send me a Tantus Dipper, it wasn’t because I thought I would like it – it was because it kind of scared me, and I thought it’d be a good challenge.

The Dipper is my first textured butt plug. All the other plugs that my ass has enveloped have been smooth, easily made slick with lube. The Dipper has the same diameter as the Ryder, the biggest plug I’ve taken up the butt, but because the Dipper is covered in deep ridges, it feels even more challenging.

Like all the Tantus toys I’ve tried, the Dipper is made of 100% silicone. It’s quite dense in the body and base of the plug, so those parts have hardly any give at all, but the neck is thinner so it’s flexible. This, as I learned from the too-rigid Joe Rock, is a good quality in a plug.

Looking at the Dipper as I pulled it out of its standard plastic packaging, I thought, This is going to hurt. On Twitter, I referred to it as the Ridged Butt Plug of Doom. I braced myself for trouble.

After warming up with a smaller toy and dumping a bunch of water-based lube on the Dipper, I slowly, slowly guided it into my ass. It felt foreign and uncomfortable at first, as my butt met texture for the first time. I reached the widest point of the plug – 1 ½" – and it stretched and hurt a tiny bit, but I kept on pushing until the Dipper slid home with a satisfying pop.

I spent the next few hours doing various household activities while wearing the Dipper. I can report that it stays in place better than any other plug I’ve tried. There is no moment at which I feel like this toy is going to come out; it doesn’t even feel like it’s moving at all. It’s anchored, and that’s awesome.

The Dipper’s neck and base are very comfortable. I thought the base might feel weird, since it’s spherical, unlike the narrow rectangular plug bases I’m used to – but it nestles nicely between my cheeks and doesn’t bother me at all.

Sitting with the Dipper in is sometimes a bit tricky, because the plug’s tip is pointed and can jab my innards if I sit down the wrong way. I’d recommend that you go slowly if you want to sit or move around a lot with this plug inside you.

I love that the Dipper is small enough that I can use another toy vaginally while it’s in. This doesn’t feel as fabulous as I thought it would – maybe I’m just not a fan of anal texture? – but it’s always cool to have the option.

Tantus normally gets everything right, but the Dipper has a very noticeable seam running down each side of it, from the tip of the plug to the bottom of its base. This seems glaringly incongruent with my other Tantus toys, which are sleek and seamless (as far as I’ve been able to tell, anyway). I don’t feel the seam in use, but it’s obnoxious that it’s there. Nothing that rubs against sensitive tissues should ever have sharp seams on it.

I’m not a big fan of the ridges, to be honest. I think I would like this plug a whole lot more if it had the same shape and dimensions but was smooth. For me, the ridges do nothing but create discomfort during insertion and removal. And they’re incredibly difficult to clean. On the plus side, they do allow the toy to hang onto lube fairly well.

So who would I recommend the Tantus Dipper for? Someone whose butt loves texture. Someone who wants a plug for long-term wear and has some anal experience under hir* belt. Someone who has a fondness for sex toys that resemble BDSM torture devices (or could even be used as such). If you fall into one or two or all three of these categories, there’s a very good chance you could fall in love with the Dipper. But if your butt’s a wimp, give this one a pass and consider picking up the much tamer Ripple instead.

Thanks, PinkCherry.ca!

*Yep, I used a gender-neutral pronoun.

You Get to Choose How You Identify

Kate Sloan

The more I learn about queer and trans issues, the more I notice the prevalence of one particular truth in those spaces: you get to decide what labels you want to refer to yourself by.

This applies to many aspects of one’s identity. Sexual orientation is the obvious, glaring one. A woman might have sex with exclusively women, but if she identifies as primarily straight, you have to accept that. A young kid may tell you he’s gay, and you’re not allowed to say “But you don’t know yet!” because most people do know when they’re kids, even if they can’t articulate it or understand it. A person’s sexual identity may be the polar opposite of what you’d expect from them, but ultimately they are the ones who know best about who and what they are.

By that same token, I believe you get to choose whether or not you identify as a virgin.

Hear me out. Virginity is such a loaded topic. Some folks think it depends on the size and state of a membrane of skin embedded in your genitalia. Some think your virginity can be “taken” from you in nonconsensual situations, that people who are sexually assaulted, no matter their age, are no longer virginal. And still others think you can lose your virginity to a sex toy or your own fingers.

Here’s my own rough timeline of potentially lost virginities, according to various opinions that exist on the topic:
Age 6: Started touching my own genitals for pleasure.
Age 9: Reached my first orgasm, with the help of a bath faucet.
Age 12: Experimented with penetrating myself with my fingers.
Age 15: Used my first sex toys, both penetrative and not.
Age 16: Participated in oral sex with another girl.
Age 16: Was penetrated by another girl’s strapped-on silicone dildo.
Age 18: Participated in manual and oral sex with a guy.
Age 19: Was penetrated by a real, live, flesh-and-blood penis.

Here’s the thing, though… I didn’t feel that I really lost my virginity until I was 18. And that has nothing to do with the fact that it was with a dude, and everything to do with the fact that I was emotionally connected to him, unlike the girl I’d slept with who was my friend but not my passion. I still felt like a virgin when I was 17, but not when I was 19. My personal definition of my virginity is my choice to make, and I can do that by any criteria I choose.

I’ve never believed in virginity as a physical trait. Part of this came from growing up in communities and religions where there wasn’t much emphasis placed on the hymen: my parents, teachers, and doctors were more likely to lecture me about the emotional stresses of having sex than the physical changes that might occur. I was aware that I had a hymen, but I didn’t care about it. I even attempted to break it myself with hairbrush handles and shampoo bottles, because I wanted it gone. I didn’t want it to stop me from enjoying my first time having sex.

The first time I remember really pondering the concept of virginity was when I had my first kiss. I was twelve years old and we were playing Spin the Bottle in a deserted playground after our sixth-grade graduation. I was forced to kiss a boy for whom I had no romantic feelings whatsoever; we both closed our eyes and our friends shoved us toward each other, culminating in a “kiss” that lasted less than a second. I remember thinking, even then, that that was not a satisfactory event to be forever branded My First Kiss. I wanted a different one.

And so, when, four years later, I shared my next kiss with my first girlfriend, who filled me with teenage lust and wonder, that felt like my first kiss. And I decided to refer to it as such, from then on. When people ask me about my first kiss, I tell them, “My first real kiss was on my first girlfriend’s porch.” Very rarely does anyone ask for details about the kisses that came before that, the “not real” ones.

So what’s my point in all this? I believe in our freedom of choice when it comes to defining our own identities, and our own landmark moments. I believe that part of true independence is having the liberty and bravery to tell your own story from a perspective that makes sense to you. I believe in wearing rose-colored glasses if that’s a way you can fill your life with meaning and lift yourself up.

Readers: How do you choose to self-identify? Was your first kiss or first sexual experience different from the one you think of as your “real” first?