Author: Kate Sloan

Bisexual vs. Pansexual

Kate Sloan

When I was 15, I came out as bisexual, because I liked boys and girls.

A few months later, my friend confided in me that she thought she might be bisexual too, because she’d found herself unexpectedly crushing on another girl at summer camp.

We did some research online together, excitedly chattering about sapphic infatuations all the while – and as we learned more and more, my friend said to me, “I think I might be pansexual, not bisexual.” I asked her why and she said, “Because I’m attracted to people regardless of whether they’re male or female.”

This felt strange to me then, and it still feels strange to me now when I hear this argument from other people. Being bisexual doesn’t mean I’m attracted to dicks and pussies – it means I’m attracted to people, people of either sex, but people nonetheless.

It’s been suggested to me many times that perhaps pansexual would be a better label for me, since I’m often attracted to people who don’t conform to the gender binary – mainly, boyish girls or genderqueer female-bodied folks. The term “pansexual” was essentially invented to describe people whose attractions don’t fit within the clean-cut gender binary of male/female – and yeah, that’s me.

But the more I think about it, the more I feel that bisexual is a suitable label for me – because I’m attracted to people within a binary. It’s just not the traditional gender binary. I’m attracted to cis men and gender-fucking female-bodied people. There are occasional exceptions, but those are the two major groups I find myself drawn to, romantically and sexually.

The prefix “pan” means “all” or “every,” and that just doesn’t apply to me. I don’t seem to have the capacity to be attracted to people of every gender identification; only a few.

From time to time, I toy with the label “androsexual,” since masculine energy is really what gets me hot, regardless of what type of body it’s emanating from. But that’s not as recognizable a term as bisexual. I don’t always relish having to explain my attraction patterns to heteronormative folks, because they’re prone to asking questions like, “If you’re attracted to butchy women, why not just date men? Isn’t it basically the same thing?” (Oy vey.)

How do you feel about terms like bisexual and pansexual? Do you identify with one, neither, or both? How do the people in your social circles use these terms?

Review: Fun Factory G4 Patchy Paul

Kate Sloan

Vibrators don’t really excite me that much anymore. I’ve tried so many, and sometimes it feels like they’re all the same. Y’know?

But the Patchy Paul definitely excited me. After it spent months languishing in my wishlist, I finally decided to snap it up… and it delivered.

Fun Factory, particularly their line of G4 vibrators, is known for reeeeally intense and rumbly vibrations. This is not your mama’s vibrator (well, maybe it should be, because she would probably like it too!). This is a badass creation filled with pleasure potential.

Sometimes people ask me, “What can I get that has the power of a Hitachi without the dependence on an electrical outlet?” That’s a very tall order, and I’m not convinced that anything really fits the bill, but probably the closest is either a large Smart Wand or a G4 vibe. If your favorite masturbation accoutrements are slightly reminiscent of a jackhammer, you’ll love the motor in any G4 toy.

But why specifically the Patchy Paul? I chose it because I like texture, but not an insane amount of texture, and I also appreciate some G-spot lovin’. The Paul looks like a caterpillar, with a body that strokes your vaginal walls and a head that nuzzles your G-spot. It even has a little face – perfect for all you caterpillar fetishists out there. (Kidding. Those people aren’t reading this; they’re off looking at a nature blog somewhere. Duh.)

The Patchy Paul is rechargeable, 100% waterproof, and made of body-safe plastic and silicone. The only thing I don’t dig about it is that the vibrations are focused toward the middle of the shaft, not the tip of the toy where they ought to be… but they’re so strong that it doesn’t really affect my experience. I can use this toy vaginally or clitorally and either way, it rocks my ladyparts’ world.

The Patchy Paul has now officially become my favorite G-spot vibrator, right up there with the Lelo Mona. If you can get past its creepy caterpillar face, the two of you might end up being very happy together.

Review: California Exotics Ultra Douche

Kate Sloan

Can we just take a moment to collectively appreciate how hilarious it is that this product is called the “Ultra Douche”? That’s a name I might hurl at somebody like Todd Akin, but I’d never think to use such a phrase for a sex toy.

I think they should have gone with the word “enema.” Not only is it more accurate (last I checked, douches are for your vagina, not your ass), but it has less cultural baggage. Although I will admit that I think it would be pretty funny to start using “enema” as an insult.

Anyway. This is my first enema product, and so I wasn’t sure what to expect. This one is a basic bulb syringe model, consisting of three parts: the bulb, which holds a respectable amount of water; the nozzle, a long, smooth, red thing with a slight curve; and a skirt-like bit that acts as a “flared base” for the nozzle. The construction is pretty solid and the toy doesn’t fall apart when I use it, which is always a plus.

So, first, the good stuff: this is, I think, a great choice for someone who (like me) is curious about enemas and just wants a basic, inexpensive bulb syringe that will get the job done. This thing isn’t fancy at all, but I was able to figure out how to use it in under a minute, which I wasn’t expecting to be able to do.

The bulb is pretty sensitive to pressure, so I have to be careful about the way I hold it while I’m maneuvering the nozzle into my ass – but when the time is right, it’s easy to push out all the water with a firm squeeze. The nozzle is about an inch in diameter, so people with utterly virginal asses should partake in some warm-up beforehand and drizzle on the lube, but my ass is somewhat experienced so I didn’t need either.

The shitty (har har) thing about this enema is that it’s made of phthalate-free PVC and polypropylene. (I had to look that one up. I’d never even heard of it before.) I don’t know whether polypropylene is porous, and the internet has been no help, but PVC definitely is. Either way, the whole toy smells mildly of gross plasticky materials, which makes me think that it’s not optimum for inserting into one’s body.

Surely there are nonporous enema options on the market, but they’re probably pretty pricey. An enema isn’t like a dildo; you’re not going to be using this thing on a daily or weekly basis. For that reason, maybe it’s not the worst thing in the world if you choose to go with a cheap PVC bulb syringe. I dunno, man.

Either way, I’m pleased with this Ultra Douche because it does exactly what I ask of it. I guess it’s not that douchey after all.

Merci comme toujours, Sex Toys Canada!

Sharing the Sexy #13

Kate Sloan

• Porn star James Deen answered reader questions on Reddit. Read dat shit.

• There’s a Justin Bieber sex doll now. Ugh!!

• Jimmyjane vibrator designer Ethan Imboden has a prudish and proud mother. Aww, I love a good story about family and sex toys.

• Sarah wrote about how to use Craigslist to get laid.

• HOOK released a handbook for male-bodied sex workers. I don’t know about you, but I find stuff like this so fascinating to read, even if it doesn’t apply to me.

• What are the 30 must-see feminist porn sites?

• Check out this zine on the importance of verbal consent to brush up on your sex-positive etiquette.

On Friends, Lovers, and Sex Toys

Kate Sloan

My friends all know that I review sex toys, and they’re all pretty stoked for me. Some will even ask me, as a routine part of every visit we have together, “So what are you reviewing right now?” and then I will take them up to my bedroom and pull out whatever treasure has been frequenting my orifices that week. Really, my friends are great.

There are so many awkwardnesses surrounding the sharing of sexuality with your friends in this culture, though.

Recently I went through my toy collection and made a list of toys I never use and don’t need or want to own anymore. They’re all sterilizable and none of them have been in my butt. I sent out a message to a few select friends containing the list and some links, and asked them to choose anything they wanted to have.

Admittedly, I was nervous about doing this. My friends are extremely sex-positive and toy-positive, but I worried they would freak out, call me gross, and admonish me for even bringing it up. Luckily, they didn’t – and next week I’ll be passing on some under-loved, high-quality toys to my sweet friends.

My boyfriend thinks this is all a bit weird. Maybe it’s a relic of male culture – you know, all those ideas about how overly-intimate friendships are icky and how sex is something you share with your hos, not your bros – but he gets visibly squicked out when I mention that I’m giving a toy of mine to a friend. He’s fine with using my toys himself, but that’s because we’re fluid-bonded and I guess a sexual relationship is considered a socially acceptable environment for sharing toys.

I remember when I was 17 and my ambiguous friend/lovergirl bought a rabbit vibrator. Having owned a vibrator and a dildo but never a dual-action toy, I was very curious about her new purchase. So one night, when she came over for a little party I was having at my house, she stowed the rabbit in her bag and passed it to me surreptitiously. “Go try it out!” she said.

I scampered away from the party guests and into the bathroom, where I tried out the toy, sans lube (ugh, youthful stupidity). It didn’t blow me away. It didn’t even really turn me on. (This is no surprise to me now, since I’ve tried a re-skinned version of that same rabbit and had the same mediocre results.) After I had satisfied my curiosity, I removed the toy, rinsed it off, and brought it back to my lady. She asked me what I thought and I probably kinda shrugged.

So what’s my point with all this? Honestly, I’m not really sure I have one. I guess I’m just intrigued by and curious about the social norms surrounding sex toys. Some of them are there for good reason – you don’t want to accidentally transmit or contract an STI via a borrowed and unsterilized toy, of course – but some of them just seem silly. So what if I want to give my friend a vibrating hand-me-down? If she’s okay with it, and I’m okay with it, and the toy is clean, what’s the big deal?

What are your experiences with giving or receiving used sex toys? Do you consider it off-limits, and if so, why?