Musings

12 Days of Girly Juice: 2 Fears Defeated

Kate Sloan

I wanted to write about fears, because anxiety is a big part of my life. It affects me when I’m writing a difficult exam or performing music in front of a crowd, so of course, it affects me when I’m gettin’ sexy, too.

But this was an interesting year of forcing myself out of comfort and into discovery. I try to do that every year, but 2015 was a year where I really felt like I succeeded. Here are two fears I confronted headfirst in 2015…

 

1. Being watched during blowjobs

Oh, I know. I’ve talked your ear off about this before. But it really was major.

In 2011–2012, I went from “crying and hyperventilating at the very thought of giving a BJ” to “enthusiastically going down as long as the recipient had their eyes closed or a blindfold on.” And it was only in 2015 that I finally felt able to give a BJ without caring if the recipient was looking.

Of the five (!!) men to whom I gave blowjobs in 2015, only two received my spiel about “hey, I have a weird thing where I don’t like to be looked at during BJs; would you mind turning the light out/closing your eyes/looking the other way?” And both of those times were first times with the partners in question, so it was normal for me to be nervous.

I even caught myself slyly looking up at a partner while his dick was in my mouth recently, and as basic as that is, I can’t recall ever doing that before. The thought of it always previously gave me sooooo much anxiety about how I looked while giving head (slutty, silly, whatever). It felt like a massive step forward to even be able to exchange those two seconds of eye contact.

And hey, guess what? 2015 also brought the first time I ever gave a blowjob with spectators. Our cuddle-pile and emergency threesome at Playground involved me blowing someone while 1–2 other people looked on. And honestly, it didn’t freak me out at all. I barely even thought about it. I was just excited to have a cute boy’s cock in my mouth.

 

2. Threesomes

I had two threesomes in 2015, which is apparently enough that I now warrant the nickname “Threesome Girl.” (Seriously, someone called me this. People are strange.)

Recently I got into a discussion with some coworkers about threesomes, and one of them said, “I don’t think I’d ever have one. It doesn’t seem like it’d be fun.” This amused me because that’s what I used to think, too. Sex with more than two participants just didn’t seem up my alley. I thought it’d feel less intimate, more scattered, and that one person would inevitably feel left out of the action.

I also questioned whether I’d ever find two people who I was actively attracted to, who were also both attracted to each other. It seemed like a longshot at best.

Both of my threesomes thus far were very impromptu, each happening within a couple hours of being suggested, and I think that’s the only way they would’ve worked for me. Given advance notice, I would have panicked and talked myself out of it. “There are too many ways this could go wrong,” I would have thought. But everything went blissfully right.

There was none of the detachment or awkwardness I had feared. Both experiences felt shockingly intimate – sometimes even moreso than sex with only one person. I felt close to the action even at times when I wasn’t directly involved in it.

And though I had long denounced any threesomes where all three participants weren’t scaldingly attracted to each other, that part was actually fine too. Me and Bex don’t have sex with each other or even kiss, and that was perfectly okay because we were both so into the guy we were boning. Me and Georgia don’t have a particularly sexual connection either, but she nonetheless went down on me like a champ, and we both enjoyed it. I’m learning that there are a lot of complicated factors involved in making a sexual experience feel fun, and white-hot attraction isn’t necessarily mandatory (at least, not for me).

 

What sexual fears did you face in 2015?

12 Days of Girly Juice: 10 Perfect Sex Songs

Kate Sloan

Music and sex go hand-in-hand for me. I have a friend who wears earplugs when she masturbates because the silence helps her focus; I’m the total opposite. I feel creeped out and on edge if there’s no tunes on while I’m jerkin’ it.

For those of you who feel similarly, here are 10 of my favorite sex songs in 2015. BRB, I’ll be in my bunk with a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and an assortment of sex toys.

Justin Bieber – No Pressure. Say what you will about Bieber, but dude sure can crank out a juicy slow jam. When “What Do You Mean?” came out, a cute dom guy in my life kept telling me I needed to give it a listen, and at first I scoffed… but then I dipped my toe into the ocean of Bieber and was forever converted. This whole album is packed with deliciousness, but “No Pressure” might be my fave.

Alina Baraz – Fantasy. Where has Alina Baraz been all my life? Her music is like someone hacked into my brain, located the hole entitled “sex music,” and created a masterpiece in the exact shape of that hole. That smoky, coy voice… That slow, undulating rhythm… Ohhh yes.

Walk the Moon – Sidekick. I initially checked out Walk the Moon because their song “Shut Up and Dance” was the irresistible earworm of my summer. I was delighted to discover that the rest of their album is chock full of sexual tension and dance-y beats. “Sidekick” has one of my favorite lyrical images ever: “Keys left hanging in the door, a trail of shoes and winter coats; we’re kissing on the kitchen floor, our friendship up against the ropes…”

Punch Brothers – Magnet. I don’t know that anyone will ever let me have sex with them while “Magnet” is playing, because, well, it’s bluegrass. But – ungh – it’s really good bluegrass. And it’s sexy and sharp and dramatic and, like Chris Thile says, “fairly debauched.”

Violents – I’ve Done This Before. Jeremy Larson, one of my fave music dudes in the entire universe, has this project called Violents where every EP has a different female singer. The songs have a cool, weird, dreamy vibe and I’m super into it.

Brentalfloss – Paperboy. Um, please don’t tell Brent I think this song is sexy; he’d definitely laugh at me. Okay, the lyrics aren’t sexy – they’re about a boy on his paper delivery route – but, like, dat funk breakdown. Unf.

Bebel Gilberto – Tanto Tempo. I remember being really obsessed with this album in 2007, and listening to it while on vacation in Mexico, lying out in the hot sun in my bikini and headphones. It’s still really evocative of relaxation and summer skin for me. Girl’s got a voice made to fuck to, frankly.

Reverie Sound Revue – The Leisure Lost. Pick any song in the Reverie Sound Revue discography and fuck to it; I guarantee you won’t be disappointed. This was a fave of mine this year, though. I love how Lisa Lobsinger’s voice always sounds like she’s reclined on a couch somewhere, just casually purring her lines. Why oh why did this band have to break up?!

William Singe – Hotline Bling. I’m pretty tired of the original song at this point, but this sweet sexy R&B cover of it is A++. Just try to get the image of Drake’s terrible dancing out of your head long enough to have sex to this tune…

Menahan Street Band – The Crossing. This was a recommendation from Rae, who clearly knows what she’s talking about. Pretty sure it’s impossible to feel unsexy while listening to this beautiful instrumental piece.

What were your favorite sex songs this year?

Yes Yes Yes And: Fail More, Fail Harder

Kate Sloan

Yes Yes Yes And is my ongoing feature on the parallels between improv and sex. Yes, I am a nerd. Enjoy.

 

When I’m in the mood to get reeeeal esoteric about comedy, I listen to the Backline podcast. And Rob Norman and Adam Cawley, ever men after my own heart, always serve up exactly the joke-laced philosophizin’ I’m craving.

One truth-bomb I’ve heard Rob drop in multiple episodes is that failure is good for your improv. The harder you fail, the more you get out of your comfort zone. The more you fail, the more you learn. Rob says, when he gets into a place of stasis with his improv, where he feels like he’s playing the same characters and relying on the same schtick all the time, the cure is failure. Doing something badly – whether on purpose or by accident – can be the shake-up you need to see your blind spots, fix your issues, and do better.

Well, guess what? That applies to sex too.

There’s this shitty cultural idea that sex should be seamless and wonderful from the get-go. You’re supposed to be able to read your partner’s mind and give them exactly what they want, because sex is “dirty” and talking about it is “unromantic” or “kills the moment.”

Fuck that, dude: communication is key. And sexual failure is also key. Because you could sit around all day talking about likes and dislikes, turn-ons and turn-offs, but there are some things you’ll just never learn until you get messy and try ’em.

My sexual “failures” are some of my funniest and most treasured sex memories. The times I choked on cock and had a mid-blowjob coughing fit… The time I tried to get bossy in bed and discovered I can’t even convincingly pretend to be a domme… The time I faked an orgasm when someone fingered me for the first time because I was too scared to give directions… It’s all taught me so much.

And even the less-than-funny failures were beneficial to my sex life in the long run. For every consent-disrespecting douchebag I’ve made out with, my resolve and self-respect have grown stronger. For every boundary I’ve loosened to impress someone cute, I’ve either expanded my limits or hardened them where I needed to. For every kink I’ve explored, I’ve deepened my knowledge of my own sexuality in one way or another.

You might recall that I recently had my first threesome, and while it was far from a failure, I learned soooo much from it about how I operate as a sexual person and what my patterns are. (More on that in another post, I promise.) I would’ve never stumbled on those realizations if I hadn’t tried something scarily new to me and kinda (arguably) fucked it up. At least, parts of it.

So, don’t be afraid to fail at sex sometimes. When you do something badly, you learn how to do it better. Or – at the very least – you have a good long laugh with your partner. Either way, you win.

5 Reasons Gamers Are Good in Bed

Kate Sloan

They say you should have things in common with the people you date. And this just makes sense. You’ll have more to talk about, and more activities you can enjoy together, if you like the same stuff.

But I have a problem, and maybe you can relate in some way… I find myself inexplicably, consistently, palpably attracted to video game nerds – and I am not, myself, even remotely a “gamer girl.”

Don’t get me wrong: I own a 3DS, I’ve sunk many many hours into the Pokémon and Golden Sun series over the years, and I play The Sims and word game apps more often than is probably considered healthy. But gamer culture, and obsessiveness over games, has never really appealed to me. And I’d rather have a conversation about, say, tax law or the weather than hear one more dissection of why side-scrollers are better than first-person shooters or whatever.

But… probably upwards of 70% of the people I’ve ever seriously been attracted to have been video game nerds. Hell, my last (and only) serious boyfriend was a game developer. Video games are in my blood and in my heart, somehow. I wish it wasn’t so, but alas.

It’s worth noting, too, that video game culture is famously cruel to women. I haven’t encountered much of that in my life, except on the internet – the vast majority of gamer dudes I meet are actually lovely – but it’s an important detail in this issue nonetheless.

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However, setting all that aside… there are some common advantages to dating and fucking gamers. Here are a few of them.

 

1. They’re dexterous and coordinated.

Their fingers are strong from mashing buttons. They’re equally comfortable pounding your “buttons” hard and fast or slow and steady. Their brain-to-hands connection is super quick and responsive from thousands of hours of practice. Um. Yes. Enough said.

 

2. They live to solve puzzles.

Games like Limbo are all about finding creative solutions to problems, through trial and error. Not that your sexual response (or lack thereof) is a problem, necessarily, but it can be a challenge – at least, that’s how I think lots of gamers view it. “How can I figure out this person’s body as quickly as possible, and use what I learn to make them feel as good as possible?”

In my experience, gamers intuitively understand that not only does every body respond differently to different types of stimulation, but also that this is a good and fun thing. One of my favorite parts of sex is giving and taking direction, adapting techniques over time to follow feedback you get from your partner, and I find that gamers are more than willing to engage in this process. In many cases, they relish it.

 

3. They’ll remember what works and what doesn’t.

My ex knew his way through Viridian Forest like it was his own back yard – and all the neurons that aided in that process were probably also at play when he navigated my vulva.

Genitals can be like a map, and each person’s has a unique topography. Press here for pleasure; avoid this spot ’cause it’s painful; this part’s ticklish; this part needs to be warmed up first; this area needs intense pressure while this area can only handle the lightest touch… These are all important things to know, and gamers have already strengthened the parts of their brains that cling onto important geographic details.

 

4. They like practicing and improving.

Lots of gamers love unlocking achievements and beating records. Getting better at sex with a particular person is fun in the same kind of way.

My ex used to get gleeful when he made me come in a way that was new to me, or learned a new sexual skill. Sometimes he would literally use the words “Achievement unlocked!” which maybe would’ve annoyed me slightly if I wasn’t always near-comatose in a post-orgasmic daze at the time.

I think improvement can become an addiction for some people, and that’s something gamers need to watch out for: it’s no fun to be with someone who’s obsessed with making you come a certain way. But a small dose of this aspirational perfectionism can make sex awesome.

 

5. They appreciate the journey even more than the end result.

It’s satisfying as hell to beat the Elite Four, but it wouldn’t feel nearly as good if you hadn’t spent dozens of hours growing emotionally connected to your Pokémon, leveling them up, carefully choosing their movesets, and so on.

A sexual corollary: orgasm is fun, but gamers don’t want to skip straight to it. That’d be like using cheat codes. What would be the point? Games are meant to be played moreso than they’re meant to be won.

Orgasm-focused sex can be such a bummer. I love orgasms, don’t get me wrong, but it’s no fun for anyone when orgasms are your measuring stick for whether or not a sex session “succeeded.” If you and your partner had fun and experienced pleasure, I count that as a success. I think gamers understand that, for the most part. A day spent grinding (in the game sense, not the sexy sense…!) can still be productive and fun, even if you haven’t beaten the final boss by the time the day is out.

 

Have you dated/fucked gamers? Or are you one, yourself? What other qualities make them fun sexual partners?

5 Journal Prompts for Better Body Image

Kate 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.