Personal

Claustrophobic Closet Kisses

Kate Sloan

Over a year prior to my current boyfriend, there was another boy who I dated for a paltry three and a half weeks. Let’s call him R.

R was, like most of the people I’ve ever been attracted to, tall, skinny, and awkward. He made me laugh and smile with his earnest sweetness. He wore ridiculous running shoes with trailing laces and had a huge toothy grin which he flashed when he wasn’t sure what to say.

R was on the student council at my high school, so he had his own “office,” which was really just a repurposed storage closet. It was large enough to fit a desk, a chair, several posters, and his backpack. He basically used it as an oversized locker or a surrogate bedroom; it was always a mess.

Sometimes I would drop by when I knew he’d be there, during his spare period. I’d duck out of art class and creep down the hall to the door with his name on it, and knock, my stomach doing excited gymnastics.

A few of the times that I came to visit him, R and I got up to no good in his office. I’d sit on his desk, trying to be seductive, while he signed important administrative forms or drafted an essay… and eventually he’d notice me, put down his work, and start kissing me.

His desk was in the corner. I remember being pressed up against the wall, so I physically couldn’t move away from the kiss if I wanted to. R was an aggressive kisser, all sloppy-tongued and gropey-handed, which I tried unsuccessfully to convince myself I enjoyed.

I remember thinking, I don’t understand what all the fuss is about. My friends raved about kissing, how it was romantic and intimate and life-affirming, but I never felt that. There were no fireworks or orchestral swells. There was only a giant prodding tongue and nagging feelings of doubt and claustrophia.

Naturally, R and I broke up pretty quickly – we were not a good match. I barely missed him, but some effects of my time with him have lingered.

To this day, it still bothers me to be kissed when I’m trapped against a wall, or any other confining surface. My favorite kissing position is straddling my boyfriend while he’s sitting down, because that way, I feel in control, like I can retract consent at any time without making a huge deal of it.

Of course, it helps that my current boyfriend is an excellent kisser, knows that tongue should only ever be an accent, and doesn’t try to asphyxiate me with his mouth.

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Rub My Own Clit, Dammit!

Kate Sloan

I’ve understood, for as long as I can remember, that the clitoris is the main source of female sexual pleasure. There’s never been any doubt of this in my mind. I’ve been having clitoral orgasms since I was nine years old, and it’s only in the past few years that penetration has even been included in my masturbation at all. I completely understand, and have for a long time, that penetration, by itself, typically doesn’t do a whole lot for me.

However, despite all this, I still felt shitty and inadequate when I had heterosexual intercourse for the first time and got nothing out of it.

I think a lot of women probably react this way. Whether you’ve mastered your clit or never even heard of it, it can be a massive letdown to realize that this one sexual act, which our culture has placed on a giant pedestal, isn’t the ultimate bringer of pleasure. It sucks to think something’s going to blow your mind and then find it disappointing – not only because of that disappointment, but also because it makes you feel like there’s something wrong with you.

(Yes, I know there’s nothing wrong with me; I’m perfectly normal. I’m one of the 75% of women who can’t, as yet, orgasm from penetration alone. Didn’t stop me from feeling like a failure when I lost my hetero virginity.)

A few weeks after we first fucked, my boyfriend and I had a chat about our sexual goals. I had a bunch of random ones, comprising all kinds of stuff from butt plugs to back alleys, but my man had only one item on his sexual to-do list: he wanted me to reach orgasm while he was inside me. Not necessarily from his penis alone (he’s very clued-in and knows how unlikely that would be), but an orgasm nonetheless. And because he asked so sweetly, and wanted it so sincerely, I knew I had to figure out a way.

I did a bunch of research, came up with ideas, and made notes. I read about the Coital Alignment Technique and the anterior fornix. But eventually, I came to the conclusion that these fancy methods and positions were too complicated for us to tackle as beginners, and I would have to keep it simple. I would have to rub my own clit during sex.

The idea of that was intimidating. I didn’t want him to see my weird orgasmic faces up close, or to get annoyed at me for taking too long to come. But he seemed enthused about my suggestion, so we gave it a shot.

We determined that, because he takes far less time to reach orgasm than I do, we’d have to commit to lots of foreplay to get me super turned on, to help bridge that gap. He went down on me (my boyfriend is a self-professed “cunnilingus king”) until I could feel the stirrings of an orgasm building in my pelvis, and then, already hard and condom’ed, he slid into me.

I touched myself. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see him looking. I turned my head to the side so he couldn’t see my expressions. I focused really hard on the sensations in my clit, trying to ignore the distraction of his penis. And after several difficult but pleasurable minutes, I came. Hard.

Immediately, I burst out laughing and shouted, “We did it!” He laughed too, and held me for a few moments, both of us revelling, before continuing to fuck me.

Over the next few weeks, we practiced a lot more. It got to the point where his cock was no longer a distraction, but instead, an addition, an asset, a huge help.

To this day, this is still the method we use to ensure intercourse is satisfying for both of us, because we both find it fun and easy. It may not be as interesting as the C.A.T., but it works for us, and I don’t feel ashamed of it anymore.

I guess I wrote this for all those women who worry that it’s “weird” to touch themselves during sex – that it’s insulting to their partner, that it’ll look strange, that they shouldn’t have to add anything “extra” to sex. Because the thing is, our anatomy is built oddly, and many of us need that additional stimulation. If it feels tacked-on initially, give it time; it won’t be long before it starts to seem just as natural as a penis in a vagina.

Progress Report: G-Spot Orgasms

Kate Sloan

Last week, I bought Deborah Sundahl’s book on squirting, ordered a Pure Wand, and stacked up a couple of thick towels on my bed. It was time.

I’ve been interested in exploring my G-spot for years and years – pretty much ever since I realized I had a vagina – but I’ve never fully gotten around to it until now. I guess, like most women, I was discouraged by mainly three things:

1. The idea that it just wouldn’t work for me. I’ve been having clitoral orgasms since I was a kid and it’s hard to wrap my head around the idea that there could be a whole different kind of orgasm waiting for me to figure it out.

2. The “need to pee” feeling. It can be a very unsettling sensation, especially since clitoral pleasure is so straightforwardly pleasurable and G-spot stimulation isn’t always.

3. The time and energy required. I find G-spot play much more exhausting and time-consuming than clit play, mainly because my G-spot needs to be stimulated for a long time before it’ll swell up enough to become sensitive.

Yes, I’ve been resistant. Yes, I’ve been lazy. But all that is beginning to change.

My recent ponderings and explorations began a few weeks ago, when, during oral sex, my boyfriend slipped a finger inside me and began to feel around. This is common for us, but for some reason, on this particular day, my G-spot was very responsive. I moaned and writhed wildly as he stroked it. Eventually, the pleasure got so great that I pushed his head away to stop him from tonguing my clit – I wanted to focus on the G-spot stimulation alone.

Over the next 40 minutes or so, we experimented with my spot. There was plenty of lube, and very fast thrusting, and vigorous “come-hithering,” and lots and lots and lots of moaning. It was a pleasure unlike any I had ever felt during my own masturbatory adventures – I could never reach my spot like he could, nor could I rub it as firmly or speedily as he could. (My boyfriend attributes his dexterity to a lifetime of playing video games.)

When we paused to rest and re-hydrate, I reached inside myself with a couple of fingers and found that my G-spot was more swollen than I had ever felt it before. It was bulbous and ridgy and surprising. I was elated: new sexual territory to explore!

Since then, I’ve taken matters into my own hands. I’ve used various curved toys to hit the spot, thrusting faster than I thought my arms could handle – and that insane pleasure has returned on a few occasions. It’s deeper and really does feel like I’m stimulating the back end of my clitoris – a new angle on the orgasmic pleasure I’ve been experiencing all these years.

I still haven’t been able to orgasm from my G-spot alone, nor have I squirted (as far as I can tell), but it’s been very fun to try. I’m going to keep working on it and I’ll report back, if and when I become a multiorgasmic sex goddess with a deliciously swollen and satisfied G-spot.

What’s Changed Since I Started Reviewing Sex Toys?

Kate Sloan

I’ve been blogging about sex toys for over a month now. I started out writing about toys I already had, moved on to receiving free items to review, and now I’m blogging for Sex Toys Canada and reviewing for a few different sites. I’m surprised at how quickly this project has taken off for me, and how much fun I’ve had so far, even with only a month of work under my belt.

I’ve noticed myself changing already, though – for the better. Here are a few of the differences I’ve spotted in myself since I got started on this road of vibrator-touting.

1. I use lube now. I was always one of those girls who figured my natural lubrication would be enough. It was only when I started reading other reviewers’ work that I realized how many other people insist on always using lube when they masturbate. I’m now a staunch supporter of smearing my beloved Blossom Organics on any toy that’s going into me, and it has improved the experience more than I would’ve thought.

2. I actually like porn now. Prior to reading other sex blogs, I wasn’t terribly aware of the “alt porn” scene. I had no idea who James Deen, Danny Wylde, Belladonna, and Dylan Ryan were. I thought most porn was bound to be gross airbrushed shit, with fake-looking orgasms and tons of female degradation. But then I started watching stuff like Sexing the Transman XXX and Dylan and Danny Extra Credit, and I realized that porn can be real and extremely hot. Now I’m an avid alt porn consumer, and it has changed the way I experience solo sex.

3. I truly enjoy using toys. I used to sort of view sex toys as a means to an end – whatever made me come the fastest was a winner. But reviewing has forced me to step back and enjoy the journey as well, since that’s mainly what I’m reporting on when I write about a toy. I notice little details – textures, intensities, shapes – more than ever. It’s like an exercise in meditative masturbation.

4. I care about what I put into my orifices. I know that jelly toys are evil, so I haven’t used my jelly rabbit at all since I started reviewing, and I plan on replacing it with an elastomer version as soon as I can. I’m also very careful about keeping glycerin-laden lubes away from my junk… not to mention, I stay the fuck away from anal toys that don’t have a flared base.

5. I’m learning what I like. I already knew what I need from a partner; now I’m coming to understand what I need from a toy. I don’t enjoy internal vibrations. I can’t take more than seven inches before bumping into my cervix. I love the way glass feels inside me. My G-spot responds best to firm, rhythmic pressure. I need to rub vibrators against myself in order to get off. I don’t care if a toy is loud as long as it works. And I cherish being able to receive oral sex while a large, firm toy is buried inside me. Being sure of what I want is one of the best gifts I could give to myself, as it helps with every facet of my sexuality.

I’m looking forward to more adventures in the world of sex toy reviewing. For now, I’m just beginning my journey, and it’s been an outrageous amount of fun so far.

Things I Learned From My Friend With Benefits

Kate Sloan

When I was fifteen years old, I came out as bisexual. A lot of shit went down – I came out on Facebook, I got hit on by random queer schoolmates who came out of the woodwork, I had my first girlfriend (NBD, we only dated for a month), I attended my first Pride Parade… but maybe the most interesting thing that happened was that my female friend fell in love with me.

She was actually in love with me before we really became friends. She watched from afar, using social media and secondhand gossip as her telescope – and then we started talking, and then we became close. And then, eventually, we began a sexual relationship that would last a year and a half.

I’m not going to lie to you: it was weird. She loved me; I had no feelings for her beyond a friendly fondness. She worshipped my body; I thought she was kinda cute. She put her heart and soul into making love to me; I enjoyed our regular fucks. There’s a lot about that relationship that makes me feel kind of shitty in retrospect, but all the same, I’m very glad it happened, because it taught me most of what I know about the practical applications of sex.

1. Communication is hard. I grew up listening to Sex is Fun and Open Source Sex, so I knew how important it is to communicate with your sexual partner… but I guess I never realized how embarrassing and vulnerable it can be, until I actually had to do it. Even knowing that my partner was deadset on me and wouldn’t leave no matter what I said or did, it was still difficult for me to form basic sentences like “Could you lick a little harder?” Now, I have a lot more respect and understanding for people who get nervous about asking for what they want. There’s still no excuse for not stepping up to that responsibility, but I get it: it’s tough.

2. I love cunnilingus. Really, I do. It’s perfect and beautiful. It’s intimate and hot. It’s smooth and wet and tangy. It can be about dominance or submission or neither or both. I used to watch cunnilingus porn exclusively, thinking maybe my obsession would get diluted a little when I started having Real-Life Sex, and it did, a bit, but not really.

3. Sexual equality doesn’t always appear equal. This girl, she loved giving head. She could literally orgasm just from going down on me. She was way more of a giver than a receiver – and as I’m more on the receiver side of the spectrum, this worked for us. But at the same time, our friends viewed our connection from the outside and worried that we weren’t practicing equality. I see why they would wonder about that, but what they didn’t understand was that sexual equality isn’t about making sure each person gets the exact same treatment – it means making sure that each person gets exactly the same amount of what they really want. And we had that.

4. I love my body. If there’s one thing that can quell adolescent body image problems, it’s an adamant lover. Having someone obsess over the parts of you that you hate the most is indescribably wonderful. I frequently suffered spells of emotion when my lady-lover would say things like, “Please don’t talk about losing weight. You’re perfect the way you are.” Sometimes I think I’d still be insecure today, if not for that fateful tryst.

5. Friends-with-benefits situations can work… if handled properly. We always talked about our feelings. We always confessed if we were feeling jealous or smothered or neglected. We always told each other “where we were at,” even when that was scary or potentially hurtful. And we made our decisions accordingly, like when to take a break from each other, when to spend more time together, who to tell about us and who to keep in the dark. As a result, we both felt heard and respected, even if that sometimes meant getting our feelings bruised a little. I think that’s why we lasted so long.

6. Lesbian sex is great. Yup, the rumours are true – girly bodies, brought together in sexual union, are hot. But the thing is, good sex is good sex, regardless of gender. I learned that later, when I dated a guy. If your partner is enthusiastic, communicative, adventurous, and kind, the sex will be good, no matter who has what anatomy.

I learned so much from my teenage FWB. How to talk about sex, how to negotiate boundaries, how to enjoy my body with someone else’s. So even though our relationship ended on a sour note, I wouldn’t take it back – it formed the basis of all the awesome sex I’m having nowadays and will have for the rest of my days.