Intimate Intercourse: Phone Sex (Part 1)

Hello! Intimate Intercourse is a new series where I interview my boyfriend/Sir/daddy, who goes by Super Sleepy Dude, about various topics related to sex and kink. The first topic we tackled is phone sex, and it turns out we had a lot to say about it – who would’ve thought?! – so I’ve split this interview up into 3 parts, which will go up over the course of this week. In this first part, we discuss the overall joys of phone sex and some of the skills involved in it. Enjoy!


Kate Sloan: What skills do you think someone needs to develop to be good at phone sex?

Super Sleepy: I think there a few key skills you need to be good at phone sex. One of them is knowing what to say, and when to say it. That comes from a lot of practice and a lot of, actually, the second skill that I think is important, which is like, really closely monitoring the person – or people, I guess; I’ve never had phone sex with multiple people at the same time, but…

KS: It’s possible!

SS: It’s possible, I guess! Party line! Um, monitoring the person’s reactions and then, like, over time, if you’re having phone sex with this person multiple times, remembering what they responded to, and what ordering of sounds and words and ideas work for them. It’s similar to how, if you’re having sex with somebody in person, you get to know their body and their responses better over time. And you can do the same thing if you listen really closely.

And then the third one is kind of the creativity one. It’s coming up with new stuff, so that you’re not just constantly saying the same few things over and over again. New scenarios, new things to roleplay, settings, toys can be helpful… The mixing-it-up part.

KS: You’ve said to me before that you think you have a phone-sex kink. What does that mean to you? How does that manifest for you?

SS: I think, like a lot of my kinks, this is something that goes back pretty early in my sexuality. Like, when I was a teenager and I caught glimpses of TV ads for phone sex lines, I was always really interested in what would happen if I called them. And when I first started dating, a lot of the early flirtation and first times that sex came up with people I was flirting with or dating was over the phone, because we didn’t have cars, didn’t have an easy way to see each other right away, so I got really into flirting and also turning on the person that I was with, with my voice, over the phone. And I think that those things together solidified into it being able to turn me on, on its own, as an idea.

KS: What do you get out of it that you don’t get out of in-person sex?

SS: I don’t know that that’s quite how I would put it. I don’t know that I get a thing out of it that I can’t get out of in-person sex. It’s like how a blindfold works, in that, if you take away a sense, the other senses can get stronger. Like, if I close my eyes and I’m lying by myself, touching myself, and hear the person that I’m really into on the other side of the phone, I only have so much information to go on – just the things I can hear, and the things I can feel in my body – and those things get more intense, because I’m not processing a bunch of visual information, or touch information from another person, or scent. I have to imagine all that stuff, and the stuff that I do have, I can pay so much more attention to it.

KS: Yeah, that makes sense. And then, do you – I mean, I know the answer to this is yes, but – do you use the information that you get from phone sex for IRL sex?

SS: Yes, but I think it’s important to be careful about that, because it’s a different situation. So you can’t carry over consent. If somebody consents to something in a phone-sex scenario, you can’t just do that with them in person, ‘cause that’s not how that works.

KS: Yeah.

SS: And also, desires are different. Like I know that in our phone sex, we’ve done stuff that you’ve said you might not be into in person. And that’s a really good thing to check in on, because when you’re by yourself, safely, in your room, and it’s just voice, and nothing can make you feel a physical sensation without you doing it, it’s much easier to try stuff out that you’re not sure about, because there’s less risk involved. Less physical risk, I mean. Maybe there’s the same amount of emotional risk.

KS: Yeah. Well, I don’t know, though. I think it’s different.

SS: It feels different, and it feels safer to try stuff out. More like a brainstorm.

KS: Yeah. The other side of that is like, I think I pretty much would never wanna be dommy during phone sex, because that’s just not really how my dominance manifests. It’s more about doing stuff than saying stuff, I think. So I feel safer being dommy in person, which I didn’t realize until…

SS: Right. We realized that by me wanting that from you and you not quite knowing why that felt wrong to you, but that seems like a perfect encapsulation of it. ‘Cause you get satisfaction from the feedback loop of actually doing the thing. What is it about doing versus saying that can flip that switch for you?

KS: It’s really hard to pinpoint. I think part of it is, there are physical activities that I can do that put me in a dominant headspace, like facesitting or face-slapping, and I’m finding that if I can’t do those, it’s very hard for me to force myself into that headspace. But also, I feel like I’m just not a verbally confident person in general – which sounds weird, ‘cause I have a podcast and stuff – but I’m much better when I can collect my thoughts in writing. So I’ll be dommy via text, but I really struggle with it over the phone. I think also, I can’t read you as well that way.

SS: Yeah, we’ve done it over video once or twice, where I’ve been slapping myself on video for you, and I think that that solves the reading problem, because you’ve got more information.

KS: Right. And seeing that makes me feel dommier. So – this is kind of related – you’ve said to me that you enjoy being what you call a “phone-sex top,” i.e. doing most of the talking – which I find really… not confusing; I get it, ‘cause I know you, but it’s a little bit hard for me to wrap my head around, because it’s so different from what I get out of it and enjoy about it. But why is that what you like?

SS: I like the control that comes with that. It means that I can steer the scene and set up the action to flow in a way that will feel good for me, a progression that will feel good. I also like that it sort of feels like I’m playing an instrument, because I say things, I do things, and then I get these beautiful, short bursts back, of moans, or impact sounds, or whatever it is. And if I want more of that, ‘cause I want to be more turned on or if I want to touch myself faster or more intensely, I can amp up what I’m saying to get that response, and I like that feedback loop a lot.

KS: You’re really good at… I don’t wanna use the word “foreplay,” ‘cause we don’t like that word. But phone-sex foreplay… It’s very rarely like, “Oh, we’re gonna have phone sex now!” We just don’t really do that, and in-person sex is kind of like that too. For me, at least, it’s been relatively uncommon to just be like, “Let’s have sex now!” Usually it’s like, there’s some kind of escalating action. How do you start a phone-sex scene from just a regular conversation?

SS: Oh man. See, I don’t know that I feel like I’m really good at this. I think this is one of the things that I could still be better at. The most important thing, when considering this, is context. Making sure that the person you’re talking to is in the right physical space that they can have phone sex with you, the right frame of mind, they’re not super stressed or not interested, and you can figure that out more easily the better you know the person.

KS: Read the room. Yeah.

SS: Read the room. Exactly. But once you’ve got the right context, then it’s a very very similar skillset to flirting with somebody and initiating sex in person. You don’t jump straight into things; you talk about what you would do with the person if you were with them. Things that you miss about them, if you’ve had sex with them in person or been with them in person, like the way their skin feels, or talk about kissing… Ask them what they’re – I mean, it’s a cliché, but it’s a cliché for a reason – ask them what they’re wearing, because that also gives you information you can use later, when you’re asking them to take their clothes off, or telling them what clothes you would take off of them, depending on your dynamic. What are some other favorites? If, in your conversation, catching up on your days and stuff, the other person brings up a sexy scenario or something… Like, a thing that we often do is sort of go from “Well, what if we did this sometime?” to “Why don’t we just do that now? Would you be into that? What about right now?”

KS: That’s an improv trick. My coach used to always say, never be like, “I’m gonna do this thing in the future.” Start doing it, immediately, ‘cause that’s more exciting.

SS: Exactly. It’s very flirty to take something from the hypothetical into “Well, let’s just try it. What’s the worst that could happen?” So that’s a fun one.

KS: Tell me about your voice.

SS: [dommy voice] Mmm, what do you wanna know about it, cute stuff?

KS: What did you just call me?! You’ve never called me that in your life!

SS: [laughing] That’s a new one.

KS: Are you conscious of cultivating a voice for phone sex?

SS: Yes. I think we all have to do this in a lot of different contexts. People have different voices when they talk to their partner versus talking to a customer service agent, in person versus on the phone… We all modulate our voices based on context, and I definitely – because I like having phone sex a lot – have some vocal tricks for phone sex. [deeper, slower voice] And also, because I’m into hypnosis, and using hypnosis in kink contexts, there’s a lot of overlap… in developing a hypnotic voice and patter… that can be applied.

KS: [blushing and giggling] Oh god. Um. I’m journalist-ing very poorly.

SS: I wonder why! So, deeper, slower, these are some things that usually people tend to go for in phone-sex voice development. But the other extreme can totally work, too; it just depends on your role. Like, what are you trying to portray in the scene, in the dynamic, whatever?

KS: Yeah, it’s hilarious to me to hear how your voice changes when you’re playing a character. Like, clearly, you’re a theatre kid.

SS: Tell me more about that.

KS: Well, it’s just, I think a lot of people trying to do a teacher or a doctor thing would do a sexy teacher, a sexy doctor, but you kinda keep it real. Mostly. For a while.

SS: Right. The stuff they’re saying is sexy, but –

KS: Is it, though?!

SS: Sometimes. The situation is sexy. The vocal intonations don’t necessarily have to be overtly read as sexy, because the situation you’re setting up is sexy.

KS: Right. There are so many conversational branches I wanna follow from that. I wanna ask you about word choice and then also about theatre stuff. Which one first?

SS: Let’s take the first one first.

KS: Okay. We both are writers and cognizant of things like adjective choices. Is that important?

SS: Yes. It’s very important that the formality and word length and word choice match the energy that you want the other person to know that you’re feeling. So if you’re really really turned on and about to come, you’re probably gonna wanna use different words and different urgency in those words than if you’re just starting out a scene. And you want the other person to feel your arousal, desire for them, energy towards them in fucking them – you want them to feel that building through the course of the scene. So you want to ideally start out with less urgent-sounding words. Like, if you’re talking about kissing them and undressing them, that can be a little flowerier than when you’re trying to make them come.

KS: Okay, so I’m curious about… when the person gets close to coming, you encounter an issue which also comes up in dirty talk IRL, which is, some people (like me) have some kind of particular phrases or images that are really good at that moment. Do you worry about seeming repetitive? I don’t, ‘cause I’m, like, coming from the phrases, so I’m good. But is that something you worry about?

SS: Yes. Yes, that is something I worry about. This is a theatre thing, so, this isn’t maybe your theatre question, but this is a theatre answer. When you’re in a play, or a musical – anything with written dialogue – you have to say the same words every night, in the same order, and the trick of it is making it seem like you’re not saying the same words again in the same order. Like you’re coining the things that needed to be coined as new ideas. And even if I’m saying a lot of the same words to make you come every time, I want them to feel new in my body and in the way I’m portraying them, so it’s not just like I’m saying them because I’ve memorized a script or because I know that they work. I wanna say them because that’s what I want to say at that moment. Like I desperately want to say that because I want you to hear it.

KS: [giggles] You’re so hot. I can’t. I can’t.

SS: Why is that hot?

KS: ‘Cause you’re so thoughtful and articulate about this.

SS: I don’t feel that way.

KS: You are.

SS: Okay.

KS: Okay. Tell me how else a theatre background helps you with phone sex.

SS: A lot of the phone sex that we’ve had, and that I’ve had in general, incorporates some element of roleplay. Even if you’re having incredibly vanilla phone sex, a lot of the time you’re roleplaying that you’re together in person. You’re not talking about how you’re having phone sex the whole time. So you’re imagining a scenario that is not a true scenario, and then acting as though it is true. Imagining together in a shared space. So it’s incredibly relevant to have done a lot of that with other people and to have practiced it, because when you start doing theatre and you start learning how to act, it feels incredibly unnatural for most people. It feels fake, it feels like you are pretending, and like, “Why would anyone care?” and “This is really silly; why would anyone do this?” and if you’re not used to having phone sex, that’s probably how it will feel also. But if you push through that… If you can do it, I really recommend closing your eyes, because if you can close your eyes and let go of the fact that you’re talking into a piece of aluminum and glass and you’re not actually fucking anybody in person, you can get your brain to a place where it feels believable, or you can suspend your disbelief of it. And then you can start acting and saying and doing stuff that will make you and your partner feel really, really good, and that’s the fun part.

KS: Yeah, and I also think a lot about improv, and the connection there, like “yes, and”-ing. But also there’s the idea in improv, implicitly, that you don’t make fun of other people’s ideas. You support them and you expand upon them. And I think, like you said, when you’re acting or you’re roleplaying, everybody kind of sounds like an idiot, in a certain light, but there’s this necessary unspoken contract that you’re not gonna make fun of someone, ‘cause that’s not in the spirit of what you’re trying to build.

SS: Right. And if we all sound like an idiot in the same way, in the same universe, for long enough, then it stops sounding ridiculous and starts feeling like a new reality that we’re participating in.

KS: Yes, exactly.

SS: Also, there is the idea of acting as reacting. Acting is reacting. I think probably you would have more to say about that here, but it’s that even if you’re not topping or saying a lot of the action of the scene, you can’t check out, because if you check out, then you’re not having phone sex anymore. Your reactions and the timing of them are crucially important to maintaining the reality.

KS: Yeah. I think about this a lot when people make jokes about how, like, bottoms and submissives aren’t really doing very much, because being engaged and present and reacting to things is actually a lot, and can be really difficult.

SS: Yeah. It can. And I think it’s really tempting to treat phone sex like other types of conversations that we have with our partners, where maybe our attention is a little bit split. Like, maybe the Twitter timeline is up in the background, or we’re watching emails come in. And that is when phone sex goes off the rails in a really bad way, because the person that is having sex with you, from their perspective, they are having sex with you, and if you have just checked out and you’re in some totally other place, it feels really violating, almost. I know that sounds like a strong way to put it, but attention is so, so important.

KS: Yeah. It’s exactly like if you were fucking someone and you opened your eyes and you looked down and they were on their phone.

SS: Yeah, exactly.

KS: ‘Cause you’re doing a vulnerable thing and the person is ignoring it.

SS: Right.

KS: Does phone sex feel like real sex to you? However you want to define that?

SS: Yes. Yeah, absolutely. We had a conversation about this pretty early in our relationship, I think, where we talked about “What is sex?” and one of the differences between our answers was that I view phone sex as sex, and it’s totally real to me. It doesn’t feel like masturbation, even though that’s the technical physical thing that is happening. It feels totally like a form of partnered sex, just like fingering is a form of a partnered sex or blowjobs are a form of partnered sex. It’s just using your voice and ears as the sexual organs, and I guess the brain, more than the other stuff.

KS: Yeah, I remember that, ‘cause I remember saying that I didn’t view it as sex, and wouldn’t put it on my spreadsheet, but I think that that’s partly because the spreadsheet is for gathering information about physical things that I might refer to.

SS: Right. Also, it’d be a lot of work.

KS: Right, exactly. I could, and I used to note every single orgasm, but like… I grew tired of it. But yeah, I’ve come around on phone sex. I don’t know, I think it’s kind of an in-between space. But like, psychologically, certainly, it feels the same.

SS: That’s the most interesting part of sex to me, so yeah, it’s probably a values/priorities thing.


To be continued on Wednesday, when you’ll get to read about how we incorporate sadomasochism and trigger words into our phone sex!

Stop Giving Unsolicited Advice

Unsolicited advice is an epidemic, and it has to stop.

I literally can’t go a day on the internet without some random stranger popping out of nowhere to give me advice I neither asked for nor need. They’ll do it about anything. They’ll offer “wisdom” on sex and relationships (despite me having been a writer and educator in this field for nearly a quarter of my life), my mental and physical health (despite me knowing way more about my own situation than they do, certainly), business and money (despite me managing just fine). It’s infuriating.

Without a doubt, this scourge stems at least partly from systemic sexism. There is an implicit assumption, the world over, that women – and, frankly, anyone who isn’t a straight white able-bodied cis dude – don’t know what they’re doing and need guidance. This is insulting on many levels and also sometimes, I know, evades our critical judgment because we’re so used to media messages telling us which kinds of people are clueless and need help and which kinds of people are “qualified” to offer that help.

So I’m here to remind you, incase you forgot this or never learned it: your unsolicited advice is, in the vast majority of situations, unhelpful, unneeded, and best kept to yourself. Here are a few reasons why.

The person you’re advising may not want or need advice.

Many people talk about their problems just to blow off steam, or to express themselves in a bid for kinship and connection. They may well already have a solution in mind. They may well have encountered this very problem before, and already navigated it successfully. They may very well, for that matter, not even view it as a problem.

If someone hasn’t explicitly asked for advice, giving it is unnecessary and may even be met with (justified) anger and frustration. Try asking first, “Are you looking for advice on this?” or “Would you be open to hearing what I did when I was in that same situation?” or “Are you wanting empathy or strategy?

You don’t know the full context and thus aren’t qualified to give advice.

Unless you are someone’s literal doctor, therapist, etc., it is hiiiighly unlikely you have even half of the context you’d need in order to understand their problem and which solution(s) would be likeliest to help.

This is particularly true for health problems (mental or physical). You have no idea whether the advice you’re offering is compatible with the other person’s current treatment plan, preexisting conditions, health history, traumas, triggers, etc. You probably don’t even know whether they’ve already tried the thing you’re suggesting (and trust me, it’s likely that they have, or have ruled it out for quite valid reasons).

This is why people usually only ask for advice from close, trusted friends/mentors or actual goddamn professionals: very few people in anyone’s life will have the necessary context and expertise to be able to advise properly on that person’s problems. You’re statistically unlikely to be one of those people, especially if you’re just a stranger from the internet. So zip it.

Giving unsolicited advice is presumptuous and rude.

It’s a behavior that operates on the assumptions that a) you know this person’s problems and life better than they do, b) you’re smarter or more knowledgeable than them, on this topic or in general, and c) they care about what you have to say.

The person you’re advising, whether or not you realize it, has been living with the problem they’re experiencing, maybe for a long time. They know how that problem manifests in their life, and what has and has not worked for it in the past. You do not have that information, even if you’ve been through that problem in your own way in your own life. They did not ask you. You do not need to weigh in. The world will not be any poorer for you having decided to shut your mouth.

A Femme Lady in a Bulldog Chest Harness

It’s funny how your fashion choices can sometimes reflect an identity you haven’t even realized is yours yet. Take, for example, the pal of mine who delighted in dressing “like a lesbian” before she even knew she was queer, or my genderfluid beau who rocked Oxfords and bowties while still squarely identifying as a girl, or even my rock-star little brother who picked up a punk flair before ever picking up a drumstick. I feel this way about kinky aesthetics: they bounced around my brain long before I realized I was kinky, and maybe that means those kinks were there all along.

See, when it comes to kink, I was a relatively late bloomer. I believed I was vanilla many years into my sexual career – perhaps due to inexperience and a lack of self-knowledge, or perhaps because I was dating people who just didn’t bring my power-exchange proclivities to the surface. I was 23 by the time I seriously tried on the “submissive” label – and even then, it was tentative, theoretical. Black leather crept into my aesthetic before it progressed into my fantasies. I wore a collar and harness boots for how they looked and not how they could be used to fuck or submit. I blended leather-scented cologne with my femmier perfumes to add a kinky kick to my sillage.

I hadn’t given much thought to this history until last summer, when a vanilla-leaning femme friend asked me, in hushed tones, whether I thought it was “appropriative of kink culture” for her to wear a collar purely decoratively. I think in her case, borrowing from BDSM fashion was a subtle nod to that subculture – while when I did it, it was a cry to be noticed and welcomed by a community to which I somehow already knew I belonged. (A dominant boyfriend of mine once bemoaned this mismatch: “Now that places like Forever 21 are selling collars, I never know who to flirt with anymore!”)

Once I’d thoroughly explored my interests in collars and cuffs, I started to feel that familiar femme longing toward leather chest harnesses. These are traditionally associated with gay male culture and specifically with puppy play: a handler can attach a leash to his pup’s harness and tug him around. Do some Googling on bulldog-style harnesses and you’ll see plenty of references to how “masculine” they are, because of how they highlight a broad, brawny chest. I own a feminine-as-hell chest harness, too, but somehow I kept returning with aching curiosity to the classic look of a black leather bulldog harness. So I asked Spectrum Boutique to send me the one they carry, and tried it on with timid titillation.

It’s clear that this type of harness is not designed for people with boobs. It presses down on the tops of mine in a vaguely restrictive manner, and doesn’t even push them together for bonus cleavage. It yearns to stretch across flat expanses, but instead, I make it traverse my cushy curves. The effect is distinctly gender-weird when I clasp it over my girly dresses or thin crop tops.

But much of kink is about tiptoeing (or leaping, or pirouetting) into territory you daren’t explore in your everyday life. Within the confines of kink, I can be a little girl, a kitten, a Victorian housewife seeking treatment for her hysteria. Gender lines can be blurred and pushed; see, for example, the QueerPorn scene where cis women Tina Horn and Dylan Ryan call each other “Sir” and “boy” and flagrantly exercise their “vibrant gender imaginations.” See, too, the scene I did with my Sir last month where I painted his mouth with orange lipstick, called him my good pretty boy, and slid my pink glittery cock into his ass. Messing with gender through kink isn’t always imbued with humiliation, in the manner of the businessman forced to wear silk panties that belie his brash confidence; sometimes that gender-defiance is just exploration, experimentation, play. It can be another tool in your toolbox, like a paddle or a butt plug or – yes – a chest harness.

Whether I’m wearing this harness in or out of the bedroom, I feel like I’m flagging as the sex-weirdo I am – someone willing to try edgy acts, subvert norms, fight for the freedom to fuck howsoever I please. Visible markers of sexual identity, like this chest harness or the bi pride sticker on my notebook or the collar around my neck, help me stick out in a world that wants me silent and submissive (in the not-so-fun way). These sartorial signals are often extra important to people whose sexualities are systemically erased: queer femmes, for example, or bisexual folks, or disabled folks, among many other groups. Older queers sometimes mock younger ones for plastering themselves in rainbow flags, just as some seasoned kinksters scoff at “dilettantes” who load up on leather after watching their first Fifty Shades flick – but we shouldn’t tamp out these tentative explorations just because they seem surface-level. Sometimes these loud costumes are the lost shouts of a hidden identity, blooming into view.

 

Thanks to Spectrum Boutique for sending me the lovely Bruiser bulldog harness to try out! It’s available in three different sizes, to fit chests ranging from 36″ to 48″. Check out Spectrum’s wide selection of BDSM wearables if you’re craving more of the “kinky aesthetic” in your life!

Monthly Faves: Hypnosis & High Heels

July was beautiful, sunny, and happy! Here are some of the sexy things I loved this month…

Sex toys

• As I’ve told you before, I recommend my Sir a sex toy every month as part of a protocol we have. This month I suggested the Oxballs Spyro, a thuddy-as-fuck aluminum and silicone impact implement with a spiral emblazoned on it. We’re both into spanking and hypnosis, so this seemed like an ideal toy for us to use together (though I don’t know how practical the spiral on this toy is for actual hypnokink)!

• Speaking of spirals… My Mad Toto sleep mask got a lot of use this month – not only to help me sleep but also as part of a sensory deprivation scene I did with my Sir. He put this blindfold on me, along with a big pair of noise-canceling headphones playing one of my favorite instrumental albums (see the media section, below), cuffed me to my bed with my under-the-bed restraints, and proceeded to do all sorts of creative and pleasurable things to me. It was fun to fulfill a long-time fantasy of mine with someone I trust completely.

• Still loving my Weal & Breech purpleheart truncheon, and a similar wooden bat I own from Kronic Sensations. I generally prefer thuddy impact but I like how subspacey I get when hit with stingy implements, so I like that this type of toy strikes a good balance between those two extremes.

Fantasy fodder

• The phone sex I have with my Sir often reminds me of improv, in that we both have theatre training so we’re well used to spinning small suggestions into full-blown, vividly-imagined stories. (Lots more on that in a blog post series next week!) This month I was idly chatting with him on the phone about how I want to get my heart tattoo touched up sometime, and somehow that turned into me picturing him being the tattoo artist administering pain to that erogenous zone via a hot needle – which, of course, turned into a phone-sex scene about exactly that. I love that roleplay allows us to engage in high-stakes flirtation the likes of which would normally be impossible in an established relationship like ours, and that I get to see different sides of this person I love refracted in the characters he plays.

• I had a truly “wow, kink can be sooo romantic!” experience this month when Sir and I were hanging out in a beautiful park and no one else was around, so we decided to do a hypno scene real quick. (Carpe perversum, I say, i.e. always seize the opportunity to be a pervert.) He had me lay my head in his lap and took me down into a nice relaxing trance to the sounds of wind, distant traffic, and his sweetly, familiarly dominant voice. I love finding moments of kinky connection in public places, these little bubbles of intimacy that feel impenetrable to anyone but the two of us.

• (Content note: consensual non-consent, i.e. “rape” scenes.) My Sir and I have been discussing con non-con roleplays we could try, and recently decided it would be fun to do a scene where he gives me a long, relaxing massage (we both have kink feelz about massage and relaxation) until I’m so chilled out I can hardly move or talk, and then he “takes advantage of me.” We didn’t actually get around to doing this scene this month but I’ve been thinking about it a lot because it’s a synthesis of so many things I find hot…

Sexcetera

• Some of my work elsewhere this month: I was interviewed for Adultsmart about blogging, time management, sex education, and more. On our podcast, Bex and I talked about dry spells and celibacy, underrated sex acts, and exhibitionism and group sex, and interviewed Marcia Baczynski about sexual communication. I wrote about first-date mistakes, choosing online dating profile photos, and banishing pre-date nerves for RateDesi. And most excitingly: I won the Excellence in Bisexual Coverage award from the Association of LGBT Journalists!

• This coming Thursday, I’ll depart for the Woodhull Sexual Freedom Summit! Looking forward to seeing my blogger babes, speaking on a panel, doing a live Dildorks recording, and sharing a king-size hotel bed with my darlin’. It’s gonna be a blast! (If you’re going too, please come say hi if you spot me!) Major shout-out to the three sponsors who’ve helped fund my trip: SheVibe, Peepshow, and Friction.

Femme stuff

• Everyone’s been talking about The Ordinary for ages in skincare-land, and I finally hopped on that bandwagon this month by trying out their squalane. I mix a couple drops into my regular moisturizer, and it makes my skin feel soft and healthy.

• I got my hair color darkened up and feel so much better about it. Greyish roots begone! (My hair’s always done by Paul Taylor at Avalon; he’s a genius.)

• I am not normally a heels person, but bored to death of my go-to Frye boots, I’ve been trying out some more seasonally appropriate footwear options this month – mainly my yellow Lotta From Stockholm clogs and black Naturalizer pumps. Sometimes I don’t mind the wobbling and aching that comes along with wearing heels for me, because they make me feel so damn cute.

Media

• My friend Eva makes fantastic sex ed videos on YouTube. I particularly enjoyed this one about internalized biphobia and bisexual stereotypes.

• When we were planning our sensory deprivation scene (see above, in the sex toys section), my Sir asked me what I wanted to listen to in my headphones, and I immediately replied: The BQE by Sufjan Stevens. It’s “a cinematic suite inspired by the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway and the Hula-Hoop,” and it’s some of the most beautiful instrumental music I’ve ever heard. (Sleeping Invader and Traffic Shock are my favorite tracks, FYI, but you should really listen to the whole thing sometime because it flows together wonderfully.)

• I enjoyed reading Hallie Lieberman’s book Buzz: A Stimulating History of the Sex Toy. There are some valid criticisms of this book (mainly the way it glosses over or totally erases queer and trans folks’ role in this story) but I think it’s a decent overarching history of how the sex toy industry came to be.

• The Punch Brothers (whose sexy, baroque-influenced bluegrass music I’ve written about before) have a new album out: All Ashore. As per usual for them, it’s full of haunting melodies, clever lyrics, and stunning instrumentation. Chris Thile should consider making out with me. I’m just sayin’.

Little things

Canada Day in the park with Max and my mom. Summer sunsets. Sir sending me cute enamel pins as a reward for submitting some outstanding tax forms. Grooving to Christina Aguilera tunes with Sarah. An enthusiastic enby buying me a shot at a karaoke bar. This version of “Saw You in a Dream.” Sir singing to me over the phone. Laughing so hard my menstrual cup falls outWriting a new song as part of a D/s task. Sir making me a Twitter bot that tweets things which sound vaguely like things I would tweet (SO FUNNY). Solo cocktail dates with my journal and/or a book. Interviewing my Sir for a blog post series (just you wait!). Meeting Sir at the airport like the sappy romantic I am. Fancy date nights with my love. The steakhouse waitress who kept directing all her menu spiels to me even though Sir was ordering everything (I love her feminist chutzpah). Sitting in the “couples’ seat” at the Bad Dog. Stephin Merritt’s Project Song. Restocking my condom basket. Sir knowing all my sounds. People who react well to nudes. Brooklyn Nine-Nine headcanons. Renewing my theatre subscription. Drinking a gin smash and listening to jazz while writing about vibrators (the perfect evening).

Vibe Diaries: My Vital Vibrator Memories

New Year’s Eve 2007. I am 15 years old. Do they even let 15-year-olds into sex shops? I’m panicking and pacing outside my local feminist vibrator vendor. “Do they even let 15-year-olds into sex shops?” I ask my friend, who has brought me here today.

She shrugs. “I’ve been in before and no one said anything to me about age restrictions.” I gulp and follow her into the clean, quiet little shop.

After much deliberation – and, inevitably, too much giggling – I pick out a rubber duck vibrator and pay for it at the cash register. It’s not a great toy, or even a good one, not by 2018 standards, but teenage-me loves it. She takes it home, nicknames it Olivia (after Olivia Wilde), has many orgasms with it, and keeps it hidden in a pink hatbox beside her bed like a secret pleasure relic.

But first, she goes to a New Year’s party, gets drunk, and announces to the whole room of near-strangers that she just bought her first vibrator. What does it mean to be 15 if not to make an ass of yourself in public?

Spring 2008. The close friend who’s soon to become my first friend-with-benefits pulls me aside at a party. “Here it is,” she says, and hands me a plastic grocery bag containing a purple rabbit vibrator.

I asked her to bring this vibe tonight, because ever since she bought it last week, I’ve been curious as hell about it. Dual-stimulation? A twisting shaft, rotating beads, and buzzing bunny ears? Ever the burgeoning sex nerd, I gotta try this thing out for myself. And luckily, my friend is willing to let me give hers a test drive. What a pal.

I abscond to the bathroom and shove the thing into myself, unlubed and unaroused – so it’s no wonder I instantly hate it. “I don’t think it’s really my thing,” I tell my friend later when I return the vibe to her after cleaning it. Dual-stimulation vibes, still to this day, don’t do much for me – but I wonder if I’d like them more if my first foray into that category had been a bit more ceremonious.

Summer 2009 (ish). Having grown ever-so-slightly more discerning with age – not to mention braver – I wander back to the sex shop with a modest budget and a mission. It’s time for a vibrator upgrade.

After testing every single vibe on my hand, I settle on the Slimline G. Considered a “beginner-friendly” classic for a reason, it’s remarkably powerful for its price point, and made of hard plastic so it won’t burn your innards with phthalate fumes.

It’s also rumblier than the rubber duck, a concept I don’t yet have language for but can feel when I touch the toy to my skin. At 17, I don’t know about motor mechanics; I just know my new vibe triggers orgasms more easily and more pleasurably than I’m used to. I nickname this one Gavin, after an androgynous crush from Flickr. My sex toy collection is still small enough that I can individually name each toy, like they compose a happy family living in my hatbox.

Winter 2010. I take a sexually inexperienced friend to a sex shop – that same shop that was my first, so many years ago. She does a thing I no doubt did when I first came here, but didn’t realize, until now, that I’d probably done: she whispers. Like we’re in a library. Or a vibrary, I guess you could say.

“What does this one do?” she asks in the meekest little voice. “Isn’t this one a little big? How do these even work?”

I find myself feeling breezily confident as I answer her questions; my courage flows to complement the way hers is ebbing. We eventually settle on a bullet vibrator that meets her specifications.

When I see her at school the next morning, she’s glowing, grinning, a changed girl. “That vibrator is really something,” she announces, not whispering at all. I smile back at my dear friend.

Summer 2011. I’m dating a cis man for the first time and I just… can’t figure out this whole penis-in-vagina-sex thing. How do people do this? Why do people enjoy this? How do people get off from this?!

My partner wants nothing more than to make me come this way, however, so I give it a shot. I supply my own “extra” external stimulation during the act, first with my hand, and later with a clitoral vibrator. It takes focus, and effort, and determination, but eventually – with him thrusting inside me and me white-knuckling a vibe against my finicky clit – I come, and it’s quite unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

I wipe the sweat off my brow and announce, “We did it!” My boyfriend just laughs and keeps fucking me. He’s well-accustomed to what a weirdo I am by now.

 

This post was generously sponsored by the folks at The Adult Toy Shop. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.