Dildoface: Rainbow Amor

Dildoface: Rainbow Amor from Girly Juice on Vimeo.

Pride is one of my favorite dress-up occasions of the whole year. It’s common to see Pride spectators and participants wearing eye-gougingly bright colors, over-the-top kinky ensembles, or sometimes nothing at all. For a fan of the outrageous, it’s a beautiful time to be alive!

Inspired by Pride weekend here in Toronto, I decided to make a video. It’s the first in what’ll hopefully be a series of DILDO-INSPIRED MAKEUP TUTORIALS! (How did I never think of this before?!)

In this video, I show you how to do an obnoxiously bright rainbow eye look, inspired by the Fun Factory Rainbow Amor. It’s one of the cutest dildos in my collection, and even featured prominently in a strap-on selfie I took this morning. What better dildo to evoke an eyeshadow look?

If you want an Amor of your very own, you can get one at SheVibe. The rainbow version has been discontinued (boo!), but you can still get one in pink, orange, or black. Adorbz!

Let me know what you think of Dildoface: should I do more videos like this? What dildos from my collection would make for good makeup muses? I’m all ears!

Naked in Front of People: A Guide for Nudity Newbies

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Me and Caitlin at Body Pride

Last week, I went to Body Pride – again.

It was my third time going, so I know the ropes by now. But I remember when I attended my first one. It felt like there was so much to worry about.

In everyday life, probably only about 30% of your body, maximum, is showing at any given time. The upkeep of the rest is less important, because it’ll only be seen under special circumstances (e.g. during sex). But when you’re gonna be naked in front of people – especially for hours at a time, like at Body Pride workshops – there’s more to consider.

Granted, the whole point of Body Pride is self-acceptance. But you still probably want to look and feel your best. So here are my tips for preparing when you know you’ll be naked for a while – whether you’re shooting porn, going to a nudist colony, or just hangin’ out with some pals in the buff.

Test-run your makeup look in advance, if you wear makeup. I don’t quite know why, but some types of makeup look totally fine when you’re clothed but super weird and out of place once you get naked. I find that nudity pairs best with minimalistic looks – but on the other hand, if thick winged liner and fire-engine red lipstick will give you the confidence to rock your naked bod, by all means, go for it.

Wear a layered outfit that’s easy and quick to remove. Does that sound like a contradiction in terms? It shouldn’t – layers don’t necessarily have to be bulky or restrictive. The reason I recommend layers is that you might feel awkward if you’re the first person to get done undressing. You’ll be standing there completely nude while others are still shimmying out of their jeans. It’s best if your outfit can be removed quickly or slowly, so you can adjust your stripping speed to fit the vibe of the event. I usually like to wear a slip dress or nightgown (easy to step out of in a hurry) and a cardigan (allows for dawdling while I undo the buttons).

Do your body hair removal well in advance, if body hair removal is a thing that you do. Razor burn, ingrown hairs and post-wax rashes are not only unsightly but also uncomfortable. Give yourself at least a couple days between hair removal and naked-time, just incase something goes awry.

Moisturize. Cool clothes jazz up your appearance when you’re wearing them, but when you’re naked, moisturized skin provides a similarly polished effect. Trust me, it’s way cuter than dry, ashen skin. Moisturization is also important if you plan on doing any self-tanning before your big naked event.

Use internal menstrual products if you get your period. Menstrual cups, sponges, or tampons (with the string tucked inside) can all be basically invisible, even when you’re completely nude.

Think about butt and vag protection. This really depends on the location where you’ll be getting naked, and what you’ll be doing once you’re naked, but it’s worth thinking about. If you’ll be sitting on the floor or ground, you’ll probably want a pillow and/or towel so you don’t get dirt on your bare ass and/or vaginal fluids on somebody’s bare floor.

Maintain good posture and body language. I don’t know why, but slouching looks even less attractive than usual when a naked person does it. Contrastingly, there is something so sexy and beautiful about a straight-backed, lithe-looking person in the nude. When you’re naked, all your body’s shapes and lines are visually amplified, so make like a Botticelli babe and think long, tall, loose-limbed and elegant.

Ensure you’ll smell good. Naked bodies produce scents more readily than clothed ones; it’s a fact of life. You might want to expand the zones where you typically apply deodorant and/or perfume. (Don’t go overboard, though, especially since there might be some folks with scent sensitivities. Ask if you’re not sure!)

Enjoy yourself! Being naked is so much fun. In our culture, free-and-easy nudity is rare, so appreciate the opportunity when it comes your way. You may even find (as I do at the end of every Body Pride event) that being naked starts to feel like the most natural, lovely thing in the world!

How to Reply to Women on Twitter Without Disgracing Your Entire Gender: A Guide for Dudes

Being a woman on Twitter guarantees some level of harassment. That’s doubly true if you’re a woman who tweets about sex.

I created this post for two reasons: a) for the benefit of dudes who badly need this kind of instruction, and b) as a resource for women to send to douchebags on Twitter (and in other mediums, too, if they feel it’s useful in other contexts).

For that latter reason, I’ve put some page-jump codes into this post so that you can send dudes the link to the specific rule they’ve neglected to follow. Here are those links for easy sharing: Don’t mansplain, don’t answer questions no one has asked, don’t reply when a favorite would suffice, don’t favorite too many tweets, don’t be redundant, make valuable contributions, pay attention to context, read before you respond, don’t ask for pics, don’t oversexualize, don’t explain someone’s joke to her, accept you might be wrong, don’t demand anything, don’t tweet an email-sized query, proofread your tweet, and be generally respectful.

Without further ado… Here are my dos and don’ts for dudes on Twitter. These rules aren’t hard to follow, and yet you’d be shocked how many people break ’em.

Avoid mansplanation. Don’t explain things to women as if you know more than them, unless they’ve actually asked for an explanation or advice. Especially don’t explain women’s own experiences, ideas, and bodies to them – we’d know better than you would. Not sure if you’re mansplaining or not? Words like “actually” can be a tip-off.

Don’t answer a question that no one has asked. If I wanted to hear about your dick, your preferences in women, or what you think I should wear (or not wear), I would ask.

If your comment can be expressed by favoriting their tweet, do that instead. You probably don’t need to express your approval in multiple different ways. Favorite, or reply, or retweet. Don’t do a zillion things.

…But don’t go overboard with favoriting. Please don’t be the dude who combs through all my selfies and favorites all the sexual ones in a row. That’s just gross. Back off, dude, your inappropriate boner is showing.

Make sure what you’re saying hasn’t been said by someone else (including the woman you’re tweeting at). Redundancy is boring and not useful. You’re probably not as original and brilliant as you think you are. Especially don’t repeat a woman’s exact point in different words. If you desperately need to express your agreement, see above re: favoriting and retweeting.

Make sure what you’re saying is valuable, relevant, and actually contributes something to the conversation. Don’t just shove yourself into my day for no reason. If you don’t have anything particularly useful, interesting, or new to say, then you don’t need to say anything.

Stay aware of context. If you’re confused by someone’s tweet, flick through her previous tweets, bio, recent blog posts, etc. for possible clarification before you ask her about it. Please don’t be that idiot who has no idea what’s going on. And along those same lines…

Before tweeting about a blog post or link, actually read said blog post or link. I guarantee you, you will come across as a buffoon if you neglect to do this. If you haven’t read a post, you aren’t equipped to write about it, even on Twitter.

Avoid any and all variations of “Pics or it didn’t happen.” If a woman wanted to post a picture, she would do it. Asking for photos of her outfit, face, body, or anything else can come off as intensely creepy and inappropriate. Don’t do it.

Don’t make everything about sex. I know it’s hard for some dudes to get this through their heads, but even people who are openly sexual and sex-positive (e.g. sex bloggers) don’t want every interaction to be lascivious. Use your social intelligence (or if you don’t have any, get off Twitter until you do!) to figure out when a flirty response is appropriate (hint: very, very rarely) – and if in doubt, keep things respectful or just don’t reply at all.

Don’t explain a woman’s own joke to her. It’s surprising and strange how often this happens. It’s like some men don’t comprehend that women are actually capable of being funny, and so they assume that the jokes we make on Twitter are actually serious statements or we just don’t “get” that we’ve “accidentally” made a pun or joke. Assume we are brilliantly funny babes who know exactly how clever we are, and go from there.

Accept that you might be wrong. Exercise humility accordingly. I’m not sure if it’s due to systemic male privilege, or the argumentative nature of the internet, or cultural misogyny, or all of the above, but plenty of men on Twitter have the tendency to believe that they know best and that it’s their job to school other people. Practice saying (and typing!) the words, “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Use them when you need to – which might be more often than you think.

Don’t demand anything. Don’t ask us questions if you can find the answer on Google or elsewhere. Don’t ask us for “proof” of what we’re saying, especially if it’s something unprovable like a matter of personal experience. Don’t start sentences with “You have to.” In general, please remember: you are not entitled to our time or attention.

If your tweet requires a response longer than 140 characters, send it via email instead. Please don’t ask me a barrage of questions on Twitter and expect me to respond instantaneously, or at all. Seek out my email address and contact me there. It’s not hard – most folks will have theirs listed on their website, to which their Twitter profile will link. If you can’t find their email, tweet at them to ask for it, and be gracious if they decline to give it to you.

Proofread your tweet. I can guarantee that I will mock you if your tweet is riddled with errors. Also sometimes typos or autocorrect problems can make it impossible for me to understand what you were actually trying to say. If you care enough to type a tweet, you should care enough to make sure your message will be received and understood.

Just generally: be respectful, polite, and a decent fucking human being. It’s not that hard. If you don’t think you can follow these simple rules, a quick solution is to disable your Twitter account!

Anything I missed? What have you always wanted to tell dudes on Twitter? Got any horror stories to share?

Review: Tantus Sport

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SheVibe sent me the Tantus Sport months ago, and I’ve been slacking on my reviewer responsibilities. I tried it once and immediately declared it Boring. I began to dread trying it again, because sex toys are supposed to be fun and bad sex toys ruin orgasms.

I even brought the Sport with me to #DildoHoliday, thinking its mere presence in my suitcase would pressure me into giving it another shot. But nope. The only times I even touched it were for photo ops: I took the above photo of the Sport near the firepit of the beach house we were staying in, and I also set it up in my closet for an Instagram shot.

However, when I got back home to Toronto, I decided it was time to put the pedal to the metal and the Sport to my vag. And I’m glad I did, because it’s not nearly as boring as that first testing session had convinced me. (This, fledgling sex toy reviewers, is why you must always test toys at least three times before you review them!)

Certainly, the Sport won’t excite most dildo veterans. I’d guess that everyone who was at #DildoHoliday, with the possible exception of Reenie, would find the Sport too small to be satisfying. But that’s part of what makes it a worthwhile addition to Tantus’ catalogue. I’ve been complaining for years about the lack of good small dildos on the market; the Sport is the kind of dildo that me-from-two-years-ago would have loved.

The Sport’s ball-shaped head is 1.25″ across at its widest point, making the rest of the shaft significantly smaller than that. Because vaginas are muscular and snap back into shape rather than gaping like an open pit, dildos with a big head and a smaller shaft tend to stimulate the G-spot pretty effectively, even for folks who like their dildos huge.

True, as a vagina gets turned on and swells in arousal, it may start to crave something bigger, firmer, or both of the above. That’s definitely true for me when I’m using the Sport: it’s more flexible than my G-spot prefers, and seems to lose its efficacy as my arousal mounts. But as a G-spot warm-up toy, or even a straight-up G-spot toy for folks who like their toys on the smaller end of the spectrum, the Sport performs very well.

I still maintain that the Slow Drive is my favorite of Tantus’ smaller offerings. Its finger-shaped head seems to stroke my G-spot more deliberately than the Sport’s round one. The Slow Drive’s thinner head also enables it to get all up in my A-spot without angering my cervix; this is especially true of the Slow Drive Long.

But if you know your G-spot digs round heads, and you prefer your dildos smallish, I think the Sport will be just your cup of tea.

Thank you, SheVibe!

Interview: Kasuchi, my favorite fanfiction writer

The search for erotic media that actually turns you on is always a crapshoot. Some porn aligns with all your kinks but is poorly lit or sloppily shot. Some erotica is beautifully written but just doesn’t turn your crank, subject matter-wise. All too often, I settle for stuff that almost meets my needs, but falls short in one area or another. It’s a state of affairs to which I’ve become accustomed.

Of course, my pickiness makes it all the more exciting when I discover a piece of media that ticks all my boxes. And one such example is Kasuchi’s fanfiction. Like, all of it. Everything she writes.

The character development is on point. The prose is skilled and emotive. The voices are true to the shows she writes for. The sexy scenes are hott (yes, with two T’s). Y’all know I have high standards for fanfic, and Kasuchi is nonetheless my fave writer in the whole medium.

I bugged her for an interview, because I wanted to pick her brain about how she does what she does, and how she feels about fic as a whole. She was sweet enough to answer my fawning-fangirl questions, and what ensued was a super interesting chat about fiction, fandom, fucking, and consent (hell yeah!). I hope you like reading this as much as I like reading Kasuchi’s stories…

GJ: What, for you, is the appeal of writing fanfic? What do you get out of it?

Kasuchi: I LOVE writing fic. I’ve been doing it since I was 14, give or take? But I think what I started writing fic for was me wanting to see more of the thing I loved. I wanted more about what Hermione and Ron were doing with their lives. I wanted more about Mulder and Scully and all the moments we didn’t see on screen. I wanted more about what happened between episodes of The Office.

Nowadays, I think I write fic because I love the characters and want to expand and push and build them, see what happens under duress, see what happens (and feels natural, given what we know about who and how they are) when they’re put in non-comedic situations. I won’t also pretend some of it isn’t wish fulfillment; I want those two characters (any two characters, let’s be honest) to kiss, and to kiss passionately, right now, almost always.

GJ: What qualities/criteria do you consider important in good fanfic?

Kasuchi: Ah, that’s such a subjective question! Because I think everyone comes to media and their material with their own biases and prejudices and experiences, and those things color what we think of as being “good,” you know?

For me, I look for primarily three things:

(1) Dialogue — I need, NEED, the dialogue to be good, to be realistic, to be true to the characters. It doesn’t have to be exactly what the character would say in any given situation, because that’s not our job as fic writers. But, I have to believe that character would say that, meaning you (the author) have to do a lot of work to get me to that. If a generally goofy character is serious and responding with real gravitas, show me how and why that is before we get to that moment. Or, do that moment and then show me how we got there emotionally. Basically: is the dialogue naturalistic and natural to the character? If no, I click away.

(2) Narration has to flow — does the narration of the story match the tone? If we’ve got a story that’s about a character, like a vignette about their emotional growth, then the narration is everything, because it’s our (the readers’) glimpse into their inner monologue. If we’ve got a missing scene/moment kind of fic, then maybe the narration needs to get out of the way so that the dialogue can shine. For example, I’ve been writing characters who are detectives or generally observant; the narration tends to include notes about body language or expression changes, things I believe a good detective would notice and file away.

(3) Verisimilitude — Does this feel like real life? Since I’m not involved in many fantasy fandoms, this is really important. I love authors doing research on the setting of a show and including location details. Hell, I live in New York and write in details about Brooklyn into my fics about Brooklyn Nine-Nine all the time. I love that; it gives stories a sense of place and a better sense of how the fic itself fits into the larger world it resides in.

GJ: What qualities/criteria in a TV show (or other piece of media) make you want to write fanfic about it?

Kasuchi: Frankly: a lack of emotional resolution on some front. Shipping is the easiest one of these, but I wrote a lot of NCIS fic because the show was so rude to my fave character (Tony, and Tim to a lesser extent — and this was true of Psych, too) by always making him the butt of the joke or giving him the most depressing outcome and playing it for laughs. So I wrote fic to compensate for that, to make him more heroic or romantic or capable in a way that the show seemed determined to not do. That’s usually what gets me writing.

GJ: Do you have any tips for writing good sex scenes, in fanfic or fiction more generally?

Kasuchi: I’ve actually got a huge essay about this that I’ve been writing since, uh, last May (oops) but I think my best tip is: don’t do it before you’re ready. I was 16 when I read my first explicit sex scene, and I wrote my first one when I was 17. I didn’t even have my first kiss until I was 19! I wrote a lot of fade-to-black and sensual stuff before I felt more comfortable talking the mechanics of sex in fiction.

Now, from a more “authorly” perspective, I’d say: read romance novels. Read them voraciously. Read as many as you can. And not the category stuff (the Harlequins and Mills & Boon books), though adding some of those into your reading diet is good, too. Rather, read the single-issue stuff, the 250-page behemoths that usually have 3 scenes that are 20 pages of sex. Read those. Read erotica, the published stuff — Allison Tyler and Jaci Burton and Cathryn Fox and Lacey Alexander and Maya Banks and so many other women who have written — have BEEN writing — erotica for over a decade. Their work is there, and fanfiction is as much about the learning as it is the product. Go read the masters, go recreate their work. We all learn that way. I won’t pretend some of my early (unpublished? I honestly can’t remember) fic is me literally rewriting treatments of Mulder/Scully and Inuyasha/Kagome erotic fanfiction. Unless you’re having a lot of sex as research (which, hey, no shame in that game), the reading of novels/short stories is much easier.

The most important thing: do not use pornography as a template. Porn tends to be soulless and empty, with at least one of the parties mentally disengaged. Some pornography isn’t like this, but those studios are few and far between and often cater to queer markets. That’s fine, but if you want to show intimacy in your erotic scenes, I would urge reading written material and using pornography (or gifs of pornography) as inspiration rather than a guide.

GJ: Do you consciously choose to integrate enthusiastic consent into the sexy parts of your stories? (One of my favorite examples is that moment in “I’ll Know My Name As It’s Called Again” when Jake pulls at Amy’s pants and says “Yeah?” and she says “Yeah.” So perfect!) Do you think erotica writers have an obligation to include this element, or can erotica be “escapism” that doesn’t conform to real-life sexual rules?

Kasuchi: Oooh, this is a really big question. I think I’ll try to answer it by going backwards.

I don’t think that erotica has an obligation to include these moments of consent. But: I’d also differentiate between “types” of erotica.

I think published work and erotic fanfiction should include these moments. Here’s why: for the published stuff, art tends to serve as a bellweather and a measure of social acceptance and change. We can see this most obviously with drunk driving; thanks to television, the idea of driving home drunk is pretty anathema to most of the “millennial” set. In the same vein, what we consume (i.e. erotica, which when published is essentially “curated”) should serve as a way of normalizing consent. I know many people come to read erotica for different reasons, but no one is going to prevent young, curious teens from checking those books out from the library or sneaking them out of their parents’ rooms or buying them along with YA stuff from the bookstore. Hell, with the e-readers, it doesn’t even matter!

So in that sense, erotica becomes for women (and I use women here only because I think women are socialized to seek out reading material rather than audio-visual material, and because these books target women in turn) — most especially young women — a gateway to getting questions answered. To that end, yes, erotica needs to include consent. And, for similar reasons, we need to have those moments of enthusiastic consent written into our fanfiction. Fandom as an audience tends to skew young, I think; I’m 25 and I feel like the Old Lady in the Room, sometimes. So, knowing this, I think fic has a responsibility to be the change we want to see in the world. I know I learned a lot about the world, about relationships, about women and friendships and families from fanfiction and other writings. Knowing that, I tend to do a huge amount of research for stories because I want to pass on that gift of learning from fic onto the next “generation” of fandom.

I do think there’s a space for escapist erotica, though. Kinkmemes are explicitly that: wish-fulfillment. Same for Literotica; despite its classy title, it’s sorted by kink, and that’s important, because going in, you know what you’re getting yourself into. I won’t pretend there aren’t erotic stories that I go back to that I fully know are escapism. The delineating factor there is knowing what purpose that work serves. It titillates and it touches on taboo subjects and it is me going into the story aware of its hows and whys. That’s not the same as me reading a fic that pretends to be about my two faves having a romantic weekend away together, but then there being elements of non- and dub-con. Warnings exist for this reason. Kinkmemes exist for this reason. Consent should and must be a natural, normal part of sex, just like condom/prophylactic use is de rigeur in most pornographic films and even in published erotica and contemporary (and even some historical!) romances.

Do I consciously choose to integrate it into my stories? At first, no. But at this point, not doing so doesn’t feel like Jake Peralta (in this specific instance) — but I feel I’ll keep writing that into my more erotic work. I like it because it gives the reader a moment to take a breath before the rest of the story goes, and it gives the characters a moment to check in with each other, something that I think is hard to “choreography” into a love scene naturally as it progresses.

For the scene you reference specifically, Jake tugs at her waistband but doesn’t pull them off of Amy until she says yes. Consent is freely, enthusiastically, continuously given. And, I love the idea of one character giving the other an “out” because I think that’s just fair. Plus, it’s such a great character moment; the one giving the out is doing so out of affection and insecurity; in doing so, they’re saying, “It’s okay, we don’t have to go further than this.” And the other, in reaffirming their consent, is saying to the other, “You’re the one that I want.” In what universe is that anything but simultaneously hot and moving? Consent is 100% sexy.