My First Threesome Was a Smash Success

Kate Sloan

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On Friday night I cracked open a fortune cookie and it told me my life is becoming more of an adventure… in bed. I didn’t give this prediction much thought, because, you know, it came from a fortune cookie.

But then, the next night, I had my first threesome, so maybe the cookie was onto something.

 

I have a beautiful, blonde, effervescent friend who I’ve known for almost 10 years. We met through Livejournal and bonded over a shared dorky enthusiasm for musical theatre. As it happened, we both ended up running in the same sex-positive feminist circles as we got older, so we’ve been reconnecting recently after a long period of mostly being casual-pals-from-afar.

She invited me over for what we thought was going to be a quiet night: dinner, conversation, and “Netflix and chill” in the literal sense. But then we went a little hard on the wine, some clothes came off, and we got into some slutty chats with her rowdy roommate… One thing led to another, and it was decided we should go out. My friend gave me a cute dress and jacket to wear, and we put on some sky-high heels and headed out to a loud underground bar.

She and I got to talking about a dapper dom guy we both know and have both banged, and we agreed (half-jokingly, except completely-seriously) that we should have a three-way with him someday. I am standing on the precipice of having a full-on Slut Phase and my blondie pal had agreed to be my mentor in this endeavor – my Slut Sherpa, or the Dumblewhore to my Ron Sleazy, if you will – and orchestrating a threesome seemed like a great way to kick that off.

When I get tipsy, I get flirty and text-happy, so of course we notified our mutual bang-buddy of our plan, not really expecting him to take us seriously. But, y’know, we’re foxy babes with feminine wiles, so he agreed pretty quick. “That’s a lot of babe for one dude,” he texted, to which I replied: “I think you can handle it.”

He met us at the bar and we cabbed back to his place. We talked for a long while, and did that tipsy thing where you all giggle over Facebook photos of your exes, and the boy let me borrow a pair of his socks because my feet were cold (quel gentleman). And then we migrated to the bed and cuddled a bunch. And boobs were (consensually) shoved into faces, and then she started giving him a blowjob while I kissed him… which I wish I’d been more alert/sober for, honestly, because holy shit, it was the logical next step in my blowjob porn obsession. Hnnnggg.

It’s often hard for me to remember the order of events in sex with just two people, because bodies blur together and pleasure makes brains into mush… so with three people, obviously this problem is exacerbated. Plus, when cute people are doing pleasurable things to me, my eyes tend to drift closed, making it hard to follow the action. But I do remember a cock in my hand, and mouths on my nipples, and a hand rubbing me through my panties, and fingers in my mouth, and a hand on my throat, and my tits being slapped, and and and… smiling-face-with-heart-shaped-eyes

Eventually my beautiful friend took off my panties and started going down on me. She had already displayed her blowjob prowess earlier in the night and now she was proving her cunnilingual skills too. I don’t know if you have ever had the experience of knowing someone platonically for a long-ass time and then having sex with them, but… wow. It is eye-opening and strange and fantastic.

If our threesome was a porn scene, what happened next would’ve been the centrepiece shot: he started fucking her from behind while she continued licking and finger-fucking me. His thrusts reverberated through her body so I could feel their impact too, so it was like he was fucking both of us. Ummm, yes.

I can’t remember too clearly but I think we wrapped things up with him coming in her mouth while I dozed beside them. (I am a sleepy person and had had a lot to drink, okay?!) And then we cuddled some more, and checked in with each other about our feeeeelings, and it was niiiice.

Afterwards, the boy asked me, “How many threesomes have you had before?” and I sleepily held up my hand in an “O” shape and said, “This many.” And then probably grinned like an idiot.
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When we got up to put our clothes back on, I found that my friend had neatly folded my underwear and the dress she’d let me borrow, and had put them in a pile for me. (Perfect sex partner etiquette.) We kissed our gentleman-pal goodbye and walked to the subway station together. She took this photo of me on the platform, and it sums up the whole evening pretty well: dishevelled post-sex hair, cute dress and jacket borrowed from her, warm boy-socks borrowed from him, red wedge heels I’d switched out for flats, and a goofy, sleepy smile on my face.

Shortly after this photo was taken, a random guy came up to us and asked us how our night had been. We burst out laughing, and my lovely amiga told him we’d “cemented our friendship” that night. He kept pressing us for details, and I don’t know if it was because I was tipsy or tired or just bursting to share the news with someone, but eventually I told him, “We just had a threesome with a guy we’ve both banged before.” The dude’s eyes practically fell out of his head, and we just laughed.

 

3 Cute Sex Toys For My Inner “Little”

Kate Sloan

My sexuality has taken a strange turn. And it’s fantastic.

It all started in a university class late last year. While listening to a hot lawyer lecture about freedom of expression and the Information Act, I found my mind drifting. “You’ve been a very bad girl,” said lawyer-dude in my transient fantasy, before tossing me over his lap, lifting my skirt and giving me a stern spanking.

When my mind finally snapped back to reality, I wondered, What the hell was that? Spanking had always been a mild interest of mine, but never in those fantasies had I regressed in age or craved a scolding. This handsome suited gentleman had awakened a long-dormant sexual persona in me: the bratty little girl who’s cruisin’ for a (consensual) bruisin’.

The age-play episode of Why Are People Into That?! just fanned the flames of my curiosity. And when I realized I had always felt sexiest in pigtails and schoolgirl skirts, everything made even more sense.

 

One of the ways you can explore “little space” to see if it’s right for you is by incorporating it into your masturbation. That way, you can experience that mindset before deciding whether to share it with a partner. And one of the most fun ways to do that, obviously, is with toys.

Here, then, are three products from OohSexToys.com.au that make my inner little girl want to cross her legs tightly and wriggle around in her chair…

 

If you’re gonna make-believe you’re a bunny rabbit, you might as well do it with a sweet-ass butt plug. This one comes in either silver- or gold-tone stainless steel, and the (faux) fur tail looks delightfully soft and sensual. Finish off the look with some bunny ears and a spot of pink face-paint on your nose, and you’ll be all set for a little-girl-pretending-to-be-a-rabbit scene. (A roleplay inside a roleplay? Is this Sexception?!)

 

Not to get too gender-essentialist on you, but hot pink is traditionally the color for little girls. Or at least, wearing hot pink makes me feel pretty damn little, in a very sweet way. Luckily, one of my favorite vibrators of all time, the We-Vibe Tango, comes in this saucy hue. Tie your hair into pigtails with some matching pink ribbon, pull up your magenta nightgown and go to town on yourself, little one.

 

Little girls like pretty things, and this glass dildo is basically a stained-glass work of art you can fuck yourself with. Its 1.3″ diameter also makes it a believable choice if you’re roleplaying as someone tiny: I love massive toys as much as the next size queen but I think my inner little might be put off by them.

 

Have you ever tried age-play, by yourself or with a partner? Does it creep you out or turn you on (or both)?

 

This post was sponsored, but as always, all writing and opinions are my own!

Monthly Faves: Spanking, Sexpo & Sideboob

Kate Sloan

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September was very sweet to me! (More like Sextember, am I right?!) Here’s what I enjoyed this month…

 

Toys

• It’s rare that I put a toy on this list that isn’t genitally-focused, but I would be remiss not to mention the glory that is the Tantus Pelt. I snapped one up this month after quietly lusting over it since its release, and it is absolutely the perfect paddle for me. The size, weight, thickness, and stingy-to-thuddy ratio are all on-point. Oh Tantus, you pervy geniuses.

• For one profoundly pleasurable evening, I borrowed a Fucking Sculptures Double Trouble from Bex, who was, in turn, borrowing it from Caitlin. I’m not sure I like it enough to drop $180 USD (~$240 CAD) on one of my own, but good heavens, the A-spot stimulation from the DT’s thinner/longer end made $240 seem like a small price to pay. Hmmm…

• I bought a Liberator Throe this month in a dark, glamorous New York sex shop. From my very first session with it, I could tell it was going to revolutionize my squirting adventures. It is a game-changer when you know you can actually relax and you won’t end up having to sleep on sodden sheets (or, worse, needing to wait until you finish your laundry before going to sleep). I used all my favorite G-spot toys with it and it valiantly protected my bed from squirt damage.

 

Fantasy fodder

• I’ve spent most of my adult life banging exclusively submissive and vanilla folks, despite knowing in my kinky little heart that I lean submissive. But then recently, I boned a handsome gent who is, as it turns out, very dom indeed. Needless to say, he occupied many of my saucier thoughts this month.

• My fave Toronto-based pornographers, Spit, put out a new video and it’s my favorite thing they’ve ever done. Granted, I know Jack and Lydia in person, so I feel a little closer to the action… but daaaamn, the subtle D/s dynamic in this scene is hot as hell and the performers’ playfulness melts my heart. (Side note: I dream of performing in a Spit scene someday… if I can find the right partner…)

• I am having aaaaall the little-girl feels lately. I mentioned “daddy kink” in my April faves when it first surfaced into my consciousness, and back then I felt very weird about it and struggled not to kink-shame myself every time it came up. However, I can’t deny that certain people just set off feelings of lusty littleness in me – like toppy partners who call me “good girl” and hot professors who teach me about child development. Unf.

 

Sexcetera

• In mid-September I went to a sexual health expo in New York, along with blogger pals Bex, Penny, Lilly, Lena, Hedonish, and more. We had some mixed feelings about the sexpo itself, but some of the presenters really blew my little sex-nerd mind. We learned about internal clit stimulation from Allison Moon, D/s boundary-setting from Mollena Williams, and sexual rut-breaking from Ducky Doolittle. It’s delicious to come home from an educational event with so many new ideas bouncing around in your brain!

• I’m writing a feature story about the Hitachi Magic Wand. As such, I’ve been carting my wand with me everywhere and occasionally delivering it to people’s homes so I can watch them use it as research. (Legitimate research… not pervy research… although, sometimes that too.) Life seems so much sunnier when you’ve got a Magic Wand in your inventory!

• I read through a lot of old journals this month, while trying to find one specific entry I wanted to reference in my blowjobs post, and I was struck by how gross it feels to read explicit descriptions of sex you once had with people you are no longer dating/attracted to. I’m glad I kept such a detailed history of my sex life from the get-go, because it’s crucial information when I want to look back and see how far I’ve come, but gawd it’s hard to slog through without gagging.

 

Fashion & beauty

• I did a lot of shopping in September. Whoops. Highlights: this Wednesday Addams dress from Modcloth (I was gonna wait til Halloween to show it off, but c’mon), a blue printed dress from H&M, and the glorious American Apparel acquisition I’ve been calling my “sideboob dress” (magically, it looks good on everyone). And speaking of my aforementioned little-girl inclinations: I ordered this from ASOS, and I think I need to put it on and convince some authoritative daddy-esque man to take me to a carnival and win me a stuffed animal or something. #LittleGirlSwag

• I am now the proud owner of a ring made to look like my vulva. Please give Catstache Accessories all your money because they did an incredibly beautiful job and got this masterpiece to me in a very reasonable amount of time. If you have fantasized about owning custom jewelry that resembles your genitals (and who hasn’t?!), I am telling you: now’s the time and Catstache is the place.

• Fall is officially here, and as such, dark lipsticks are my current jam. MAC Viva Glam 3 is the brownish-burgundy of my autumnal dreams.

 

What toys, fantasies and miscellany did you dig this month, lovelies?

Review: Jopen Lust L2

Kate Sloan

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I’m always hesitant to review new vibrators, because my clit’s standards are so high. Few vibes make it into my inner circle of classic faves. To win me over, a vibe has got to be rumbly enough, strong enough, pinpointed (but not too pinpointed), easy to hold, easy to charge (or plug in), not too loud, ideally waterproof, and easy to control in the heat of the moment.

The Jopen Lust L2 meets all of these criteria except that last one. (Boooo.) And as it turns out, that’s kind of an important criterion.

I requested the L2 from Peepshow Toys because I’d read some rhapsodic reviews from Dizzy and Peep. They have kinda picky clits, too, so I was intrigued by their enthusiasm about this toy.

And they’re right. It’s an underrated gem of a vibrator. Jopen has historically been very hit-or-miss: their Comet Wand is one of my favorite G-spot toys I’ve ever tried, and their rechargeables are generally considered decent (albeit weird), while their battery-powered vibes can be buzzy, disappointing, or sometimes absurdly overambitious.

But with toys like the L2, Jopen’s done what Lelo seems determined not to do: left off the bells and whistles, kept things simple, and created something that just works well.

The L2 is a cute little hot-pink crescent of silicone. It’s thicker at the base to give you something sturdy to hold onto, and thinner at the tip to give your clit (or other body parts) a little pinpointed action. I like that the tip isn’t so small as to feel laser-focused; it’s just right for me. In fact, its size and shape are similar to that of my clitoral glans when I’m really turned on, so this vibe stimulates my clit, my whole clit, and nothing but my clit. Perf.

The vibrations are a delight. They start rumbly and stay rumbly all the way up to the highest speed, which is easily strong enough to get me off on all but my most desensitized of days. In terms of clit-rumbling power, I’d put the L2 lower on the scale than my beloved Tango (almost nothing compares), but in roughly the same neighborhood as the Lelo Siri 2 and Jimmyjane Form 2. It satisfies my clitoral network in a way that buzzy, surface-level vibes can’t, and since that’s my main criterion for a successful vibrator, the L2 will probably hold a place of honor in my top drawer for a long time to come.

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The fly in the ointment, however, is the way you control the L2’s vibrations. It has only one button – always annoying, but I can deal with a one-button system if it’s relatively intuitive like the Tango‘s. The L2’s isn’t intuitive, at least not for me. You press the button once to turn the toy on, and then press and hold it to turn up the power. The problem is that if you accidentally press the button once instead of holding it down, the vibe turns off. Which, you know… is kind of a boner-killer if you’re, say, right about to come.

I bet I’d get used to this system if this was the only vibe I was regularly using, but it’s not. And as is, it’s a problem that’s mildly distracting at best and completely orgasm-ruining at worst. I can, and do, have terrific orgasms with the L2, but there’s usually lots of stops and starts on the way because I just can’t get used to how this damn button works.

That’s really the only complaint I have about the Jopen Lust L2, though. Its curvy shape sits neatly against my mons and arcs right into my clit. Its silicone is smooth enough to feel good on my vulva but grippy enough to hold onto. Its motor rules. It’s waterproof, very quiet, and cute.

Dat button, tho. It’s the L2’s hamartia, its Achilles heel. Maybe one day I’ll stop being frustrated with it… but that day is not today.

Thank you to the cuties at Peepshow Toys for sending me the L2 to review!

“Sex Blogger” Is Not My Entire Personality (+ How to Date/Court a Sex Blogger)

Kate Sloan

Here is a paradox for you:

When I do any kind of online dating, or even (gasp!) in-person dating, “I have a sex blog” is one of the first pieces of information I always reveal about myself. It acts simultaneously as a conversation starter and a filter, scaring away the people who are intimidated by open sex-positivity while pulling in those who are intrigued by it.

But it also starts the interaction on a wacky, imbalanced note – because everyone has different notions about how they “should” talk to a sex blogger, and it’s rare that that notion is just “treat her like a regular person.”

 

I recently made the not-entirely-thought-out decision to link my Tinder account to my Instagram page. Naturally, a sea of dudes immediately followed me. The number of messages in my Tinder inbox, and the intensity of their creepiness, shot up.

This shouldn’t be surprising. And some people would say, “What did you expect? Why do you put that information in your profile if you don’t like the reactions it gets you?”

This feels like borderline victim-blaming, but I’m not even 100% comfortable making that claim. Because, yes, I am a sex blogger and should therefore theoretically be okay with receiving sexual attention. It’s what I’ve “signed up for,” especially when I’m interacting on already-sexual platforms like Tinder.

But, ugh. I don’t mind if people get sexual with me sometimes – it just has to be consensual, and for fuck’s sake, polite.

 

I think it surprises some people to discover that although I am a sex blogger, I am not actually a nymphomaniac. (There’s nothing wrong with having a super high libido or with pursuing lots of sexual experiences and/or partners. That’s just not really who I am or what I do.)

I have always had an interest in sexuality as a topic. It’s almost a theoretical or academic fascination for me. I know a lot about it, I think a lot about it, I find it compelling to talk about and learn about – but my life doesn’t actually revolve around the act of sex itself. I, like most people, am way more complex and nuanced than That One Thing you happen to know about me.

When someone learns about my sex blogging right off the bat, too often they put me on a weird pedestal where I’m supposed to perform the role of the “sexy lady.” I feel boxed into explicit conversations, high expectations, and being “up for anything.”

And let’s be real: I am definitely not sexy 100% of the time. I am goofy and strange, shy and awkward. I have interests and hobbies (so many!) that have nothing to do with sex. And if I’m going to date someone – or even just fuck them – I want them to know that. I want them to see the totality of me, acknowledge me, accept me, approve of me.

 

I’ve been dating a lot lately (ugh!/yay!) and have encountered two dudes who illustrated polar opposite ends of the “how (not) to treat a sex blogger” spectrum:

One guy fixated on my sex-related work. He asked me endless questions about my personal sexual tastes, which is pretty inappropriate for someone you’ve just met. He took my work as an invitation to fast-track our relationship toward sexytimes, even as I was pretty clearly pumping the brakes.

I tried to introduce other aspects of my personality, and other hobbies of mine, like I would do with anyone I was getting to know. I mentioned my journalistic work, my music, my improv background. I also asked him about his work and hobbies, scrounging for anything to talk about other than sex. But he kind of ignored me and kept hounding me about my sex life, fantasies and desires, as if there was literally nothing else of value in my whole brain.

The second guy, thank goodness, treated me like an actual human. We talked about my work, and he clearly found it interesting, but he didn’t press me for details and we didn’t get too personal. He’d periodically make a comment like, “We can talk about something else if you want; you probably get tired of talking about this stuff,” giving me an opportunity to change the subject if I wanted to. But because he was being so respectful, I actually loved our sex chats. He understood my fascinations with things like sexual ethics and the origins of kinks, and we talked for literal hours about sexuality in a way that was neither boring nor creepy. We also talked about other interests and pursuits, mine and his.

This guy was hesitant to make a move – not that it’s always the man’s responsibility to take initiative, because it isn’t – and it turned out he was worried I’d think he was creepy if he assumed I’d be DTF just ’cause I’m a sex blogger. I was DTF, but it wasn’t because I write about sex – it was because I loved spending time with him, felt totally comfortable with him, and found him incredibly attractive. (Amazing how sex bloggers’ attractions work just like other people’s attractions, huh?!)

 

This has all been pretty rambly so far, so here are some actionable items if you want to interact with someone who blogs about sex or works in some other sex-related field. (Keep in mind that these suggestions are based on what I prefer and value; as always, everyone is different so your mileage may vary.)

  • Ask me about non-sex-related stuff too. Remember that sex blogging is my job, not my whole life. Would you ask your dentist friend to look at your teeth on the daily? Would you ask your lawyer friend to explain tort law to you when they’d just worked an 8-hour court day? Probably not. I have other shit going on, which I will gladly tell you about if you ask me what’s up. Listen, pay attention, follow the natural flow of the conversation like you would with any normal human.
  • Give me an “out.” Despite what I just said, I actually do like talking about sex – in the right context, with the right kind of people, some of the time. I work in this field because it fascinates me. If you’re getting the sense that I might be uncomfortable or bored with our current conversation, give me an easy opportunity to shift topics. I will if I want to.
  • Don’t get too personal. Unless we’re close friends, fucking on the regular, or maybe slightly drunk, I probably don’t want to tell you about my kinks and fantasies in too much detail. They might come up in the course of a conversation but please don’t badger me for specifics and examples. If I feel comfortable with you and it feels appropriate for the type of conversation we’re having, I might open up, but I’m not required to.
  • Likewise, don’t dump your TMI sex secrets on me. Or at least, don’t assume it’s okay to do this. There are definitely contexts in which this is okay and feels natural… but please oh please read my non-verbal and verbal cues and stop that shit if I seem uncomfortable. (Or just ask, “Is this okay? Do you want me to stop talking about this?”) I may not feel able to straight-up tell you, “I’m not comfortable talking about this,” either because I don’t know you well enough to know if I can trust you or because I am trying to be sex-positive and avoid shaming you for the desires or experiences you’re expressing to me.
  • When bringing up stuff you’ve read on my blog, my social media, etc., start small and see how it goes. It is gross if you immediately say something like, “That selfie you posted today gave me a boner,” or, “Reading your review of that dildo made me wish I could use it on you.” (You would be surprised how many guys think it is okay to open with lines like this!) If you want to talk about something you saw me post online, bring it up subtly, tactfully, and in such a way that I can easily navigate away from the topic if I’m uncomfortable.
  • Don’t assume I want to fuck you. It is okay to flirt with me, respectfully; it is okay to have a crush on me, and to express those feelings; but please don’t take my sex-blogger-ness as a substitute for the positive signals you would normally look for when flirting with someone. If I’m talking about sex a lot, it may or may not be an indicator of my feelings for you – but if I’m laughing at all your jokes, blushing, giggling, maintaining eye contact, leaning in close, making excuses to touch you, and doing all the other things that smitten-and-flirty people do, then you can take that as a green light, same as you would with any kind of person. ‘Cause guess what? I am a person!

 

Sex bloggers and other inhabitants of sexual fields: how do you navigate the dating world while being true to yourself but also discouraging creeps? Non-sex-world folks: is there anything else you’d like to know about how to approach dating/courting/fucking people like me, in a respectful way?