Monthly Faves: Sapphic Fiction & Clicky Keys

Kate Sloan

Hope your July has gone well! Here are some of the things I enjoyed most this month…

 

Media

• Melissa Broder, of “So Sad Today” fame, has a new novel out called Milk Fed which I loved. It’s about disordered eating, “mommy issues,” sapphic lust, and frozen yogurt, among other things.

• I finally got around to reading Allison Moon’s book on casual sex, Getting It, and I have to say – it’s an instant classic, worthy of being recommended alongside sex-world faves like Come As You Are and another book of Allison’s, Girl Sex 101. Buy a copy for anyone in your life who wants to improve their casual sex skills!

• Have you seen the game show Sexy Beasts on Netflix yet? It’s an extremely weird dating reality show where all the contestants have to wear horrible prosthetics that make them look animals, aliens, etc. which is supposed to encourage them to judge their prospective partner(s) on personality rather than looks. I wrote about it here. Definitely an interesting watch for sex nerds…

• It was cool seeing Bo Burnham’s Inside on the big screen at a local movie theatre this month. Interesting to see a film in that format that was clearly made for much smaller screens. Shout-out to the person at my screening who sang along with every word of the song “Shit”; I, too, find that to be the most relatable song in the whole special…

 

Products

• I’m typing this post on my new KnewKey keyboard. It is GORGEOUS. These devices are designed to look, feel, and sound like an old typewriter (albeit without requiring a ton of hand strength like my actual typewriter does), and so they make typing into a much more sensorily satisfying experience. There is something about the rhythm of clacking keys that seems to help me enter the flow-state trance of creativity much more easily. (If you want to buy your own, you can get $10 off with the coupon code “KATE” – neat!)

• As I mentioned earlier this month, I bought a cane recently. I’ve only needed to use it a few times so far, but I love having the option – and it helps that it’s very pretty! I would definitely recommend Fashionable Canes if you’re in the market for one. They were able to customize the size of mine to suit my height at no extra charge; I just had to measure myself and submit my info. Wonderful!

• I had been wanting a new desk chair for a while, because my old one was making my body ache. I finally ordered the Albin chair from Wayfair, which I liked because its aesthetic is fairly minimalistic but still fun (that pop of royal blue, swoon!), it fit the dimensions of the spot under my desk, and it seemed reasonably easy to assemble (a handywoman I am not). It was indeed pretty easy to put together, and I love that now I can sit comfortably at my desk for hours at a time!

• I got a new webcam – the Logitech C920S – and I love that it has a built-in privacy shutter, so I don’t constantly have to fret that hackers are watching me eat soup while I watch Twitch streams at 2 a.m.

• My love bought me a black leather pair of Louboutins as a findom task, and they are truly stunning. Super high heels, peeptoe, cute little knot detail in front. I’ve been enjoying wearing them around the house while cleaning, reading, etc. like a glamorous 1950s housewife.

 

Work & Appearances

• My episode of the Bawdy podcast came out! Tune in to hear a true story from my life about romance, mental illness, and espionage.

• The marvelous Mx. Nillin wrote a review of a blowjob porn video I starred in. It’s so full of compliments that I’m blushing just thinking about it!

• Speaking of people reviewing my content… Hollie April wrote some really sweet things about the Dildorks over on DiscoverPods.

• I received some physical copies of my book and it is soooo gorgeous in person. Preorder it here if you wanna learn about kink or just want to see the project I’ve been working on for the last couple years!

• My latest piece for the Insider was a deep-dive on condoms. I interviewed a urologist, a condoms expert, and a smattering of clever sex educators. Their wisdom, as well as my own tests with my partner, enabled me to list what I think is the best condom in each category – larger, smaller, for oral sex, for people with latex sensitivities, and so on.

• Here’s a column I wrote for Herizons magazine a few months ago, about when a recently-outed abuser’s ex-partner comes forward to either contrast or corroborate the allegations against him. It’s a piece that’s ultimately kinda about the false dichotomy of goodness versus badness, and the complicated ways in which we can experience differing versions of the same realities. (Content note: discussions of rape/assault, sexual abuse/harassment, and victim-blaming.)

• Recently on the Dildorks, we talked about sexual rejection, romantic rejection, polyamory Q&A, problems from the sex subreddit, coming out to your family, revitalizing your sex drive, and relationships with exes.

• Some of our recent guests on Question Box were musical theatre experts Emily Clark & Christi Esterle, queer cultural critic Matt Baume, video game YouTuber NintendoCapriSun, our friend Georgia, xBummerxBoysx hosts Alex Kolanko & Mike Carrozza, audio artist Mustin, and sex blogger Amy of Coffee & Kink.

• Some of my recent newsletters were about Sexy Beasts, Eyes Wide Shut as cuckolding porn, my current feelings about privacy online, pleasuring balls, the kinkiest movie I’ve ever seen, cult leaders’ usage of hypnosis, the “multiple intelligences” theory, the undeniable hotness of flirting, and what having celebrity crushes is like as a demisexual.

 

Good Causes

• The recent news about Simone Biles dropping out of the Olympics has prompted lots of conversations about mental health, and specifically, about Black women’s mental health. In light of that, why not donate to an organization aimed at helping improve Black folks’ lives, like the Foundation for Black Women’s Wellness or the Black Health Alliance?

• I found out a fact I didn’t know recently, which is that domestic violence surges in England after big sports games. Ugh. Some UK-based organizations that support domestic violence victims: the Refuge Against Domestic Violence (women-focused) and Galop (LGBTQ-focused).

• My city, Toronto, has been treating homeless folks horrendously lately (and, let’s be real, always). Covenant House is an organization that helps homeless youth in Toronto.

• The incomparable Lil Nas X has joined forces with the Bail Project to help incarcerated folks; donate to his bail fund here.

When Sex Toy Companies Take Credit for Other Companies’ Designs

Kate Sloan

I feel passionately that plagiarism is indefensible, in the sex toy industry and outside of it. It’s one thing to garner inspiration from someone else’s work, and even to “try on” their style while figuring out what your own style is – heaven knows I’ve done that – but to steal someone’s entire idea, and (even worse) pass it off as your own? Not cool.

I suppose this staunch belief of mine stems in large part from being a creator myself. It sucks to work on something for a long time, fine-tuning the concept and its execution, making sure it’s as good as it can be – and then see that someone else has totally ripped it off. This is especially egregious in cases where the imitator ends up making a ton more money than the originator, as with big companies like Shein stealing from small, indie designers. Too often, this process ends up concentrating cash into the hands of already-wealthy, privileged people, while financially devastating the oppressed and overlooked creators who made the thing in the first place. (Many of the designers Shein has plagiarized are Black women.) I get fucking incensed thinking about it, to be honest.

The latest instance of this that I’ve heard about is a kerfuffle between sex toy companies Osuga and Biird. When the former reached out recently to offer me their flagship toy, the Osuga Cuddly Bird, to review, I got major déjà vu. “Haven’t I already reviewed this?” I wondered, and then realized the toy looked exactly like the Biird Obii, which indeed I had previously reviewed.

I asked the folks at Osuga if the two toys were one and the same, and they replied to tell me this wild story: Biird had offered their services as an overseas distributor for the Cuddly Bird, since Osuga had not gone international yet, and despite Osuga’s explicit instructions that Biird was not to misrepresent themselves as having actually created the toy, they went ahead and did exactly that.

Evidently, Osuga had worked hard on this design. It’s an elegant and simple sex toy with a millennial, Instagram-friendly sensibility. It doesn’t “look like a sex toy,” per se, which I know is an important factor for people who value discretion or aesthetics. It’s such a great design, in fact, that it won a Red Dot Design Award in 2019. The chief designer on the project was Siting Lin, an industrial designer from Shenzhen with an impressive portfolio; it appears that some (or possibly all) of the other designers are Asian women as well (yay, underrepresented groups in tech!). But sometime after Netherlands-based company Biird took over some of the Cuddly Bird’s distribution, they renamed the product the Biird Obii, and began publicly taking credit for the design.

My contact at Osuga told me that when reviews of “Biird toys” started popping up on the internet (including here on my blog, for which I’m genuinely sorry – I should’ve done more research beforehand), they reached out to Biird to ask that they change the product name back to the Cuddly Bird and stop promoting it as if it were their own creation. Biird only half-complied with this request, changing the name back but continuing to claim on their website to this day that they created the toy “after years of research and tinkering.” Enraging!!

I’ve been informed that Osuga recently notified Biird that they are terminating the working relationship between the two companies, understandably. I have to wonder what Biird will do, now that they’re no longer able to take credit for other people’s hard work. Will they launch some new sex toys of their own? Doubtful. In my experience in this industry, “once a plagiarizer, always a plagiarizer.”

If you’re wondering what you can do about this injustice, I would suggest buying an Osuga vibrator directly from them if you’re in the market for one. The toy in question, the Osuga Cuddly Bird, is a great little pressure-wave clitoral stimulator that doubles as a bedside lamp (?!). They also make a toy called the Osuga G-Spa, which pairs clit stimulation with G-spot vibration. If you use the code “girlyjuice,” you can get $40 off your order, which is a great discount on toys that are already reasonably priced for how high-quality and well-designed they are.

Another thing you can do is something I neglected to do before reviewing the toy Biird claimed was theirs: do your research on sex toy companies. Some are ethical, and many are less so – and if that’s a factor that matters to you when shopping for sex toys, it’s best to be informed so you can support the folks doing good work. When painstaking labor and cutting-edge creativity go into the making of a product, I think it’s best to support the people who actually did that work – not the people who thought it was acceptable to coast on others’ success.

 

This post was sponsored by Osuga, but to be perfectly clear: as always, I really do believe everything I wrote in this post. It really does piss me off that someone ripped off their design, and I really do think it’s a fantastic design.

Review: Womanizer Premium

Kate Sloan

If toys like the Womanizer are meant to replicate cunnilingus – which is a subject of some debate in the industry – then I don’t think the technology is quite there yet. However, the luxe Womanizer Premium is one of the better options in its category, due to a number of innovations it introduces, even if it doesn’t quite scratch the right itch when I’m craving oral sex.

The folks at Lovehoney let me pick a toy to review for them, and I asked for the Womanizer Premium because I’ve had my eye on it ever since it launched. Available in a sophisticated navy blue (which I chose) amongst other shades, and boasting a sleek, ergonomic shape, this is certainly one of the most aesthetically pleasing Womanizers out there. (That may not be saying much, considering that the first Womanizer was leopard-print and rhinestoned, but still.) At $200, it’s one of the priciest pressure-wave toys I’ve ever seen – and aesthetically, I can see how it’s worthy of that price point. But what about how it actually feels?

Admittedly, a different toy – the Lelo Sila – instantly became my favorite pressure-wave toy when I first tried it, and it has remained so, for one key reason: its nozzle (or “mouth,” if you prefer) is big enough to stimulate my entire clitoral shaft, instead of just the hyper-sensitive tip of my clit. I have yet to find ANY other toy that does this, and I must have tried dozens at this point. (The closest I’ve found so far is the Satisfyer Curvy 2, which I would recommend if you want clit shaft stimulation but can’t afford Lelo’s pricey wares.) I don’t even have a particularly big clit, but most pressure-wave toys’ nozzles (including that of the Womanizer Premium) feel too small for my purposes, because I don’t want a ton of stimulation focused on the head of my clit. I know I’m not alone in this, because readers of mine have expressed similar sentiments. Why are more companies not meeting this need?

The Womanizer Premium even comes with two different nozzles, so you can theoretically swap between them for different sensations – but for me, they feel pretty much identical, and neither of them does the thing I actually want this type of toy to be able to do. The pressure waves in this one are on the rumblier side, so they do stimulate my internal clit to some extent, even if indirectly – but I still miss the way the Sila basically deepthroats my clit, rumbling its whole external length through my clitoral hood and inner labia.

But that’s a matter of personal taste. People who like direct, pinpoint clit stimulation would likely enjoy this toy, because it’s well-made and highly intuitive. It has 12 different intensity levels; I usually stay within the first 3-4 because they are plenty powerful enough for me. It also has a much-talked-about “autopilot mode” which allows you to lie back and let the toy decide when to change the intensity. As my friend Rae noted in their review, this mode feels much more like having actual partnered sex than a lot of other sex toys do. Unlike standard vibration patterns, the Womanizer’s autopilot mode takes its sweet time, transitioning smoothly between intensities like a partner who is paying attention to the hills and valleys of your sexual response. That said, the Womanizer isn’t actually paying attention to your body in that way, so sometimes this mode gets out of step with where I actually am in my arousal process. When that happens, though, I can just hit one button and I’ll be back in the standard choose-your-own-speed mode.

The buttons are one of the best things about this toy, actually. Specifically, the “+” button. Although the controls are positioned on the back of the toy where they can be hard to see during use, the “+” and “–” buttons are raised, and are noticeably different sizes from one another, so I can always turn the toy’s intensity up in a hurry when I need to, even in the dark. I love this feature!

I like that this Womanizer is shaped well for hands-free usage. In fact, as I write this, it is currently sandwiched between my thighs, and is maintaining a good seal around my clit without requiring much thigh pressure. I like to use it this way while I’m watching porn or reading erotica, especially in the bath (it’s waterproof), where being underwater seems to intensify the suction created by the air waves.

The “Smart Silence” feature first used in We-Vibe toys has been employed here too. It causes the toy to temporarily turn off whenever you lift it away from your body, resuming its stimulation once you press it to your clit again. I thought this feature would be annoying and finicky as it is in some We-Vibe toys, but they seem to have fixed it in the Womanizer Premium; it doesn’t tend to turn off when I want it to be on, though it occasionally does turn on when I want it to be off (such as when its nozzle brushes against the bedsheets when I set it aside for a moment to adjust my pillows or pick a different porn clip). You can also turn off this feature if you prefer. I’ve left it on, because I like that it saves battery power and also renders the toy nearly silent, since – as with most pressure-wave toys, and indeed most people – this one makes noise when there’s nothing in its “mouth” but quiets down significantly once it’s put to use.

The Womanizer Premium is shaped in such a way that it’d work great during PIV/intercourse. It’s flat-ish and ergonomic, and thus fits between bodies comfortably. However, the tip of the toy does extend a little over an inch past the end of the nozzle, which – depending on the distance between your clit and your vaginal opening – might be enough to make penetration difficult. I would likely reach for a more petite toy if I wanted pressure waves on my clit during PIV.

The Premium charges magnetically, is fully waterproof, and comes with a 5-year warranty. It’s perhaps the fanciest, nicest pressure-wave toy I’ve ever tried – but the size of its nozzle makes it not-quite-perfect for my body, because it does the clitoral equivalent of flicking a tongue against the head of a penis while forgetting that the shaft and balls exist. But hey, if you’re into that, you’d probably dig this gorgeous (albeit expensive) pleasure object.

 

Thanks to Lovehoney for sending me the Womanizer Premium to review!

“Are You Really Who You Say You Are?”: On Gatekeeping & Senseless Elitism

Kate Sloan

It’s weird when a thing that’s been a part of your life for a long time suddenly gains mainstream popularity. I remember feeling this way when the Fifty Shades novels and movies went viral, popularizing kink and BDSM among people who previously might have sneered at it or not known it existed at all. It reminded me, oddly enough, of when Pokémon Go became a hit game in 2016 and it instantly seemed as if everyone I knew was obsessed with the same game franchise I used to get bullied for liking when I was 8. Cognitive dissonance, man.

In moments like those, an internal war always erupts between the snobby, snarky part of me that loves to gatekeep, and the more mature and compassionate part of me that just wants everyone to be happy. Like, is it really that big a deal that way more people can recognize a flogger (or a Mewtwo) on sight now than they could a decade ago? Is it actually helping anyone when I roll my eyes at these people and dismiss them as “not real fans” or “not real kinksters,” or is it just enabling me to feel high and mighty, like an indie-rock snob whose old-school fave just hit the Billboard Top 50?

I feel especially conflicted about this when there are smart people making good points on both sides of the argument – as with the debates this past year about the “gentrification of OnlyFans.” Porn performers who’ve made their livings on the site for years are understandably upset that controversial celebrities like Bella Thorne and Caroline Calloway can sweep in at any moment, earning a fortune in a single day, while long-time sex workers still have to struggle against the stigma and logistical hurdles placed in their way by our sex-negative culture. On the other hand, I also understand why so many people during this pandemic went, “Wait, how much money do pornstars make?!” and created an OnlyFans page to help make ends meet during this tough time. Granted, those folks don’t have nearly as much of an economic impact on other sex workers as celebrities do, nor do they have nearly the same amount of institutional power to sway public opinion about sex work, but it can be hard nonetheless to turn off the judgmental, elitist, self-protective voice whispering in my ear about people “jumping on bandwagons.”

I’m not an OnlyFans user, as either a creator or a fan, so I can’t really speak to the politics and ethics of that site and the people on it. But I’ve been thinking about this type of gatekeeping lately because it seems to be coming up in a lot of different areas right now. I recently heard a rumor that a guy I used to know had come out as demisexual, like me, and I found myself reflexively rolling my eyes. “I don’t know if that’s true,” I scoffed derisively. “I knew him for years and he never seemed that demi to me. I think he’s just jumping onto the bandwagon.” But as soon as those words left my mouth, I could hear how horrible they sounded – and how much they actually sounded exactly like my own self-judgments when I came out as demisexual. I know, of course, that not all demisexual people “seem demisexual,” that a person’s sexual behavior doesn’t always match their sexual identity perfectly, that sexual identities can shift over time, and that people have the right to self-identify however they choose. I realized in that moment that I was 100% just projecting my own insecurity and self-doubt onto this guy who hadn’t even done anything wrong, and who is almost certainly just as demisexual as he says he is.

The farther back I peer into my own sexual history, the more of this type of gatekeeping I can remember. I was frequently gatekept when I came out as bisexual at age 15; friends and internet strangers insisted I was actually gay, or actually straight, or would grow out of my identity. My long-time volunteering gig at a queer organization became untenable when a new coordinator was hired and noticeably treated the femme queers (myself included) worse than everyone else, in a way that felt like she low-key didn’t believe we were really queer. Some random person booed me when I kissed my (queer ally) boyfriend at a Pride event, as if they’d never heard of bisexuality.

Thinking about these incidents makes me deeply sad, because each and every one of them was invalidating beyond measure. Queer and trans people are already at higher risk of social ostracization, stigmatization, and suicidality than straight cis people; is it really necessary for us to perpetuate these forces against people in our own communities? Who does it actually help when we boo a bisexual, or insist asexuals have no place at Pride, or tell a newly-out enby that they’re “not trans enough”? Aren’t we just picking up the same weapons that’ve been used on us forever, and turning them on the people who most need our love and acceptance?

Let me be clear: it’s not that I think gatekeeping is never appropriate. Those OnlyFans celebs demonstrably made life harder for sex workers on the site; likewise, I don’t think it’s always appropriate for straight cis allosexual people to be in LGBTQ+ spaces, I don’t think white folks have any right to infiltrate POC-specific events, and I don’t think anti-trans bigots get to call themselves feminists. But these are extreme cases, and most gatekeeping in the queer community seems to target people who it makes no sense to target.

Next time you find yourself thinking, “That person doesn’t seem like they belong here,” or “What a poser,” or “Are they really who they say they are?” maybe you’ll think twice, and instead ask yourself: Does it really help anybody when I gatekeep? Or does it just isolate and invalidate someone who could really use the support of a loving, accepting community?

 

This post was sponsored. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.

Can Demisexuals Have Casual Sex? (& If So, How?!)

Kate Sloan

Ever since I came out as demisexual 2 years ago, people have had a lot of questions for me about that identity. Some of these include:

Q. What is demisexuality?
A. It’s an identity on the asexual spectrum, characterized by developing sexual attraction only to people with whom one has an existing emotional connection. In other words, demisexuals don’t (and indeed, can’t) become sexually attracted to strangers, or people they have just met and know nothing about; it takes some amount of intimacy, mutual trust, and/or get-to-know-ya time before a demi person can develop a sexual attraction.

Q. How is that different from just preferring sex in relationships over hookups/one-night stands?
A. What you’re describing is a preference; what I’m describing is a sexual orientation. If you don’t like hookups but nonetheless find yourself regularly feeling sexually attracted to people you don’t know or have just met – such as thinking the stranger across the bar is hot, or wishing you could fuck the cute person who just walked past you on the street – then you aren’t demisexual. Also, it’s worth noting that sexual orientation and sexual behavior do not always “match,” so just because a demisexual may not feel sexual attraction toward a person they’ve just met doesn’t automatically mean that they won’t hook up with that person, or won’t enjoy hooking up with that person.

Q. Wait, what? Why would you hook up with someone you’re not sexually attracted to?
A. Oh, gosh. So many reasons. For me personally, the main reasons I do this tend to be 1) the desire for the fun, excitement, and pleasure of the hookup itself, which can exist independently of whether or not I’m attracted to the person I’m hooking up with, and 2) the desire to use sex to get to know someone, so an attraction may develop. (It’s important to remember, too, in trying to understand this concept, that “not attracted to” is not usually the same thing as “repulsed by.”)

 

I thought today would be a good day to dive a little deeper on a question that is related to these, which is: Can demisexuals have casual sex? Or, more to the point, can they enjoy it?

I have indeed jumped onto a free sex app looking for a carnal meet-cute from time to time. I have swept my eyes over the stranger chatting me up at a sex club and thought, “Sure.” I am not immune to these temptations, though for me they are not based on sexual attraction. They’re more based on a desire for pleasure, excitement, and adventure.

In some ways, I think of sex like dancing. Some people say dancing is the most romantic, the most intimate and fun, when you do it with someone you’re in love with, or even just someone you’re attracted to. It may give you that buzzy feeling of crackling energy flowing between you, the desire to lean in close for an impulsive kiss, the sense that everyone else in the room has faded away and it’s just you and your dance partner, whirling and gyrating. But at the same time, I’m sure you can think of instances when you’ve danced with (or near) someone you weren’t in love with, weren’t even attracted to, and still had a good time. Perhaps you didn’t even know their name. Maybe the music was good, or the athleticism of the dancing got your heart rate up in an invigorating way, or you just enjoyed the fun of getting to know someone from the way they move. It may not have even mattered if you ever saw the person again; your one shared dance was a self-contained encounter that was pleasing in and of itself, and required neither a deep emotional connection nor a later reunion for more dancing. It is likely that your dance partner, or you, simply disappeared into the night sometime after the song was over, and you both moved on with your lives, not feeling pulled to reunite and reconnect, but still happy to have shared that experience with someone who seemed cool.

That’s how I feel about casual sex as a demisexual. It’s not necessarily the best version of sex I can have, or the most emotionally resonant, but that’s not really the point. It’s about fun and frivolity and feeling alive.

 

I suppose this raises the ethical question of whether your “dance partners” – by which I mean sex partners – need to know you’re not attracted to them. After all, to visit site after site and use app after app searching for a hookup can be an exhausting process; if mutual attraction is what they’re after, don’t they deserve to know upfront that it’s not an option, so they can swipe left and move on to the next?

I actually don’t think so, and here’s why. Most people don’t know what demisexuality is. Hell, most people don’t even know what asexuality is. They have not probed the concepts of sexual orientation versus sexual behavior. They have not pondered the ways a person can enjoy sex without attraction. So all they’re gonna hear, when you try to explain, is “I find you repulsive, but I’ll still have sex with you, if you want, I guess,” even if that’s not at all what you feel you’re expressing.

Should an opportunity arise in conversation, I’ll sometimes disclose something like, “I generally take a while to warm up to people,” or “I enjoy sex more when it’s with someone I’ve already had sex with a few times.” These statements have the added benefit of planting the seed in the other person’s head that you’d be open to an ongoing friends-with-benefits arrangement or similar, rather than just a one-off encounter. But they’re also a way of telling your date the truth about yourself, hopefully without making them feel like a gross gargoyle being thrown a bone (so to speak).

 

I will say, my demisexuality works more like a dimmer switch than an on/off toggle. If a deep emotional connection gets me hot, a shallower-but-still-present emotional connection gets me… warm. This – among other, more practical reasons, like my physical safety – is why I prefer to go on a date that may or may not end in a hookup, rather than just going over to a stranger’s house (or inviting them over to mine) for immediate sex. You typically can’t develop profound intimacy in the timespan of just one date, but you can develop some intimacy. I like to ask people not only basic first-date questions (job, family, hobbies) but also slightly more probing questions, that may reveal something deeper about who they are, such as:

  • What’s your passion?
  • Read any good books lately?
  • Does the climate crisis worry you?
  • Overall, are you happy with your life?
  • What’s the best thing that’s happened to you today?
  • What’s the last thing that made you laugh really, really hard?

Beyond helping make attraction possible for me (even if it’s just a mild attraction), these types of questions are also just… fun to hear people answer, even people you’ve just met. One of my favorite things about dating and hooking up is getting to know new people. Even though I’m a huge introvert and can only handle it in small doses, I find it delightful and eye-opening to chat with people from different walks of life about their experiences, opinions, hopes, and fears. Getting to learn more about humanity and get laid in the same evening? What’s not to like?!

 

Lastly, I feel it’s important to add that you can always say no to sex, for any reason you want. You can say no to the idea of casual sex altogether, and just stay home reading a book. You can say no to the random person who asks you out via Tinder, if their vibe rubs you the wrong way or you just don’t feel like going out. You can say no to staying for another drink, if by the end of the first one you’re bored to tears or just wishing you were home watching Netflix instead. You can say no when your date asks you back to their place, whether it’s a “no, but maybe next time” or a permanent kind of no. You can say no when you’re back at their place (or yours), after a nightcap or after some kisses or after some touching or whenever the hell you want. You can say no to seeing them again. You can say no at any time, for any reason or for no reason at all, and anyone who makes you feel like you can’t is someone you should get away from as soon as you possibly can. (Block their number, too. You deserve better.)

As a demisexual, I’ve found that the most likely juncture of a date when I might need to say no is when we’re paying for our drinks/dinner/whatever and have to decide whether to move to a second location. If I don’t want to have sex with them, right then or perhaps ever, but they’ve made an invitation for me to do so, I can say:

  • “Thank you, but no.”
  • “I’m not really feelin’ it.”
  • “It was nice meeting you, but I need to get some rest.”
  • “I don’t think we’re a great fit, but thanks for your time.”
  • “I’ve had a lovely time, but I think I’m just gonna head home.”
  • “I’m not really feeling sexual chemistry here, but I hope you have a good rest of your night.”

I used to feel guilty about doing this, as if I had “wasted their time” by declining sex when there was an unspoken agreement that sex would (or could) happen. But frankly, anyone who believes sex is an obligation, in any context and for any reason, is not a safe person to have sex with. This is also why I prefer to pay for my own drinks/food/transport on all first dates; I need all the help I can get convincing myself that I never owe anyone anything and am free to say no at any time. There is always a chance that someone will get angry and/or aggressive when rebuffed in this way, however gently; this is one of the many reasons it’s best to have all first dates in public, well-lit places where there are plenty of other people around.

 

Are you a demisexual person who enjoys casual sex? What are your tips and tricks for having demi-friendly hookups?

 

This post was sponsored. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.