Sexting, Spanking, Stroking: What “Counts” As Sex?

Kate Sloan

In the 12th grade I took a psychology/sociology/anthropology class, the first day of which was spent debating what constituted “sex.”

Our teacher said it was a useful exercise to get us thinking about the nuances of the class’s subject matter – and he was right. The ensuing discussion was psychosocial and sociocultural, surprisingly thoughtful for a roomful of horny teenagers.

One person suggested sex could be defined as a physical act meant to invoke sensual pleasure in oneself and one’s partner, but someone else pointed out that under this definition, holding hands could be considered sex. Another person thought orgasm should be part of the definition, but of course that leaves out all the perfectly valid sex that doesn’t involve orgasms, whether by choice or not. We debated whether sex had to involve romantic feelings (no), penetration (no), mutual pleasure (no), genital touching (mayyybe?). Despite feeling fairly certain we knew what sex was, we couldn’t agree on a definition that we felt included all the things it ought to and excluded all the things it ought to.

This was years before the “galaxy brain” meme became popular, but damn if that wasn’t a galaxy-brain moment for me. If I didn’t know what sex was or wasn’t, then could sex be… almost anything? Could I experience sexual pleasure from… almost anything?

I’ve been writing about sex online for the better part of a decade now, and my understanding of what “sex” is has only become broader and murkier as time has progressed (not to mention, as acts like sexting and phone sex have become a bigger and bigger part of my life). I’m not sure I know what sex is. I’m not sure I ever knew.

I’m playing Scrabble and drinking wine with a cute, toppy enby at their house. It’s our second date. They’re really, really good at Scrabble; they beat me spectacularly. And then I ask if they want to beat me in another way.

They are amenable, and I sprawl over their lap, face down and ass up, like a good girl. They warm up my ass with light swats and then transition into more substantial smacks. The impacts get louder and the pain gets worse and I almost want to cry and it’s so so good.

When we mutually decide we’re done with impact, I sit in their lap and kiss them, our hands roaming lazily along each other’s skin. I feel like a sweet, petite princess under their gaze. The kisses fade out like the end of a pop song, and they gesture at the Scrabble board. “Wanna play again?”

Does this count as sex?

Kink, as you may well know, makes everything more complicated.

Where previously I might have said that a sexual activity had to involve genital touching for me to consider it “sex,” the deeper I’ve waded into my kinky identity, the less certain I am that that’s true. When you’re a spanking fetishist, for example, your butt basically is a genital region, or at least, your brain and body respond as if it were (and isn’t that the whole point?). Does that make the feet a sexual organ for foot fetishists? Is the brain a sexual organ for hypnokinksters?

I keep a sex spreadsheet, and currently my threshold for including an encounter there is:

  1. At least one person’s genitals must be touched by at least one other person
  2. The purpose of the interaction must be for sexual pleasure
  3. It must “feel like sex” to me

Of course, that last point is the most nebulous, and probably the most important. Some spankings leave me panting and dishevelled, satisfied and wrecked, like good sex; others just feel like a few fun swats from a pal. Some sexting sessions feel obscene and all-encompassing; others just feel like typing words into a phone. Maybe it’s okay for your definition of sex to be subjective. But then, what happens if someone thinks they’re fucking you, deeply and fully, and to you it just feels like a bit of rollin’ around?

My fuckbuddy is looking particularly cute tonight – but I swear I think that every time I see him. He’s naked in the pool at the sex club, sipping a cider, not a trace of self-consciousness in his body. We’ve been chatting for a good few minutes, but suddenly the cadence of our conversation shifts. I set my drink down by the side of the pool and he starts kissing me and it is the most natural thing, the most familiar treat.

His hand is in my hair and his other hand is on my back and his legs are pulling me closer and I’m tugging on his chest hair and his beard is scraping my cheeks. There are so many sensory details I associate with him and basically no one else: a splash of chlorine, the squeak of wet skin on skin. He is also a certified master of dry-humping: his hard cock finds my clit underwater with perpetually startling precision. Our most sensitive spots slide against each other as our kisses get deeper and more frenetic.

After languorous minutes of this, I am turned on – but tired. It’s been a long day. Normally at this point we would progress to sex, but I want to stop here; this was enough. I explain, and he understands, and we kiss goodnight. I get out of the pool and towel off, feeling glowy and gorgeous.

Does this count as sex?

I hate the narrative that sex without penetration isn’t sex at all. This myth is rampant, misogynist, homophobic, transphobic, and so many other things that make me shudder. In Laurie Mintz’s book Becoming Cliterate, she reports – based on a survey she did – that while two-thirds of women consider it “sex” when someone goes down on them, only one-third of men consider it “sex” when they go down on someone. The clitoris is the anatomical equivalent of the penis; it’s absurd that when the latter is stimulated, it’s widely considered sex, while the same isn’t true for the former.

And yet… when my clit is merely grazed, or lightly rubbed, and there’s nothing inside me, often it doesn’t feel to me like sex. It feels like something that could’ve happened accidentally, if I was squeezing past strangers on a train or enjoying a particularly deep kiss.

Have I internalized the concept that “foreplay” alone isn’t real sex? Or do I simply know what I like? Is it okay to build one’s own definition of sex based on what one finds subjectively sexual, or does that inherently exclude people who experience sex differently? Maybe it’s inevitable that humanity can never agree on a universal definition of sex. Maybe that’s okay.

My boyfriend calls me up, as he does almost every night. After a few minutes of catch-up conversation and goofy giggles, some particular piece of flirty repartée makes his voice drop an octave into a distinctly dommy register. We’ve been sexting on-and-off all day; we want each other, and on the phone, we can almost have each other. The game is on.

Dictating my every move, he guides me through gentle touches, a satisfying spanking, and a deep hard fuck with a dildo and vibrator. My body provides motion while his voice provides direction, excitement, encouragement. My eventual orgasm feels collaborative, like a canvas we both slung paint at until it was beautiful.

Does this count as sex?

I thought I was at peace with my (lack of a) definition of sex, and then I got into a long-distance relationship.

Sexting and phone sex are hugely popular endeavors, as the plethora of free sexting sites and phone sex operators on the internet will attest. But are they sex?

For a long time, I didn’t think so. I didn’t record these encounters on my spreadsheet; I didn’t say “We fucked,” but rather, “We had phone sex.” Meanwhile, my partner was viewing those late-night phone calls as sex with me, which was a bit of a weird disconnect. It was like that scene in Down With Love when a smitten Ewan McGregor tries to get Renée Zellweger’s blasé, love-wary character to sleep with him: “So I can make love to you – heartfelt, passionate, worshipping, adoring love – and you can still have meaningless sex with me, right?” It’s strange to have a vastly different conception of sex from the person you’re having it with.

So I stayed open to the idea that sexting and phone sex could feel like sex, could be sex. And after a year of getting lascivious on the phone almost every night (why are we like this??), I can now report that it indeed feels like a sexual act to me. I look forward to it like sex; I get fully engrossed in it like sex; it satisfies me like sex; it brings me and my partner closer like sex. And it’s upwards of 70% of our sex life together, so it would feel odd to write it off as “illegitimate” in some way. I still don’t record it in my spreadsheet alongside IRL encounters, only because it doesn’t pose a risk as far as STIs and pregnancy, so I have less of a need to track it. But maybe someday I’ll start doing it anyway.

As our culture goes deeper down the rabbit hole of stuff like sex robots and teledildonics, we’re going to have to broaden our definition of sex. And that, I think, is a very good thing.

 

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

Date Diaries: Towers, Oysters, & Amorous Nights

Kate Sloan

Hi! Welcome to something new I’m trying, Date Diaries, a feature where I’ll write about dates I go on. I’m revisiting a week I spent with my partner in Toronto back in December, for our first anniversary…

On Matt’s first night back in town, I went to meet him at the airport, which has become a tradition for us. We have a protocol whereby I have to ask him, prior to his takeoff, what he’d like me to bring him at the airport – food, gum, coffee, whatever – and then meet him in the arrivals area. It’s exciting, getting to see him at the earliest possible moment, rather than waiting for him to Uber to my apartment like I used to.

On this day – December 12th – I subwayed across town to Pearson Airport in the west end from a psychiatrist appointment in the east end, trying to read my Kindle on the train but failing because I was too excited to concentrate. Once we found each other in arrivals, we took a car back to my place, ~reconnected~ with some sex-‘n’-kink, and then were faced with the question of where to go for dinner.

This always happens. Usually he gets in late, because air travel is a chaotic nightmare, and by the time we’re settled and ready to eat, many restaurants have closed their kitchens. So it’s become a tradition of sorts for us to go to Bar Isabel on those first Toronto nights, because their kitchen is open until at least midnight (bless them, bless them all). It’s one of the best-reviewed restaurants in the city, and for good reason: the ambiance is chill and romantic, the tapas-style menu is impeccable, the cocktails are swell, and the servers are top-notch.

As the clock ticked over to 12:00AM of the next day – December 13th, our anniversary – I tweeted about how happy I was to have spent a year with such a wonderful person, and we toasted to our relationship, our love, and our future. Aww.

What I wore: I was feeling romantic so I put on the dress I was wearing the day that we met, one year previous. It’s a black and red floral-print fit-and-flare dress I got at H&M god knows how many years ago. I also wore my collar, of course.

What we ordered: We usually get the punch when we go to Bar Isabel; I think this time we got the “fancy punch,” which contains liquors, citruses, teas, herbs, and bubbly wine (they change up the specific ingredients on a night-to-night basis), because we were celebrating! We ate oysters, bread, manchego cheese, shishito peppers, and grilled octopus. Divine.

My boyf is an over-the-top romantic, making him a good match for someone like me who is sentimental as fuck and also likes to write about dates she goes on (hiii). For our anniversary, he surprised me by taking me to one of the fanciest and most tourist-y places you can go for dinner in Toronto: the 360 Restaurant at the top of the CN Tower. As we were walking to the elevator that would take us up to the restaurant, we were bustled into a photography area where they snapped some cheesy pictures of us in front of a green screen – hence the adorable watermarked monstrosity you see above.

The whole conceit of the 360 Restaurant is that you get the best possible view of Toronto, and the entire restaurant rotates slowly, so you get to see all the way around over the course of your meal. I hadn’t been up there since my mom took me to an opening-night party for The Lion King back when she was working as an entertainment reporter more than a decade ago, so it was cool to go back, especially with someone I love so much.

After dinner, we checked out the famous glass floor and then cabbed to Civil Liberties for a nightcap before heading home. Ideal date night!

What I wore: Sir told me weeks beforehand that if I planned on buying a new dress for our anniversary, he wanted it to be blue and shiny/sparkly in some way – which, honestly, knowing me, it would’ve been anyway. I trawled the local mall all day, trying on several unsatisfactory contenders, before finally landing on this $17 pale blue velvet spaghetti-strap dress from Forever 21. I wore it with black tights, my collar, a black cashmere cardigan, and the gorgeous blue Coach bag Matt had just given me as an anniversary gift. The suit he’s wearing, by the way, is the same one he wore on our second date; aww.

What we ordered: We split a dozen oysters and I thiiink I had roasted salmon with risotto on the side. And, as per usual, we drank excellent cocktails, though I can’t remember what they were. I was pretty focused on the cute boy across the table from me!

Sir introduced me to La Banane and it’s become one of our favorite Toronto dinner spots. The food and service are both absolutely incredible. I feel like a queen every time we go here.

After dinner, we rounded out our evening by going to see Hook-Up at the Bad Dog Theatre (their hilarious and often quite romantic runaway hit) and stopping by Civil Liberties again for more cocktails. Three of our very favorite things in one night – amazing!

What I wore: This dress is one of Sir’s faves in my wardrobe so he chose it for our fancy night out; it’s a form-fitting, low-cut, navy velvet dress with an asymmetric hem. I bought it at Forever 21 when I briefly had a sugar daddy, envisioning wearing it on elegant dates with him, though that plan never came to pass! This time I paired it with black tights, a black cashmere cardigan, my collar, and my new Coach bag again.

What we ordered: Our appetizers were oysters again (we’re so predictable) and seared foie gras with hazelnuts and a little cup of wine on the side. I had their duck breast entrée (soooo tender and good) and Sir had the Eurobass. My fave cocktail here is the Penicillin; I don’t normally like smoky Scotch but this drink blends it with lemon, ginger, and honey, making it much more palatable. Toward the end of the meal, the restaurant staff had to re-seat us to make room for a big group that was coming in, and they sent over two glasses of amaro on the house for our trouble (my first time ever trying amaro!). Sooo fuckin’ classy.

Been on any date you’ve especially loved lately?

Hearts, Flowers, & Bruises: Valentine’s Day Ideas For Kinksters

Kate Sloan

Look, I get it. Valentine’s Day is kinda bullshit. BUT. It is also an opportunity to celebrate love. We could always use more of that. Whether you’re dating one person or a bunch of people or none at all, whether you’re vanilla or kinky or somewhere in between, you deserve to feel lifted up by love.

But frankly, a lot of Valentine’s Day activities guides are vanilla as fuck! So I’ve put together this list of suggestions for how you and your dom or sub can celebrate this weird fake holiday together. Hope this sparks your pervy imagination!

Mark the submissive with a heart. There a bunch of ways to do this. You could give them a thorough spanking with a heart-shaped or heart-emblazoned impact toy. You could use a stencil and a hairbrush to spank a heart onto their skin. You could brand them with ice. Or you could keep it simple and just draw a heart on their skin with a red pen, perhaps somewhere secret where prying eyes can’t see. This is a cute way to literally mark your sub with love.

Get a collar (or put more stuff on the one you have). Some consider a collar a pretty big sign of commitment, so maybe this is a bit cheesy, like getting engaged on Valentine’s Day. But it’s also very sweet. You could pick one out together online or at a sex shop, or go get one custom-made, or make one yourselves. If the sub already has a collar, maybe you could add something new to it, like a collar tag or a charm.

Read each other kinky love stories, to remind you of just how romantic D/s can be. I like Mollena and Georg’s story, sappy stuff from Sinclair, and you can also read, um, anything in the “Super Sleepy” tag on my site. Slash fanfiction also works a treat for this purpose!

Do an elaborate roleplay. I’ve found few things more romantic than doing what was essentially a low-key public improv game with my partner, as part of a kink scene. Complex roleplays like this can be hard to plan and to make time for, which is why Valentine’s might be the ideal day to do one – it’s already a day dedicated to your love, so you might as well go whole-hog.

Define “romantic sex” together, and then have some. Bullshit concepts of “romantic sex” in the media – think rose petals, scented baths, and Barry White – often position themselves as one-size-fits-all when they totally aren’t. Kinksters’ idea of romance can be quite different! Have a chat about which elements of sex and kink feel truly romantic to you both, and then combine all those elements into a scene. (I think mine would involve wax play, a thuddy over-the-knee spanking, face-slapping until I cry, and a lot of cuddly aftercare.)

Write each other kinky love letters. Of course, you could write traditional love letters, too. But I’ve enjoyed kink-infused writing assignments in the past, and you might too! The dom can tell the sub to write them a note about their favorite past scenes, their fantasies, or what they appreciate about their partner’s dominance. The dom can write a “progress report” or “report card” for the sub, or a loquacious list of all the ways their sub makes their life easier and better. Beautiful stationery and good pens are strongly encouraged!

Go on a D/s-tinged dinner date. I’ve written before about how to do this. All the fancy, romantic restaurants will be packed on V-Day, so it’s an especially perfect opportunity to play with power exchange on your date. Outfit selection, table manners, mid-date tasks to complete in the bathroom… There’s so much fun to be had here!

Incorporate a stuffed animal into an ageplay scene. Cute little stuffed bunnies and teddy bears holding hearts are everywhere around this time. If you are a perv of the ageplay persuasion like me, you could get one and incorporate it into a scene – maybe the little has to get themselves off by grinding against the toy, or they hold onto it for comfort while enduring a difficult spanking.

Visit (or rent) a dungeon. The Ritual Chamber in Toronto, for example, can be rented by the hour, and it contains enough implements and themed rooms to keep you busy, whatever your fantasy may be.

Watch a kinky movie. If a snuggly Netflix-and-chill date is more your speed than a night out, there’s still lots of ways to make it kinky. Of course, you’ve got classics like 50 Shades (ugh) and Secretary (…okay), but I would also recommend Red Eye (psychological manipulation galore!) and Shortbus (the orgy and threesome scenes are divine). My mom the cinemaphile would be mad if I didn’t mention her fave sexxxy movie here, Blue Velvet, which supposedly contains a fisting scene!

Ruin some red lingerie. You can usually get good deals on novelty lingerie around this time, so it might be fun to buy some cheap lacy stuff, wear it under your clothes for an outing, and then have your dom bite/cut/rip it off you once they get you alone. Lots of people have this fantasy but rarely get to actually experience it; now’s as good a time as any!

Try a new kink together. I’ve found few things more exhilarating and romantic than barrelling head-on into a new kink activity with someone I adore. Much like riding a roller coaster or seeing a scary movie with your beloved, there’s an element of fear tempered with the comfort of being with someone you trust. Watersports, wax play, and feminization are some recent somewhat-scary faves I tried for the first time with my partner, for example.

Make dinner into a service task. If the sub is culinarily inclined, perhaps they would like to throw together a home-cooked meal, complete with intricate table-setting and elegant candles. It can be very satisfying, as a submissive person, to make something (food-wise or otherwise) that perfectly suits your dominant’s specific tastes.

Play with “love addiction.” This kink is particularly a trope within the hypno community; you can use hypnosis to make someone feel like they’re falling deeper in love with you and can’t get enough of you. (Proceed with caution and with lots of negotiation beforehand, obviously!) A skilful hypnotist could even set it up so the sub feels a little hit of love every time they take a sip of their drink at dinner, for example, or every time they overhear the phrase “Valentine’s Day.”

Get (and/or give) a massage. Maybe the dom’s a little achy from all that paddling and flogging, and could use some firm hands to work out those kinks, so to speak. Maybe the sub is sore from last week’s predicament bondage scene and needs to be kneaded into putty. A professional couple’s massage would be a super romantic gift from one of you to the other – and, as a bonus, you’ll both be extra limber and relaxed afterward, ready to return to the high-intensity pervy activities you love so much.

Chocolates… with a twist. Whatever Valentine-y treats you pick up at the store can be used as rewards in a kink scene, you devious genius. Maybe the sub gets a chocolate for each shoe they shine; maybe they get one when they complete a series of math problems while their dom goes down on them; maybe they just get a bunch as aftercare treats once they’ve taken a thorough beating. Aww.

Use roses as a spanking implement. This is a much kinkier way of sprinkling rose petals all over your bed! Just be careful of the thorns, okay? Unless you’re into that…

 

What are your favorite romantic kink activities?

 

This post contains a sponsored link. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.

What’s Your Dream Dildo?

Kate Sloan

A question I’m often asked, when people find out I’m a sex toy reviewer, is: “If you could design your dream sex toy, what would it be like?”

I understand the thinking behind the question, but – as my foodie boyfriend pointed out to me when we discussed this – it’s a bit like asking a food critic to write up a Michelin-starred menu. People who create a particular thing have a different skillset from people who critique that thing, in most cases. I know what qualities I appreciate in toys, but if I tried to actually design a toy based on that knowledge, it would probably lack cohesion and ergonomics, and it might not even be physically possible to make. Because I’m not a toymaker. I’m the Rob Gordon of sex toys: a bitter-yet-avid connoisseur of the field, who can say “good!” or “bad!” but who can’t actually make the things I write so much about.

Except… maybe modern technologies can start to solve this problem. This online “dildo sculptor” lets you design your dream dildo shape, which you can then have 3D-printed, make into a mold, and make silicone dildos from. While I can’t guarantee I’d ever make a masturbatory masterpiece the likes of which Vixen Creations and Uberrime are cranking out, it’s nice to at least have the option.

These “what’s your ideal sex toy?” conversations start getting a little more charged when you realize the question comes from a place of insecurity. This isn’t always the case, but occasionally it’s seemed that way. Answering this question in a relationship with a dick-wielding person might seem innocuous, but sometimes it plants seeds of self-doubt in the asker’s mind, vis-à-vis their wang. I’ve had cis male partners get visibly uncomfortable when I expressed a preference for bigger dildos, assuming that meant their own cock wasn’t up to snuff. But that’s not what it means, because dildos and people are totally different things!

I don’t subscribe to the “sex toys are a consolation prize for human partners” school of thought (although I have used them as such, sometimes, when my craving for dick was outpaced only by my social anxiety about seeking out a hookup to satisfy that craving). I actually think some of the best dildos (or “dildoes,” as some people insist on spelling it) are ones that do something a flesh-and-blood dick simply cannot. No penis, no matter how great, can attack my G-spot with the cool fury of the Njoy Pure Wand, or stretch me woefully wide like the Vixen Randy. And here’s the kicker: THAT’S FINE. Penises don’t need to be like toys. My mouth certainly doesn’t feel like a Fleshlight. It’s not supposed to!

I’m encouraged by these print-your-own-sex-toy technologies, because they put more power into the hands of consumers (however inept at design those hands might be). Maybe this will eventually result in more people owning sex toys, normalizing them, and recognizing that they don’t threaten sexual connections with other people. In many cases, they can even strengthen those connections: it can be deliciously vulnerable, for example, to let someone plough you with a big piece of silicone!

To answer the question I posed myself in the title of this piece: my dream dildo would be long, girthy, firm, vaguely S-shaped, easy to hold and thrust with, and visually beautiful to boot. But that doesn’t say a damn thing about my cock preferences. Hell, I’ve never fucked anyone whose dick was S-shaped, and I’ve still gotten off with partners many a time!

I think we need to stop extrapolating about folks’ sexual preferences just from what’s in their nightstand, because – much like sexual behavior and sexual orientation are two separate-but-probably-overlapping dimensions – the objects someone likes to use in/on/around their genitals are not necessarily reflective of what they want your genitals to look/feel like. And trust me, you offer more than your genitals. No dildo has ever muttered dirty phrases in its user’s ear, spanked or bitten its user with roguish ferocity, or held its user in the post-orgasm glow. No dildo makes jokes as funny as yours, writes sexts as salacious as yours, or makes as warm and comforting a cuddle buddy as you do. You’ve got nothing to worry about, pal.

Dildos are friends, not foes!

 

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

In Praise of the Humble Wand Vibe (+ Win a Lelo Smart Wand!)

Kate Sloan

Wand vibrators, though iconic, are not exactly glamorous. They’re more utilitarian than sensual; more like an open fire hydrant than a bucolic meadow mist. As queen of the sex toy reviewers Epiphora put it, “I don’t feel very sexy using a wand… I’m getting the job done. I have the ideal tool for the job, and orgasm is GOING TO HAPPEN. I see it more as an instigator of orgasm than a sensual sort of experience.”

This is partly because the best-known wand vibes are made for muscle massage, or at least purport to be. I’m sure that this sterile, clinical aesthetic is important to lots of these wands’ users, rather than a detraction: I know I love wands when I’m depressed, for example, when the thought of touching my genitals or actually being “sexy” in any way can feel gross, overly intimate. I’m also drawn to them for medical-play scenes; a doctor wielding a vibrating purple dong just doesn’t stoke the imagination like that same doctor calmly pressing a smooth blue-and-white wand against my bits.

Then there’s the contingent of people who find wands too distractingly huge – or, worse, too intimidatingly pleasurable – to incorporate into sex. While no one is obliged to participate in any sex act they’re not into, denying your partner their truest pleasure because it mildly inconveniences you is kind of a dick move.

All of these problems, however, are alleviated when you choose a wand vibe that’s sleeker, more ergonomic, and more compact than the best-known contenders. That’s the niche Lelo was trying to fill when they created the Smart Wand Large. (There’s also a medium-sized version, but it’s not as powerful/rumbly, and, well, you know me: if it’s not a jackhammer then what’s the point?) With its smooth silicone, curved handle, and elegant aesthetic, this wand is a worthy option for people who kinda turn up their nose at the sight of a clunky Hitachi, but still want their vibrations deep and powerful.

Now that your interest is piqued, I’ll fire up your imagination even more: here are some of my all-time favorite things to do with wand vibes…

  • Vibrations with a side of fingerbanging. Being fingerfucked is one of my favorite things in the world, but I only get off from it if I’m getting adequate clit stimulation at the same time. Usually I provide this myself, with fingers or a toy, but lately my partner and I have developed enough trust that I let him hold a vibe against me with one hand while the fingers of his other hand are stroking my insides. We find that wands are the best tool for this job, because – unlike something smaller and more finicky – they can be held pretty much anywhere on my vulva and feel pretty damn good.
  • Forced orgasm. Take the previous point to the next level by adding a dash of bondage, a spoonful of D/s, and perhaps a sprinkle of sensory deprivation. Some wands are so powerful, they can make you feel like you’re hurtling uncontrolled toward orgasm, making them perfect for this type of kink scene.
  • Casual vibin’. I love letting a wand vibe meander aimlessly all over my vulva while I watch porn, read erotica, fantasize, or just listen to my partner spin sexy stories for me over the phone. I can keep my wand on a low setting for a while, revving me up physically while some other stimulus revs me up mentally. As someone who takes a while to get turned on and get off, I appreciate the broad, diffused feeling a wand can provide, for its usefulness in the early stages of arousal.

And now, an exciting treat: Lelo is offering a Smart Wand Large (perhaps the prettiest wand vibe I’ve ever seen?) to one lucky reader. This giveaway is only open to entrants in the United States. It will run for 2 weeks.

Even if you don’t win, you can use the code GIRLY15 to get 15% off your order at Lelo.com until February 10th. Yay!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Heads up: this post was sponsored. As always, all writing and opinions are my own. In light of Lelo’s history, I’ve donated 40% of the fee I received for this post to the Interval House, a Toronto-based shelter for survivors of domestic violence.