communication

4 Ways to Tell Your Partner About Your Kink

Kate Sloan

I’ve answered hundreds, if not thousands, of questions about kink in my career as a sex writer and educator – and one of the most common ones, without a doubt, is: “How do I tell my partner about my kinks?”

It’s an understandable thing to wonder. The seemingly obvious answer is “Just tell them,” but if it were that easy, people wouldn’t be asking the question in the first place. What they really mean when they ask this is: How do I conjure the courage to tell my partner about my kinks, given that I know they might react badly?

My best friend, sex educator Bex Caputo, would say: Don’t make it a big deal. If you tell them about your fetish with the same foreboding tone you’d use to tell them you got cancer, you’re setting yourself up for failure. Humans take a lot of cues from each other socially and psychologically, on both conscious and unconscious levels, and so if you disclose your kink in a way that’s fun and flirty instead of scary or self-flagellating, you’re much likelier to get a good response.

But there are a lot of different ways to do that. Let’s talk about some of them. (And please keep in mind that all of these suggestions are just ways to ease a disclosure and start a conversation – not finish it. You should always do some sort of negotiation before trying a kink that’s new to either of you, to make sure you’re on the same page about basic stuff like what’s going to happen, who’s going to do what, what your safeword[s] or safe-signal[s] will be, and what kind of aftercare you’ll each need.)

 

Fill out a Yes/No/Maybe list. This is a classic kink negotiation tool that’s especially useful at the beginnings of relationships when you don’t know each other’s tastes yet, or in established relationships when you’re in search of a sexual shake-up. Basically it’s a list where you both categorize a bunch of different kinks into 4 categories:

  1. Yes, Into = Yes, I enthusiastically want to try this thing
  2. Yes, Willing = Yes, I would be happy to try this thing if you wanted to try it, though I’m not 100% enthusiastic about it myself
  3. Maybe = I might be willing to try this thing under some circumstances; let’s discuss further
  4. No = I absolutely do not want to try this thing

Once you each complete your list, you can compare notes and see where there’s overlap and where there decidedly isn’t, and then go from there.

There are digital tools that make this process easy, like Old.MojoUpgrade.com, or you could pick up a copy of my book and go through it together, adding each kink to your list as you go.

 

“So I had this dream…” If you’re prepared to tell a little white lie to kick off a kink chat with your partner, you could always just say you had a sexy dream about [insert kink here] and then ask a question like:

  • Doesn’t that sound hot?
  • Have you ever tried that?
  • What do you think about that?
  • Would you ever want to try that?
  • Ever wondered what that would be like?
  • Does that seem like something we’d do?

This gives you a bit of plausible deniability, so that if (god forbid) they get judgey or freak out, you can say, “Well, it was just a dream.” (And then maybe decide whether you want to end the relationship and move on, ’cause… yikes.)

 

Porn, erotica, or live cam shows. If you have the type of relationship where the two of you consume sexual media together – whether as a prelude to sex or just for entertainment purposes – then this can be a good way to guide a conversation toward your particular interests.

You could, for example, suggest that the two of you each curate a playlist of 2-3 porn clips that you’ll watch together, or 1-2 erotica stories you’ll read together, alternating back and forth between theirs and yours. Maybe you set a theme, like “things we want to try,” or maybe you both just pick things you like to jerk off to when you’re alone. This is especially great because, when both partners are committed to the exercise, each of you ends up being bravely vulnerable in a way that makes it easier for the other person to do the same.

Sites featuring live webcam models, like FetishCamSites.com, can also provide a media-based jumping-off point for kink discussions. Maybe seeing a cute camgirl spank herself on-screen with a paddle could get your partner curious about paddles, for instance…

 

Sex shop visit. Now, don’t get me wrong: I would not recommend buying a flogger/enema/Neon Wand/whatever for a partner who has never expressed any interest in owning or using one. It’s presumptuous, financially risky (depending on how pricey the item is and whether its retailer has a good returns policy), and can make your sweetie feel pressured to say yes even if they don’t want to.

But, visiting a sex shop together can prompt some productive conversations about sex and kink. It’s easy to make up an excuse to do this, like needing to pick up some condoms or lube, or just walking past a sex shop and saying, “Hey, wanna check this place out?”

If your fetish is equipment-based – e.g. chastity, whipping, pegging – then you can locate that equipment in the store (you may need to check their stock ahead of time if it’s a specialty piece) and then ask your partner one of the questions I recommended in the “So I had this dream…” suggestion above. If your fetish isn’t related to any particular paraphernalia, you could instead pick up a kink book that you know mentions it (perhaps mine!), flip to that page, and ask the same sorts of questions.

 

Of course, there are more ways to communicate a fetish to a partner than just the ones listed here. What methods have worked best for you? How would you want a partner to tell you about their fetish?

 

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

Sexual Technique vs. Sexual Attitude: What Matters More?

Kate Sloan
Truly did not know what photo to pair with this piece so here is an old one of me doing a cunnilingus face.

I spend a lot of time on the Sex forum on Reddit, so I read a lot of posts from frustrated virgins who are afraid that they’ll never get laid. One of their more pervasive fears is that it will be immediately obvious to their first partner that they are a virgin, because of their unpolished technique. They live in terror of being humiliated by a partner who judges them for their abilities or lack thereof.

I have been there myself. While struggling with a prohibitive fear of giving blowjobs at the age of 18, I sincerely worried I would never get into a healthy, happy relationship, because I was mostly attracted to cis men romantically but had no idea what to do with their junk, which I assumed would be a dealbreaker for almost all of them. I imagine this fear is even more pronounced for men with little experience, since our culture too often paints heterosexual sex as men’s responsibility to manage from start to finish, whereas it’s considered more acceptable for women to lie back and have things done to them. (I’m not saying that’s how it should be, but for many people, it’s how it is.) It’s no wonder that these men are so terrified of having poor sexual technique; they’ve been told that their skill level will be the main deciding factor for whether the sex they have is good or not, both for themselves and for their partner(s).

The advice I always give these guys is some version of the following: your attitude matters way more than your technique, and your attitude is what will actually allow you to develop good technique. What should your attitude be, going into a first-time sexual encounter (or, frankly, any sexual encounter)? I think it should be centered around the desire to listen to your partner, pay attention to their reactions, communicate, explore, experiment, and have fun. And you do not have to be some kind of sex god to do any of that. You just have to be attentive and enthusiastic, and you have to care. I already know that these guys are all of those things, because they care enough about sex and have enough enthusiasm about it to wonder how to get good at it, and they’re (usually) attentive to the answers they receive on their posts. The part that they’re missing is the “relax and have fun” part, but that gets easier with time.

Technique-wise, there is definitely a lot you can learn before you ever have sex with another person. You can read articles online about the clitoris, the G-spot, or whatever other parts you’re interested in pleasing. You can study anatomical diagrams like you’re memorizing a map before a road trip. You can read books on sexual technique, like She Comes First and Becoming Cliterate. You can check out instructional websites that focus on sexual technique, like OMGYes or https://www.thepleasurekeys.com. You can practice on your own body, because even if you have different anatomy from the people you’re predominantly attracted to, genitals are all analogous to one another and share plenty of commonalities.

It’s crucial to remember, though, that all the technique-based knowledge in the world is no substitute for asking your partner what they like. Few things frustrate me more than men who keep doing a thing I’ve repeatedly told them doesn’t feel good for me, because their ex-girlfriend liked it, or they read about it in a magazine or something. While it’s always possible that you could introduce someone to sensations they never knew their body could feel, generally your partner will be the world’s leading authority on what feels good for them and what gets them off. To ignore their feedback is to ignore the most useful sexual advice you’ll ever receive.

Given the choice between a partner with well-practiced sexual technique but a shitty attitude, or a partner with an excellently open-minded attitude but no technique to speak of, I would choose the partner with the good attitude almost every time. (I say “almost” because hey, we all make choices that aren’t in our best interest sometimes!) If someone is communicative, kind, generous, attentive, and enthusiastic, you can pretty much teach them whatever sexual skills you want them to learn. It may take practice before they get the hang of it – it usually does – but once they figure it out, they will be leaps and bounds ahead of that douchebag who claims to be a killer cunnilinguist but actually just keeps doing that tongue-flicky thing you told them you hate.

So if you’re reading this and feeling inadequate because you lack sexual experience, just know that your attitude will take you farther than anything else. I’d much rather the face between my legs be looking up at me with cheerful curiosity than with smug certainty. That way, we can discover new pleasures together.

 

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

In Defense of Wearing Socks During Sex

Kate Sloan

Recently, I asked my partner to write mini reviews of some lewd self-portraits I shot in Agent Provocateur lingerie (yep, I’m needy as fuck) and, in one of the shots, it became evident that I had teamed this very expensive, sexy ensemble with a pair of blue calf-high socks. Rather than do what most people would do and either wish they weren’t there or not even notice them, my partner noted that the socks “show me that you want to come, and they’re the only thing that will be left on you once I get my hands on you.” I giggled, blushed, and nodded. Exactly.

If you’d be mystified receiving a sext like that, let me explain. A study done in 2003 in the Netherlands, on the neural processes that contribute to orgasm, found (among numerous other things) that wearing socks increased female participants’ rate of orgasm from 50% to 80%. Innnteresting.

This makes sense to me, given what I’ve learned from sex researcher Emily Nagoski about how women can be more sensitive than men to the presence of “sexual brakes,” i.e. factors that inhibit sexual arousal both physically and psychologically. (For the record, I’m not really sure how this information relates to trans women or nonbinary people, or whether gender-non-conforming people were included in any of the relevant studies, although my past experiences reading sex research lead me to believe they probably weren’t sampled significantly or at all.) Having cold feet in the literal sense could give women cold feet in the metaphorical sense about having sex, because in some cases it’s a distraction significant enough that it prevents or slows down the arousal process – at least, for me, and seemingly for other women as well. This is likely compounded by the fact that women’s extremities, on average, run colder than men’s. (Again, I assume the research here refers only to cis people, but would be pleasantly surprised if that was not the case.)

In the many years since I first read about the socks study, I’ve cited it to multiple sexual partners when asked why I tend to keep my socks on during sex, or (in the cases of a few foot fetishists) when lustily asked to remove my socks. It’s interesting how just explaining “My feet get cold,” like I used to do before I knew about the science, was typically met with more resistance than the more recent and more airtight “Studies show wearing socks during sex helps with having orgasms.” It’s almost as if… people trust male scientists more than they trust women about women’s own bodies?! Gee, who’da thunk.

I should note here that many people have a legitimate aesthetic issue with the whole idea of socks during sex. Either they think it looks silly and weird (which is their prerogative – I know even ultra-busty pouty-lipped sex dolls would look kinda odd wearing woollen hiking socks and nothing else) or they’re turned on by feet and/or full nudity. When I fuck someone who feels this way, my partners’ orgasms may be inhibited almost as much by me wearing socks as mine would be by me not wearing socks – so I’m sometimes willing to bend my policy and work a little harder for my orgasms, knowing I can wriggle back into my nice warm socks when we’re done. I do, after all, want my partners to enjoy having sex with me!

But luckily for me, I’ve had about as many paramours who loved socks as ones who wanted to ban them from our bedroom. This, I think, can be attributed mostly to my interest in DD/lg – there are a lot of visual tropes within that fetish, and knee-high and thigh-high socks are high on the list for many kinksters. I still remember the time I settled into bed for a nice long phone-sex sesh with a daddy dom years ago: he asked me what I was wearing, I told him “a T-shirt, underwear, and some knee-high socks,” and he moaned/growled/grunted with such ferocity that I knew I had made the right choice even though he couldn’t even see my outfit.

Sometimes when I talk to other women about wearing socks during sex – and, yeah, my life is sufficiently weird that this topic does come up in conversation with friends sometimes – they seem slightly mystified by my decision to put my comfort first in a sexual scenario. I think this is sadly emblematic of our sexual culture. Mainstream porn, for example – while I adore much of it and think it is necessary and important – is full of messaging which suggests that hot sex and comfortable sex are basically mutually exclusive, especially for women (can you IMAGINE doing reverse cowgirl, while standing, for 20+ minutes straight?! I simply cannot). And indeed, there are some sex acts I enjoy greatly which could not be considered “comfortable” by any stretch of the imagination (getting paddled and getting throat-fucked come to mind), so it’s not like discomfort is incompatible with arousal for me. But for some reason, socks are one place where I draw a line. I’m rarely up for being uncomfortable in this particular way even though I’ll happily be uncomfortable in various other ways during sex from time to time.

I will say, too, that this has sometimes been a litmus test of sorts for how a new partner reacts to boundary-setting or mid-bang communication. Are they really so committed to their porn-borne sexual scripts that they’re going to insist on full nudity at the expense of my comfort? Are they really going to argue with me about this perfectly reasonable boundary I have set for my own body? Or are they going to say “Huh,” shrug it off, and move on like nothing is wrong (because nothing is)?

Despite being a foot fetishist, my current partner is so devoted to and interested in my pleasure and my orgasm that they’ll often encourage me to keep my socks on during sex. And this makes it all the more delicious for both of us when – after giving me a partly socks-enabled orgasm or two – they crawl down my body, rest their hand gently on my ankle, and ask so so sweetly, “May I take these off and look at your feet?”

Respecting sexual partners’ boundaries is so, so important, even if those boundaries don’t totally make sense to you. Every time a partner respects one of my boundaries without question, it becomes easier and more fun for me later on to bend my more flexible boundaries in the name of pleasure. Heeding my “no” now is likely to get you a “yes” later, for something else. I’m glad science exists to back me up when I set this particular boundary, but the truth is, I shouldn’t need a scientific citation to state what I want and have that be respected.

So when my partner compliments the socks I’m wearing in nudes ‘n’ lewds, I know it’s more than just a compliment. It’s an affirmation that my choices are valid, my boundaries are important, and I am beautiful regardless of which clothes I do, or don’t, remove.

5 Rules For Better Online-Dating Interactions

Kate Sloan

Online dating is a beast. If you’re not careful, it can consume your life, with its alluring promises and gameified interface. This is especially true if, like many of us, you’re just not finding it that useful for its purported purpose: connecting you with people you’ll get along with. Sometimes Tinder, Bumble, and OkCupid can feel like a pit of quicksand that sucks up all your time – and crushes your soul in the process. I often compare it to trying to find a diamond in a garbage heap.

In recent years, I’ve tried to streamline my online-dating habits by imposing a few rules on myself. These make my time on these sites and apps more efficient, by narrowing down my dating pool to only people I might actually enjoy talking to. Here are those rules, incase you want to try some for yourself…

Delete any message which does not specifically reference you/your profile.

I decided to implement this rule upon my most recent OkCupid rejoin, and as much as it is frustrating sometimes (SO MANY people just write “hi” or “hey,” or have clearly copy-and-pasted their message to multiple recipients!), it also simplifies things considerably. I no longer have to pick through every message-sender’s profile trying to decide if they merit a reply; the vast majority of contenders are taken out of the running immediately because they’ve failed to do the absolute bare minimum to even qualify for consideration.

This might seem like a harsh rule, but the more I think about it, the more sense it makes. Whether you’re looking for a one-night stand, a long-term relationship, or anything in between, you want to connect with people who will put effort in. Good sex requires effort; good dates require effort; sustaining any kind of relationship requires effort. If someone puts in almost zero effort from their very first message – when they should theoretically be trying the hardest to impress you – then that attitude will probably extend to other aspects of any potential relationship as well. Hit “delete” and make room for people who are actually trying!

If someone doesn’t ask you any questions or give you anything to ask them about, stop talking to them.

Some people are bad conversationalists. While it’s nice to pick up the slack for them and try to make a convo work in spite of their shortcomings, it’s not necessary. Yet again, this comes down to effort. If they answer your every question like you’re doing an informational interview, and never ask you anything, frankly they don’t deserve the pleasure of talking to you.

There are exceptions, of course. Some people are neurodivergent in ways that affect their conversation style, and some people are just better in person or on the phone than they are via text. If you get the sense from someone’s profile that they might be more interesting than their shitty messages have led you to believe, feel free to give them another chance in a different setting (like a phone call, or an actual date). But you are not at all obligated to. You are an interesting, fun person and there will be other people who are more than happy to have fabulous, engaging conversations with you.

Don’t look at someone’s profile for very long before messaging them.

I would say that on a platform with short profiles, like Tinder, you shouldn’t spend more than a minute looking at anyone’s bio – and on sites where profiles provide more information, like OkCupid, you should give yourself 3-5 minutes, tops. Online dating can be staggeringly time-consuming, especially if you fall into the trap of thinking you have to know you’re into someone before messaging them. Your gut feeling about a person is probably accurate, whether you find them intriguing or boring.

Some people online-date like they’re picky eaters wandering through a grocery store, examining each vegetable for discolorations, carefully reading every ingredient on the back of every cereal box. Others online-date like they’re grocery-shopping while hungry for a particular meal: they speed-walk through the store, mercenarily grabbing each item they need and shoving it immediately into their basket. Research about the paradox of choice shows us that people who spend a long time weighing the pros and cons of each option actually tend to be less happy with their eventual decision. So don’t waste time poring over profiles in an effort to understand the minds of strangers you might not even ever have a conversation with, let alone a relationship. Get in, get out, and then get back to your life.

If someone’s profile makes you laugh or smile, message them to tell them why. (Unless it’s mean.)

Try not to overthink this too much; make like Nike and just do it. Sparks of recognition or excitement while reading someone’s profile are depressingly rare – “Hey, I get that joke!” “I watch that TV show too!” “This picture is so goofy and cute!” – so you might as well chase them when they crop up. These are the types of shallow cues that can lead to a deep connection if pursued, so keep an eye out for anything in a profile that authentically delights you.

Of course, you can just send a quick note saying [x thing] cracked you up or piqued your interest, but you’re likelier to get a good response (or a response, period) if you add at least one question. If they referenced your favorite show, ask them which episode they love the most and why, or which character they most relate to. If they’re posing with a parrot in a funny pic on their profile, ask them about the circumstances that led to them meeting a parrot. You get the idea.

Suggest going on a date as soon as you’re comfortable doing so.

When I first started online-dating, I only wanted to physically meet up with someone after we’d chatted via text for at least a few weeks. I wanted to feel fairly certain that this new crush wasn’t a serial killer (or an awful conversationalist) before agreeing to hang out with them. I also wanted to learn enough about them to determine whether I was attracted to them. But I realized pretty fast that you can actually gauge all of these things better in person than you can via text. Even the most suave texter can be horrible in person, or at least just not what you were expecting. Better to find that out sooner than later, I say!

The easiest transition into a date-ask is to bring up an activity or event that the two of you might be interested in checking out together. If they mention they’re into improv, tell them about a specific show that’s coming up and ask if they’d like to go with you. If they say they like cocktails, ask if they’d like a date to that cool new cocktail bar that just opened in your city. Whatever it is, make sure it’s specific and soon, ideally within the next week – any longer and you could lose interest, or they could, or both. If and when the date actually happens, you’ll be able to learn quickly whether this potential relationship is destined to soar or to fall flat.

 

Do you have any rules for yourself when you look for dates/hookups online? What are they?

How to Make a Long-Distance Goodbye Easier

Kate Sloan

You know how they say “sadness is the price we pay for love”? I’ve never felt that more strongly than in a long-distance relationship.

Saying goodbye to a local partner is NBD; you know you’ll be seeing them next Tuesday anyway, and that if an emotional emergency before then necessitated their presence, you could just swing by their place. But goodbyes with long-distance partners can be heavy: you’ll soon be once again unable to touch and kiss this person you love to touch and kiss, and you may not even know when that gap will be closed again. There’s no way around it: it sucks.

This melancholy interaction may be inevitable, but there are things you can do to avoid falling into a pit of despair every time. I say this as a woman who, nine months ago, broke down in tears on the floor while clutching my partner’s leg because I so desperately didn’t want them to leave: things need not always be this dramatic! Here are some habits I’ve picked up that have made these long-distance farewells easier to handle…

Stay in the moment. It’s very easy, the day that one of you’ll be headed back home, to spend all day long fretting and crying about how sad it is that you have to part ways. But that’s a trap, and it robs you of the thing you’ll miss most once they go: quality time with your beloved. Try to stay focused on your partner right up until you have to start dealing with travel logistics – it’ll be easier to let them go if you know you made every moment count.

Sort out your travel well in advance. Nothing kills the good vibes at the end of a long-distance date faster than freaking out about last-minute travel mishaps. Plan your route to the airport, bus station, etc. during a calm moment so you won’t have to do it during a sad, scary one. Check in for your flight on your phone so you don’t have to rush. Make sure you know where your passport is. The more of this stuff you get out of the way earlier, the longer you can enjoy your sweetheart’s company for.

Reminisce on the highlights of your date. My partner and I do this as part of a ritualized “debrief” at the end of each of our dates. We go back and forth listing our favorite things we did together on that visit, both sexual and non-sexual. It lets us process those experiences together while lifting our moods and getting us excited about things we want to do again sometime. This is one way we try to leave our dates on a happy note.

Plan your next date. This isn’t always possible, because travel is a fickle mistress (not to mention expensive), but if you can figure out when you might next see each other, it helps. Life might well throw a wrench into your plans, but at least it’ll give you something to look forward to in the meantime.

Exchange tokens of affection. Temporarily losing your physical connection with your partner is really hard; exchanging physical gifts of some kind can help mitigate that feeling of lack and loss. You could lend them a T-shirt that smells like you, or leave them a bruise on their ass as a badge of honor; they could give you a stuffed animal to cuddle, or write “Remember I love you” on your arm. There are a lot of ways to leave a little piece of yourself with someone so they feel like you’re still there even when you go.

Say goodbye alone and in a quiet place, if possible. I learned, after one particularly painful goodbye in a New York City subway station, that farewells in loud, public areas make me feel disconnected and unresolved. I need concentrated time with my partner right before our paths diverge. This could be as elaborate as an intimate last-hurrah date in the corner booth of a fancy restaurant, or as simple as sleuthing out a quiet alcove in the train station for one last heart-to-heart before “all aboard.” You’ll feel better if your last few minutes together feel just as connective and intimate as the high points of your date.

Reflect and process. You’ve already discussed your date with your beau; now it’s time to sit with all those feelings on your own. Journaling on my homebound plane ride is always my favorite way to do this – I’ll write about the best parts of the date, any questions or worries it left me with, and how it all felt. This process helps me transition back into my “real life.”

Be gentle with yourself. It is totally okay – normal, even – if you feel sad for a few hours or days after bidding your love adieu. Try not to beat yourself up if it takes you some time to “get back to normal” emotionally. I often find that this type of sadness comes with a bodily sluggishness that makes it harder for me to accomplish anything once it sinks in that we’re apart again, so I try not to schedule anything rigorous or anxiety-provoking within the first 12 hours of my arrival home, if not more. It’s an act of self-love to observe your own patterns in this way and set boundaries or make adjustments accordingly.

Stay in touch. Like a kink scene, a long-distance date shouldn’t end with you just disappearing – there’s gotta be aftercare! Try to be available to your partner for texting, emails, phone calls, or your other conversational medium(s) of choice – maybe even more available than usual. Both of you might still be feeling pretty mushy-hearted, and there might be more to talk about and process. Plus, of course, knowing you can still talk to someone easily can make it a lot easier to stomach their physical absence.

Notice what works and doesn’t work for you, and adjust. If you have some goodbyes that particularly suck, or some that are unusually easy, it’s worth discussing together: what factors contributed to this outcome, and how can we adapt our future approach with this new knowledge in mind? All the above tips are practices my partner and I have come to after many, many months of trying different strategies and talking about our feelings. It’s half-trial and error, half-scientific method. It can’t erase our pain entirely, but it offers us a toolbox for managing that pain.

How have you handled goodbyes in long-distance relationships? Got any tips (or warnings)?