12 Days of Girly Juice 2019: 3 Fave Encounters

I had a lot of good sex this year (quit braggin’!), but these encounters stick out in my mind as some of the best and most memorable. Read on for R-rated descriptions of my various perversions and their manifestations!

Bimbo Hypno (Content note: bimboification, ableist language, forced feminization, hypnosis, age play / daddy / DD/lg)

All these years that I’ve been writing 12 Days of Girly Juice posts, I’ve never highlighted a phone-sex encounter as one of my favorite sexual experiences of the year – but phone sex feels to me more and more like real and legitimate sex, and so it would be strange not to include some, especially since it makes up about 55% of my sex life at this point! (Uhh, more dorky statistics like that to come in my year-end Sextistics post. Just you wait!)

My Sir and I had been thinking a lot about “intelligence play”/bimboification/forced feminization, and the intersections therein, when we decided to do a scene incorporating all of these. After extensive negotiation, here’s what we settled on: I laid out a full face’s worth of makeup on my desk and set up my computer there. Sir called me on the phone, put me into trance, and suggested to me that with every item of makeup I applied, I could let go of a little more of my intelligence. I could sink into the bliss of ignorance, set aside my overanalytical adult tendencies, and just be a pretty, childlike little doll. When they woke me up and called me on FaceTime video, I was already feeling spacey, and that just developed further as I began to put my face on, piece by piece.

By the end of the scene, I was slurring slightly on super simple sentences. I looked very cute but could barely formulate a thought. I was deeper in “little space” than I’d ever been before, feeling genuinely like that little girl I so often roleplay as. My daddy took me to bed (by which I mean, we each separately retired to our beds) and fucked me over the phone the way they do almost every night – but this time felt different, because my brain felt dimmed. As someone who’s too often wracked with anxiety and intrusive thoughts during sex, it was magic to be able to just… turn that off. I was always a very bright little girl when I was a kid, but sometimes being a little less astute for a while can be amazingly relaxing.

Matt says: This was definitely one of the most memorable scenes we did this year, even though we weren’t in the same room. I remember watching you on FaceTime video putting on the makeup and getting dumber, and getting more and more turned on as you got dumber, and I was struggling to figure out when I should fuck you! I wanted to fuck you from the beginning, but also I wanted to make you as dumb as possible and let you finish your makeup, obviously… so it was a struggle against my own arousal! I was also thinking a lot about what questions I could ask you to confirm and convince you of your dumbness. I asked you about process, like about why you were doing certain things with your makeup, and you had kind of a hard time figuring that out. The hypnosis, I remember a lot; the makeup, I remember a lot; the resulting phone sex, I don’t remember as much. It was like, sex with you-but-dumber, which was great, but it didn’t stick with me as much as watching you get dumber. But I do remember I came really hard, so…

Unprecedented PIV in Portland (Content note: alcohol)

I don’t know why, but I never assume roleplay scenes will lead to particularly good sex. I mean, for me, that’s not the point of them: they’re more about playful exploration, closer to an improv show than a porn shoot. But sometimes, the sex therein can be incredible.

When Matt and I spent a week in Portland, it seemed like a good opportunity for a roleplay we’d been wanting to do for a while: we would go to a bar and pretend to be strangers meeting for the first time. We decided on Barlow, a swanky cocktail bar around the corner from our hotel. I went over there, ordered a daiquiri, and sat reading How to Date Men When You Hate Men, the loud title of which further contributed to what we already knew: the beginning of the scene would be tricky for Matt. They would have to woo me – a shy, defensive introvert, perpetually wary of strangers’ approaches – into wanting to talk to them. Wanting to talk to them so much, in fact, that I would put my book down to do so. This is no small feat!

Matt came in a few minutes after me and ordered a daiquiri as well, which ended up being the catalyst for our conversation (they were damn good daiquiris!). We small-talked about drinks, books, and the conference we were both attending, and then, inevitably, discussing my line of work led us to disclose (some of) our kinks and (some of) our attraction to each other. I agreed to let them come up to my hotel room, saying “Maybe we could just make out” (which is indeed what I would say if I actually met a hot stranger at a bar in broad daylight in a city with which I was unfamiliar). We paid our check, made our way to the hotel, and giggled nervously in the elevator.

I honestly don’t remember much about the sex that ensued, mostly because its conclusion was so bafflingly intense that it probably blew all the other memories out of my brain. We were having good old-fashioned dick-in-vag sex, and I had the Eroscillator on my clit, and before I even fully realized what was happening, their dick felt so good that I came – way sooner and more easily than I normally would from this activity – and felt them coming at the exact same time. A simultaneous PIV orgasm is one of those sexual goals that I’ve never really understood or fetishized, but it felt so perfect in that roleplay – I had the sense that even though we were “strangers,” we knew each other’s bodies and minds deeply, and were instantly, fiercely connected to each other. That’s pretty much how it felt when we actually met for the first time, so it was romantic to revisit that sensation – albeit while having an orgasm so hard and fast that it surprised me and left me breathless.

Matt says: What sticks out to me about this scene was how difficult it was for me, because I am not used to “picking up people” in this way. Even though I knew you’re my partner and we were gonna end up at home together, I felt really high-stakes about picking you up. So, from the moment I walked into the bar, I was really nervous about what I would say to you, when I would say it, where I would sit – everything about the whole interaction. I was very calculating about it, even down to our interactions with the bartenders, because they didn’t assume we were together, and then when I tried to pay for us together, that was a whole problem I had to solve… It was this, like, choreographed dance in the bar, and once we were back in “your” hotel room, it was much easier to relax into fucking you. I felt like I had “scored” you, which is a feeling I don’t often get, and I really wanted to impress you with my oral skills and PIV skills and stuff. I felt like the way we came together was beautiful and perfect, and if my character had walked off into the night and gone back to their Airbnb or whatever, it would’ve been this beautiful perfect moment, but then we got to spend the rest of the day together and it was even better.

Cryin’ & Goodbyin’ (Content note: hypnosis, alcohol)

I was only supposed to spend a week in New York in August, but as my flight time neared, Matt wrapped their arms around me tight, silently Feeling Some Feelings, and then observed, “I’m not doin’ too good.” I wasn’t doin’ too good either. We rearranged our plans to give me three extra days in New York, which wasn’t very much but seemed like enough. We just weren’t ready to say goodbye yet.

On the night before our actual goodbye, we attended a workshop on hypnosis and sadomasochism, stopped off for some late-night Mexican food, and then came back home. Matt wanted to do some trance stuff (naturally) and asked me what I wanted to feel; I was so flooded with love already that my answer came easily: “I want to feel romantic.” They put me into a deep, slightly drunken trance (margaritas are delicious!!) and then talked me through amping up my pre-existing romantic feelings. With my hazy eyes fluttering, I clutched at them and began to cry. Big, hot tears soaked my beloved’s pillow as they talked me through it, murmuring in my ear about love and trust and togetherness.

When they woke me up, they went down on me lovingly and fucked me with the Eleven lovingly and made me squirt lovingly. It all looked very rough from the outside but was actually maybe the most romantic sex I had all year. Kinksters are redefining “lovemaking” and I’m very glad.

Matt says: I was so sad that you were leaving, even though we had extended your stay. I was just wrecked. I was so fucked up about it. Watching you spill your tears all over my blue pillowcase in this beautiful, long pattern made me feel better about it, and then I was like, “I want more of that.” So I did this trance scene, and I got more tears out of you, and then I fucked you and got you to squirt all over my sheets, and my sheets were just covered in your wetness and your essence… I felt like I had gotten everything out of you that I possibly could before you left, and that made me feel more okay about saying goodbye. I laid on those sheets for days after you left, like, “She’s still here, in a way.” Fuck. It was the perfect ending to that trip.

What were your most memorable encounters of the year?

My Issues With Intercourse and How I Solve ‘Em

I’ve never had so many impassioned debates about intercourse as I did while I was writing a column on it for This magazine last year. And I’m a sex nerd, so, y’know, my life is almost always brimming with debates about intercourse. But for those few weeks, they were particularly densely packed.

See, the argument of my article was that millennials aren’t that into intercourse anymore. The reasons, I wrote, were manifold: pregnancy and STI concerns, performance anxieties, and less-than-ideal sexual stimulation, to name a few. I’d pitched this angle because it jelled with my own experience: I felt increasingly lukewarm about PIV (penis-in-vagina sex), and my male partners around that time seemed similarly ambivalent. As my fuckbuddy once put it, “PIV is on the menu, sure – but it’s a big menu.”

But lots of people argued with me when I explained what I was writing. Some men insisted they’d rather fuck than get sucked off. Some women explained they don’t feel entirely fulfilled by a sexual encounter if a peen doesn’t broach their vag. For every two friends who agreed with my thesis, there would be one who staunchly did not. That’s fine – humans’ sexual tastes are gloriously varied! – but it did get me thinking about why I’m not that keen on PIV. I had written about why millennials, more broadly, might not be that into it, but I hadn’t spent much time pondering why I, specifically, didn’t enjoy it anymore.

In subsequent contemplation, I’ve come up with five main issues I have with PIV. Here are those issues, along with the various workarounds I implement for them…

My vulva ring by Catstache Accessories!

Issue #1: Clit Stim

If you’re interested in sex and don’t live under a rock, you’ve probably heard that folks with vulvas typically need clitoral stimulation to reach orgasm. The stats vary, depending on which study you look at, but it’s generally estimated that somewhere between two-thirds and nine-tenths of us need clit stim if an orgasm is gonna happen. And guess what? PIV’s not great at providing that.

My usual solution here is to use a vibrator on my clit while I get fucked. My faves for this purpose are the We-Vibe Tango, Eroscillator, and Magic Wand Rechargeable. Those first two are slim enough to fit well between bodies, making them ideal for PIV; the Magic Wand, on the other hand, is huge, but can be accommodated in certain positions.

Of course, this workaround requires that I’m fucking someone who I know is vibrator-positive, which, unfortunately, some people are not. My dalliances with those folks never last very long, for obvious reasons. Some partners (*cough* this guy) even seem to find it hot when I use vibes with them, and that makes them even lovelier in my eyes.

Some people prefer “couples’ vibes” – vibrators specifically made for usage during sex – for their hands-free ease. The We-Vibe Sync is the best one in this category, bar none. I like my Sync a lot, but for the most part, I prefer having the freedom to manipulate my vibe as needed with my own hand, because my clit is a picky snob.

There are other, non-vibrator-dependent ways to get clit stim during PIV: you can rub it with your hand, have your partner do so, or choose a position where their body rubs against yours in a way that works for you.

You could also just get your clit stim at other times during the sex session, and relax into PIV knowing it’s not gonna knock your clit’s socks off and that’s okay. That sounds defeatist, maybe, but it doesn’t have to be: I love PIV when I’ve already had an orgasm, for example, because that’s when my G-spot is the most sensitive. I don’t even feel like I need clit stim at that point, because I’ve already gotten off and the G-spot stim feels so amazing.

My friend Bex also taught me that sometimes, having your clit ignored during PIV can be hot as part of a kink dynamic, if, for example, a partner is “using” you for their own pleasure or deviously denying you an orgasm.

Issue #2: Stamina and Time

Getting off takes time. There is some evidence that this is truer for folks with vulvas than for folks with penises, though some people claim this science is sexist claptrap. In any case, I certainly don’t come in thirty seconds. And while a partner might happily stroke my clit or fuck me with a toy for ten or twenty minutes, it’s usually more strenuous for them to fuck me with their dick for that long. Depending on the position, PIV can be a physical exertion, not to mention, sometimes a partner comes before I do, and then we have to stop. Right?

Well, not exactly. If a partner comes but I haven’t yet, we can (and often do) take a quick break and then get back into the sexy stuff. They may not be able to keep fucking me so soon after coming, but they can certainly get me off with toys, their hands, and/or their mouth – or they can just hold me and say filthy things in my ear while I get myself off.

I actually prefer to get off before intercourse, though – both because it makes my internal spots more sensitive, as I mentioned earlier, and because it takes the pressure off me to come while getting fucked. There’s a scene in The L Word where Alice bemoans lesbians’ “You do me, then I do you” sexual style; she says straight people have it easier because you both get off from the same act, at the same time. But that hasn’t been my experience with hetero sex at all. Not only is it tricky to sync up your orgasms, but it’s also hard for your partner to focus on pleasing you properly if they’re coming at the same time, and vice versa. I like to continue getting fucked really hard, and in precise ways, during and after my orgasm, and my beau can’t pull that off if they’re in the throes along with me!

If I’m specifically hankerin’ to come all over a cock, usually I’ll have a partner get me suuuuper riled up before the actual penetration begins. If I’m at an 8 when he starts fucking me, but he’s only at a 3, it’s likelier he’ll last long enough to get me off and keep fucking me for a few minutes afterward. Ahh, bliss!

Diagram via Wikipedia Commons.

Issue #3: Specific Spots

Stimulation of my anterior fornix, or A-spot, is the thing that makes me come (in combination with consistent clit stim). I wish I’d known this from the beginning of my PIV adventures, so I would’ve been able to tell partners how to get me off, or would’ve at least felt less “broken” when PIV didn’t immediately send me into orgasmic ecstasy.

Because the A-spot is situated pretty deep inside the vagina, I’m likeliest to reach orgasm during PIV if the dick involved is in the 6–7″ length range. (Longer than that would just be overkill: doable, but not needed.) It also helps if the dick’s girth is average or slightly slimmer than average, because thick cocks have a hard time gettin’ up in there.

In my experience, when most dudes fuck a vag, by default they fuck it however feels good for them, or they vaguely aim for the G-spot. That’s fine, but I get better results if I specifically tell partners I like to be fucked really deep. Even better if I let them find the spot with their fingers first, so they know exactly what to aim for.

My FWB has gotten me off with fingers and toys countless times, so he knows my A-spot like the back of his hand, so to speak. We don’t partake of PIV all that often, but when we do, I always notice him carefully shifting and angling and pressing and exploring until he finds the right spot with his dick. Honestly, that attention to detail makes me swoon – and makes me come. There is something so hot about knowing that someone not only wants to get you off but is using their brain and body in clever tandem to make it happen.

If PIV has always felt kinda “meh” for you, but you know that you like certain types of penetration, it might be worth figuring out how to replicate your preferred penetration techniques during PIV. Back when I was more into G-spot stimulation, for example, I used to love doggie-style sex for how it directly targeted that spot. I also find that pillows or a Liberator Jaz under my hips help enormously with angling a dick how I want it.

Issue #4: Penetration-centrism

Last summer I dated a boy who was amazing in bed, kinky, adventurous, and could make me come in a variety of ways, without making me feel guilty or weird about any of it. It’s surprising how rare this combination of qualities is.

However, a few weeks into our blowjob-heavy and cunnilingus-soaked tryst, we were sexting, and he remarked, “I still haven’t really been inside you yet…”

His fingers had been inside me. His tongue had been inside me. His dick had been in my mouth. But no, it had not been inside my vagina. I didn’t really care, and until that text, I thought he didn’t much care, either.

While I can’t tell you exactly what he meant or what he was thinking, I have seen a penetration-centric paradigm in many of my male partners. There is a sense that sex isn’t really sex unless a cock enters a vag. A stat in the book Becoming Cliterate exemplifies this perfectly: apparently two-thirds of women consider it sex when someone goes down on them, but only one-third of men consider it sex when they go down on someone. Fuck that noise! Oral sex is sex! And so are a lot of other non-penetrative sex acts.

I believe fiercely in the “campsite rule,” i.e. the idea that you should leave your romantic and sexual partners better than you found them. One of the ways I try to do this is by teaching straight cis men that intercourse isn’t actually the centre of the goddamn universe. If it’s vitally important to them, then fine, I’m happy to do it, but I need them to know that it’s not vitally important to me. Depending on my mood, I can be perfectly sated by a sex session that consists solely of oral sex, fingerbanging, and/or playing with toys. Hell, sometimes a terrific spanking feels like a complete sexual encounter in and of itself.

Enthusiastic and intentional statements of desire are a great way to establish this attitude. “I can’t wait to suck your cock until you come in my mouth tonight,” I might text, or, “I’m charging my Magic Wand right now and I want two of your thick fingers inside me later,” denoting a sexual encounter that has a beginning, a middle, and an end, none of which necessarily involve PIV.

Issue #5: My Face

I have so much anxiety about how my face looks during sex. I don’t entirely know why. Partners have told me on multiple occasions that I look cute/hot/beautiful while they’re bangin’ me, that I have nothing to worry about, and that they find me sexy as hell. But somehow, it still hasn’t entirely sunk in. Maybe it never will.

Sometimes I deal with this by getting fucked in positions where I’m facing away from my partner – but these aren’t ideal because I have a hard time coming if I’m on my knees or standing up, and it’s tricky to fit a vibe between my clit and the mattress when I’m face-down. To my chagrin for both anxiety reasons and kink reasons, good ol’ missionary is still my most orgasmic PIV position.

I often end up covering my face while getting fucked in missionary; I’ll sling an arm over my eyes, nuzzle sideways into a pillow, or pull my partner down closer to me so they can’t look me right in the fuckin’ face. All of these strategies help somewhat. But what helps a lot is a blindfold. It’s a juvenile solution that evokes toddlers who think you can’t see them if they can’t see you, but hey, it works for me. Something about being blindfolded helps me feel more relaxed about how my face looks, even as it’s twisting into a pre-orgasmic grimace.

I’ll never forget the time my FWB was fucking me in a hotel room and I was suddenly overcome with face-related anxiety. “I need a blindfold,” I said, helplessly. “That’s kind of weird, but okay,” he replied with kindness in his voice – and without missing a beat, he stripped the pillowcase off a nearby pillow, draped it over my eyes, and kept fucking me. And all was well with the world.

 

What are your best tips ‘n’ tricks for making PIV more enjoyable? Do you agree with me that millennials seem less enthused about it, on average, than previous generations?

Monthly Faves: Paddles, Porn, & Pompadours

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Not to be bragadocious, but July was a month of good, consistent, frequent sex for me. I am a lucky lady. I also gave more BJs this month than I perhaps ever have in my life. When it rains, it pours… Wink wink!

Sex toys

• I’ve loved my Fucking Sculptures Double Trouble ever since I got it, but this month my love for it was particularly intense. I had two different partners use it on me – it’s one of my favorite toys to get fucked with! – and they did a wonderful job every time. I love the moment when a partner tilts the Double Trouble just so and they find my A-spot; it’s a triumph for both of us. When Bex and I stayed in an Airbnb for a couple days to throw a party and make porn in mid-July, the only two toys I brought were the DT and my Magic Wand; I had a bunch of sex that weekend and those were the only toys I needed.

• A total sweetheart bought me a wooden hairbrush from my wishlist. It surprised me by becoming one of my favorite spanking implements almost immediately: it’s my ideal blend between thuddy and stingy. And, as a bonus, when my hair gets all messed up from a spanking and the sex that ensues, I can smooth it into submission with the brush. I have a feeling this toy will hold a place of honor in my purse from now on.

• Two impact-play toys in one list? Sure, why not… I bought a paddle from KinkMachineWorks that’s made of Lexan, a transparent material similar to plexiglass or acrylic. It’s unusually thuddy for a paddle (yes, good, yes please). My friend Georgia gave me some killer bruises with it, one sad drunken night, after which I felt a great deal better.

Fantasy fodder

• Remember when I told you I wasn’t that into PIV (penis-in-vagina) sex anymore? Yeah, turns out that when I’m seeing someone who’s really good at fucking me the way I like, I get right back on dat PIV train. There were even times this month when a partner was fucking me with a toy and I imagined it was his dick, which… isn’t how that usually goes for me.

• I love a good erotic audio. This one was a favorite of mine this month. God bless people who have the gift of a beautiful voice and put it to use in the form of kinky smut. (This one is also wonderful if you, like me, like to use sex and kink as motivators for productivity.)

• Binge-watching House always gets my sexual wheels spinning… I’ve gone through phases of being carnally obsessed with Chase, Wilson, and Thirteen, but I think my sexual tastes are growing up because it’s House himself who I’ve been fantasizing about a lot recently. Bex wrote up some of their dom-House headcanons and I kinda melted onto the floor. House is waaaay too much of an unstable asshole to date, but I’d sure as hell let him hit me with that cane while I was bent over his desk…

Sexcetera

• A sexual highlight of this month was when I made blowjob porn with a partner and then gave him another blowjob off-camera as aftercare. It’s interesting how much the mental context within which you perform a sexual act can influence how that act makes you feel. Giving head on camera was hot, fun, and a novelty for me, but it left me feeling a bit empty and sad because it lacked the validation and intimacy I’m used to when I go down on someone. Giving him a “real” BJ less than an hour afterward was exactly the fix I needed, and maybe that’s strange, but hey, it worked for me. (And he sure as hell wasn’t complaining.)

• It was a particularly spanking-heavy month for me. Various people – sexual partners and platonic friends alike – consensually spanked me with a wide array of items: a silicone paddle, a Lexan paddle, a suede flogger, a stone crop, a book about spanking, a wooden hairbrush, a glass dildo, and of course, hands. The deeper I dive down the rabbit hole of impact play, the more convinced I am that it’s vital to both my sexuality and my personal psychology.

• I had two important sexual anniversaries this month: the 5th marked five years since the first blowjob I ever gave, and the 22nd marked eight years since the first time I ever had sex. I didn’t really celebrate these milestones, except by having a lot of sex (including blowjobs aplenty, natch).

Femme stuff

• I am currently obsessed with doing my hair in a pompadour with lots of bobby pins and a bandana. It’s an easy and relatively quick style that keeps my hair off my face in this sticky summer heat. It involves a lot of teasing and smoothing, which I do with the aforementioned wooden hairbrush!

• Bex and I went shopping specifically for clothes to do porn in. We were very efficient: after quick stops at American Apparel and Ardene, I’d amassed some pink striped knee-high socks, a low-cut black crop top, a translucent pink tank top, a pink headband, a pink bow barrette, a pink dog collar, and a black lace-up crop top that I should probably wear to cosplay as Sexy Wednesday Addams. I feel more balanced now that the slutty section of my wardrobe is more thoroughly fleshed out.

• I was super into the lip combo I used when getting mega-glam for porn: ColourPop lip pencil in “Heart On” + a hot pink Bite Beauty gloss. Pretty, sexy, and obnoxiously pink. Yeah, that sounds about right.

Little things

Dramatic late-night back-porch nudes. Taking American friends to their first Toronto weed dispensaries. A boy telling me he wants to date me by sending me this song. “How did the clothes end up all on the floor? Didn’t we just break each other’s hearts?” Sharing a sundae with a handsome pal while thoroughly stoned. Sharing fuckbuddy disaster stories. Sasha doing my makeup for a kinda-date-that-wasn’t-a-date. Getting fingerbanged so good and then being told that making me come that way is “like wrestling with a little monster” because my vag muscles clench so hard when I’m close. The outpouring of support I got when my Establishment article went up. A boy giving me one of his shirts to wear home when we couldn’t find my dress. Accidental I-love-you’s. Sophie Delancey interviewing me on Sex City Radio. Lavender oil. Drunkenly discussing sexual astrology on the subway. Taylor misreading Georgia‘s Twitter handle (LikeYourSilence) as “Like Your Silicone.” Monster Factory. “I want you to come all over daddy’s cock like you did earlier…” Beautiful porn cinematography. Hippo Campus. Bravery. When vanilla partners inadvertently dom me. Friends who understand and accept my introversion and other psychological quirks. Kate McKinnon. Therapy spankings.