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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.

How Audio Porn Helps Me When I’m Depressed, Insecure, or Sexually Apathetic

Kate Sloan

I think I liked audio porn before I ever liked visual porn. And I don’t think this is an uncommon experience, particularly for women.

It makes sense. Much like some people prefer novels over their movie adaptations, sometimes you want to be able to visualize and fantasize inside your own head while consuming a piece of media, rather than having the visuals spelled out very literally for you.

But there are other reasons I still, to this day, often prefer audio porn over the traditional, cinematic variety. Namely:

1. Words are hot. There is not nearly enough dirty talk in most mainstream porn for my personal tastes, especially from men and masculine people, who are often nearly silent, I guess to keep from grossing out their cis-het male viewers?! As someone whose sex life has been 70%+ phone sex for the past few years, and who has spent her life writing about sex, I’m perhaps more attuned to the eroticism of words than the average porn consumer. Generally I’d rather listen to someone describing cunnilingus than watch them perform it, for example – in part because it’s a sex act where, if you’re doing it right, often nothing all that interesting will be visually apparent from the outside.

2. Sounds are hot. Moans, quickening breaths, the animalistic sound of someone desperately stroking their cock – these things are often the most exciting parts of porn to me, to the point that if a clip has been muted, or has poor sound quality, I tend to close that tab and move on to the next. In audio porn, obviously the auditory elements of eroticism are played up and focused upon, plus they tend to be rendered in higher quality because of the performers’ proximity to their (often) fancy, ASMR-quality mics.

3. It makes me less insecure and self-critical. While I reject the notion that female porn stars aren’t “real women,” because obviously they are, they tend to be a lot more conventionally gorgeous than me, which can bring up uncomfortable feelings while I’m just trying to turn myself on and get off. Some audio porn describes the characters therein, but much of it is created to be intentionally vague, so that the listener can slot themselves into any fantasy they want without having to compare themselves to the preexisting people in that fantasy.

4. It’s physically easier to consume. I didn’t always care about this, but now that I’m chronically ill, there are some days when the effort of holding up my iPad to watch porn – or orienting myself in bed so that I can comfortably see the screen – is just too much, especially if I want to have energy left over afterward for masturbation or sex. I like that with audio porn, I can put my headphones on, hit “play,” and stay perfectly still in whatever position feels comfy while I listen.

5. It’s often in the second person. I know some people hate this about audio erotica, and would be comfier if it only ever described third-person scenarios (“She took his cock into her mouth,” etc.) rather than being in the second person (“You’re going to take my cock into your mouth now, pretty girl”). But I like the second-person ones, and especially enjoyed them when I was in my early 20s and had only just admitted to myself that I might be kinky. (LOL. What an understatement.) Hearing kinky dirty talk that was from a stranger, but that still felt like it was aimed directly at me, helped me become comfortable taking on a submissive role before I ever actually acted out those fantasies with real-life partners.

6. It’s comforting. I don’t know if I’m quite an “ASMR person,” in that I don’t often experience the characteristic “brain tingles” reported by those folks upon hearing certain sounds or encountering situations that trigger them. But I do find it oddly calming to be talked through a sexy scenario by a kind-hearted stranger who requires absolutely nothing from me, in terms of participation or prettiness. It’s like the grown-up version of when you stay home sick from school and a loving parent reads aloud to you from a fantasy novel.

 

Have you listened to much audio porn? What are your thoughts on it?

 

This post was sponsored by the folks at Sofia Sins, the cool new audio-porn platform from Sofia Gray. Check ’em out if sexy audio turns you on! As always, all writing and opinions here are my own.

10 Places I’d Gladly Wear Vibrating Underwear

Kate Sloan

1. The train ride from Toronto to Montreal takes about 5 hours. Sunny and fast, it’s certainly preferable to crowding onto a musty bus or (god forbid) driving there myself – but entertainment options are limited. I get carsick if I read anything while in a moving vehicle, so books and magazines are out. Normally I just load a bunch of podcast episodes and audiobooks onto my iPad and let the voices in my headphones entertain me for the duration of the trip. But it would be sooo much more amusing if I was also wearing a vibrator, even if I was the one operating the controls. Some vulva-possessing people already report that the steady vibrations of a bus or train can stimulate their bits if they angle themselves correctly in their seat, sometimes even to the point of orgasm – and it’s the same principle, really!

2. Assuming I had the consent of the artist, I think getting a tattoo would be an interesting activity to combine with panty vibrators. Big and intricate tattoos, especially, tend to be a long slog of painful pokes and periodic waves of endorphins; the addition of sexual pleasure could balance and recontextualize the pain, making the overall sensation more bearable and more enjoyable. However, now that I think about it, I’m not sure vibrations in my underwear would be the best idea for an activity where remaining perfectly still is paramount…

3. While I love the idea of going to the opera – partly because of how fancy you’re allowed to dress when you go – in reality I’ve literally fallen asleep during every opera performance I’ve ever been to. I think my brain is far too easily lulled into slumber by the cognitive effort of trying to discern what someone is communicating when they’re singing in a language I don’t speak, even if it sounds beautiful regardless. I feel bad for being an inattentive audience member; maybe a (quiet) panty vibe would help keep me alert enough to actually see an entire opera show for once!

4. I often go to my local coffee shop when I need to get some writing done (or at least, I did pre-pandemic). While a vibrator might not be the most useful accessory if I was working on something serious and research-heavy, I do find that writing erotica benefits enormously from me being actively turned on while I write it. It helps me get out of my brain (“What would these characters theoretically say and do in this situation?”) and into my body (“How would I want to get totally railed right now if I was one of these characters?!”). Provided the café was bustling enough that some buzzing noises wouldn’t be an issue, I think a panty vibe would be a great way to induce that mood, and thus improve my writing.

5. My former sugar daddy had a thing for remote-controlled vibrators; he disclosed to me his fantasy that sometime I would wear one in a café bathroom while he got me off from miles away. With that in mind, I think it would be fun to wear a panty vibe during a shopping spree, whether I was in a submissive/sugar baby type of role in relation to my libidinous chaperone, or a more dominant/findomme-esque one. Of course, most stores probably (reasonably) have an unspoken “you have an orgasm while wearing it, you buy it” policy…

6. If the pandemic situation ever resolves to a point where I feel comfortable going to a rock concert again (here’s hoping), I’d love to wear a vibe under my skirt while moshing and sloshing around with other rambunctious attendees. There is something genuinely erotic about going to see live music – the way the bass vibrates through your flesh, the close contact with strangers’ sweaty bodies, the (often alcohol-fuelled) feeling of blissful rapture during a great guitar solo or well-earned encore – and a vibrator would just up the ante on all of those sensations. I wonder how many people have had orgasms in mosh pits… More than zero, I am quite certain.

7. I’ve already worn panty vibes on the occasional cocktail bar date, but it’s a situation worth revisiting. Dates and drinks already make me feel flirty, flustered, and off-kilter – adding vibration takes that to the next level!

8. Can you imagine wearing a panty vibe as part of a game show? I’m not talking about Jeopardy, Wheel of Fortune, The Price is Right, et al., although I do wonder if Bluetooth-controlled vibrators have ever graced those hallowed stages… No, this fantasy of mine is closer to a “Hysterical Literature” type of thing. Perhaps a trivia game or spelling bee where all participants are being distracted by sexual sensations while trying to answer questions as quickly and accurately as they can. I like to think I’d do well, but who the hell knows!

9. There are lots of places in a fancy hotel where a panty vibe might come in handy, but to name just one… Sometimes when we stay in hotels, my partner sends me out with a bucket to find the nearest ice machine, so they can mix us little cocktails from the contents of our minibar stash. I often feel pretty submissive while doing this, because I’m walking around an unfamiliar place, clutching an unfamiliar prop, on a mission assigned to me by my dominant. Trotting up and down endless staircases in search of the word “ICE” on a wall or a door would be so much more entertaining if there was a vibe involved.

10. Finally, I would be remiss not to mention a park picnic as an ideal destination for a vibrator-enhanced outing. Just imagine it: the summer sun is out, you’re sated on yummy cucumber-and-cream-cheese sandwiches (or whatever else sounds delectable and refreshing to you), and your favorite person is smiling wickedly at you as they give you pleasure with a flick of their fingers on their phone screen. I can imagine few better endeavors to be the centerpiece of a relaxed summer day.

 

What are your favorite places to wear remote-controlled vibrators?

 

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

What is “Ethical Porn,” Anyway?

Kate Sloan

People have been debating the concepts of “ethical porn,” “feminist porn,” and “authentic porn” the entire time I’ve been in this industry. It’s a constant push-and-pull within the queer, sex-positive, and feminist communities. Is porn an oppressive force, or an avenue for change and exploration? (Depends.) Is “male-gaze” porn hot, or problematic? (Depends.) Is what happens on porn sets always fully consensual? (Sadly, no.)

The concept of “ethical porn” is somewhat elastic and subjective, but it’s always interesting to see how individual people and companies choose to define this term for themselves. Sex toy brand Bellesa recently launched Bellesa Plus, their new porn subscription service which they’re calling “the Netflix of porn.” It features not only sexy videos but also interactive sex education and 600+ written erotica stories. Since ethics is a major focus of the work they’re doing, I thought it would be cool to expand on this concept a bit, and ponder the morality of smut.

 

Here are some basic benchmarks for what I would consider ethical porn:

• Performers are treated well. I mean, of course! They should be provided with snacks and water on set, able to take breaks when they need to, and valued and respected by everyone involved in the production. To me, this also includes implementing health and safety measures that help keep performers safe, like STI screening requirements (which Bellesa Plus, like most porn studios I’ve heard of, enforces), and having lots of lube available on set.

• Performers are paid well. As a feminist, I believe in pay equity, pay transparency, and fair payment for services rendered. Porn performers work incredibly hard and deserve compensation that reflects that, for each and every scene they do.

• Performers have agency. When I’ve performed in porn for indie companies, I’ve always been encouraged to choose scene partners who I genuinely like, trust, and want to have sex with on camera – which made the experience much more comfortable for me. Bellesa Plus is doing the same thing: their performers all choose who they want to work with, so the chemistry you see on-screen is based in real desire. Their performers also have veto power vis-a-vis what kinds of storylines they will or won’t perform in, and what kinds of sex they will have, and they can call an immediate end to the scene whenever they want, should something go awry.

• Everything depicted is consensual, and anything that appears non-consensual is properly contextualized. Unfortunately, some porn producers and performers are unscrupulous, and various forms of sexual assault do sometimes happen on porn sets. Truly ethical pornographers would immediately fire and blacklist anyone known to do shit like this, and would encourage (or require) a pre-scene negotiation between performers to establish ground rules for the scene. Bellesa assures me that 100% of the sex you’ll see on Bellesa Plus is consensual, and was filmed consensually. That said, many, many people have fantasies that involve some degree of non-consent – “rape” fantasies and other kinky power-exchange scenarios remain very popular in polls about such things – and those people should be able to access that type of material if they want to, although I think it should always be paired with some indication that the performers are actually consenting to what they’re doing. I’ve mostly seen that done via pre-scene and post-scene interviews with the performers about their fantasies, expectations, and limits.

• Content warnings are provided for each scene. We have them for mainstream movies in the form of MPAA rating descriptors; why not have them for porn, too? As a porn viewer who has certain triggers and squicks (which almost everyone does, to some extent), I often get frustrated when I put on what I think is going to be a hot scene, only to find that it contains some of the things I can’t handle or just don’t want to watch. A brief list of content warnings would help enormously, especially if timecodes were provided so I could skip past the stuff I didn’t want to see.

• Diversity of performers and filmmakers is prioritized. There is, frankly, more than enough porn made by straight cis able-bodied white guys out there already. They can and will keep doing their thing, but I’m much more interested in porn made by people from marginalized groups: people of color, queer people, trans people, disabled people, neurodivergent people, etc. etc. etc. Much of the porn on Bellesa Plus is directed by Jacky St. James, a legendary female pornographer, whose gaze and approach differ substantially from those of typical mainstream porn.

 

Bellesa Plus is doing some other things I think are awesome, too:

• They offer sliding-scale pricing, so that people who want to watch porn can access it for as little as $1/month. Paying more gets you cool perks like free sex toys, but if you just want cheap smut, they’ve got you covered. This is terrific news for people who care about supporting pornographers financially but don’t have much spare cash with which to do so.

• Director Jacky St. James has a “no fake orgasms” policy. I actually think fake orgasms can sometimes be hot, in the same way that I’m not mad when Meryl Streep cries in a movie despite not really being sad because she’s so damn good that it’s affecting regardless – but the prevalence of fake female orgasms in mainstream porn does contribute to culture-wide misinformation about sex and pleasure, so it’s cool to see some companies deviating from that norm.

• Their porn focuses on storyline and chemistry, rather than being all about closeups of tits and pussy and cock and ass. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good genitalia shot, but I also hear from readers/followers of mine pretty regularly that they wish porn had more of a story arc, relationship development, real chemistry, and so on. As a demisexual person, I totally get that for some people, it can be hotter to watch sex that’s been put in context emotionally, rather than just depicting a detached fuck in an unexplained location.

 

What about you? How would you define “ethical porn”? How do your tastes in porn relate to your values and ethics, if at all?

 

This post was graciously sponsored by the folks at Bellesa Plus. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.

What Would Be in Your Dream Kink Dungeon?

Kate Sloan
Photo taken by Taylor J Mace at the Ritual Chamber

One of my favorite activities for stress relief – right alongside playing Pokémon games, listening to comedy podcasts, and (yes) masturbating – is perusing real estate listings.

I know this wouldn’t work for everyone, since housing and finances are, themselves, stressful areas of life for many of us. But if I’m able to fully divorce my realistic expectations for my own life from the properties I’m looking at, I can enjoy four-story floorplans and massive mansions to my heart’s content. Seriously, have you ever gone to Zillow, typed in the name of your city/town, sorted by “price: high to low,” and ogled the abodes therein? Sheer heaven for your eyes. (Not so much for your wallet, though.)

A treasured real estate-related fantasy of mine is to have enough rooms in my home that I could dedicate an entire room to kink. It would have blackout curtains, mood lighting, and a lot of jewel tones… but it would also have to have, of course, lots of kink equipment.

In this fantasy timeline, I would drop by the local BDSM store and basically fill my cart, and then some. I’d line the walls with elegant hooks and racks for all my various impact implements, giant dildos, and fetishwear. It would be a perverted smorgasboard.

Furniture-wise, of course I’d need a spanking bench. I like the kind that looks vaguely vintage, like it was hand-crafted out of wood and leather for disciplinary purposes. I’ve also always dreamed of having some furniture that would integrate well into my age-play fantasies, like a wide oak desk the likes of which you’d see in a principal’s office, or a row of metal lockers a bully could slam me against in a moment of lascivious aggression. A queening chair (i.e. a seat with an open hole in the middle where your partner can lay their head while you sit on their face) would also be a must-have for my dommier moments, and would likely be easier on my pain-wracked knees than normal kneeling.

There would also have to be a bed, because – as much as I’d like to be the kind of kinkster who can fuck standing up, or draped over a spanking bench, or bent over a desk, my body just aches too much most of the time for athletic shenanigans. I’d want to be able to flop onto a soft surface while recovering from subspace. Plus, one of my all-time favorite bondage toys is my set of under-the-bed restraints, and they need a bed to go under!

Although it would be hot and exciting to have a kink-specific space in my home, I think really one of the key reasons to have one is the way in which it could help me relax into a kink session. I could literally leave my stressors at the door (at least in theory), knowing as I entered that I was about to leave the “real world” and step into a space dedicated to pleasure and play. For a person who gets stressed out easily, that would be a massive improvement over trying to do kink in a space containing stress triggers like dirty laundry, unpaid bills, and a visibly inundated email inbox on a computer screen.

That said, while I might never have a home dungeon of my very own, I can at least try to bring some dungeon-esque vibes into my own room for the time being. I can turn off my computer, hide away my clutter, dim the lights, display some sexy toys, and put on some chillaxing music. It may not be Christian Grey-level glamorous, but it shows commitment to myself, my partner(s), and our shared pleasure – and that’s a commitment worth making, if you ask me.

 

How about you? What would you put in the dungeon (or other kink-focused space) of your dreams?

 

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