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Phone Sex Every Day? Sure, Why Not

Kate Sloan

One of the weirdest things about being a sex writer is the cognitive dissonance between the sexual person your readers think you are and the sexual person you actually are.

It’s important to keep in mind, always, as you’re scrolling through your social media feeds and your RSS reader (if you still use one of those antiquated things like I do), that comparing yourself to people you see on the internet is comparing your insides to somebody else’s outsides. You’re never getting the full picture, even if you think you are.

And that’s not as bad a thing as some people would have you believe, either. “Authenticity” and “transparency” are only useful up to a point; y’all don’t need to know about the chin hairs I pluck or the ins and outs of my fibre intake. I mean, maybe some of you want to know that stuff (I know plenty of my readers have unusual fetishes!) but I am by no means obligated to share it all with you. The people who make me the most uncomfortable in this business are the people who insist that my openness and honesty in certain areas mean I’m required to be open and honest in every area. Nope. Fuck that. Fuck that forever.

All this to say: I’m probably not as horny or as sexually adventurous a person as you might imagine. In fact, if not for phone sex, I think these days I’d only jerk off 2-3 times a week, tops, if left to my own (vibrating) devices.

That caveat – “if not for phone sex” – is what I want to talk about today. As you might know, I keep a sex spreadsheet, so I have stats on my IRL sex life for the past several years and my phone-sex sex life for the past year and a half. My partner mb – who is delightfully chill about the whole “recording detailed data on our intimate encounters” thing – recently pointed out to me, as we were totalling up our sex numbers from the 4 months they spent quarantined with me, that despite having phone sex nearly every night when we’re apart, we didn’t have sex every single night we were physically together. We had sex 84 times in the 121 days they were here – so, about 69% of those nights (nice). I had noticed that too, and had been pondering the possible reasons.

When we discussed it, we came to 2 overall conclusions about why we’re more prolifically horny over the phone than IRL:

  1. Sometimes the “point” of sex (or one of them, anyway) is to establish intimacy and connection. When we’re together IRL (especially when quarantining), we’re already getting a lot of that throughout the day – not to mention throughout the night, when we cuddle and touch and kiss and can smell each other and feel each other’s warmth all night. Sex isn’t less appealing, necessarily, but it doesn’t feel like as urgent a need when part of its “purpose” is getting fulfilled elsewhere.
  2. In-person sex takes more energy. Phone sex is comparatively chill.

That second one is really the crucial one for me, I think. As a person with depression and chronic pain + fatigue, sometimes I just don’t have the energy for sex, despite knowing it would almost certainly improve my mood and my pain status. It’s not only the physical motion involved – which can be reduced or almost entirely eliminated when I’m fucking a capable and enthusiastic top, like mb – but also the mental energy involved. No matter how comfortable I am with a partner, it still saps some of my energy to constantly wonder if my sex faces look weird, or if my body is actually as attractive as my partner claims it is, or if my roommate can hear the impacts when I’m getting spanked.

It’s a lot like how Zoom video calls can be utterly draining for me (I’m sure many of you can relate) while audio-only calls are comparatively blissful. I just don’t have enough brain-spoons to simultaneously manage not only the conversation we’re having but also how I look while we’re having it. Let’s turn our video off so I can forget, briefly, just how ugly I secretly worry I am.

Phone sex with mb is so good that I’ve pondered many times whether we can continue having it when we’re eventually living together. And fortunately, they’re the type of inventive, considerate, GGG partner that I honestly feel like we might. I can imagine us residing together in a tiny one-bedroom New York apartment and me saying at the end of a long day, “Hey, I’m super worn out. Can I go to the other room so we can have phone sex?” I’d bring some sex toys with me and slip back seamlessly into that pleasantly agitated headspace I so often inhabited when we had just started dating and our romantic nighttime phone sex sessions were the fuel that propelled me through my difficult, depressed days.

I’ve had a wide range of opinions on long-distance relationships over the course of my life, but I never really thought I would prefer them, or at least prefer elements of them. Maybe it’s a bad sign about my relationship with my body that non-corporeal forms of sex seem to appeal to me more, and rev my sexual engine more consistently, than types involving my actual fucking body – but honestly, the world is a mess right now. “Whatever works.” That’s the phrase I keep saying to friends on the phone and via text when they tell me about some supposedly “weird” coping mechanism or distracting hobby they’ve picked up since the coronavirus swept the world. “Whatever works.” Whatever makes you feel happier and more at ease and more functional is worth at least considering.

I’m so blessed to have a partner who understands and accepts all of my limitations, and not only knows how to work within them but also actively gets excited about finding new ways to work within them. I am so lucky to be in love with someone so good, so kind, so accommodating. And I am so lucky to have access to a type of sex that bridges gaps, raises my self-image, requires very little energy on my part, and makes me feel like a scintillating stunner even when I’m lying in bed with day-old pajamas on and a cavalcade of unsexy pillows cradling my aching body.

 

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

Review: Spartacus Blown Large Realistic Glass Dildo

Kate Sloan

You might think being a sex toy reviewer for nearly a decade would’ve expanded my sexual horizons – and in many ways, it has. But in other ways, it’s just allowed me to hone in on which types of toys I really, really like, and skew my collection more and more in the direction of things I specifically adore.

On that note, I will confess to you that there are basically only 2 categories of insertable toys I unreservedly love: glass dildos, and realistic silicone dildos. Sure, there are outliers – chief among them, the stainless steel Njoy Eleven and the lacquered wood NobEssence Seduction – but for the most part, I know what I like and I stick to that.

That’s why it’s such a surprise that it’s taken me this long to acquire and try the Spartacus Blown Large Realistic Glass Dildo (phew, what a mouthful… and a vag-ful). As far as I’m concerned, it’s the best of both worlds: a realistic cock, made of glass. The good folks at Mindful were generous enough to send me one from their extensive smorgasbord of dildos.

Let me say this right upfront: you will not enjoy this dildo if you like internal stimulation that is all soft strokes and satisfying squish. If that’s your deal, but you want something of comparable dimensions, get a VixSkin Bandit instead. This glass dildo is for people who like to get fucked hard, with large, unforgiving objects. People, in other words, like me!

See, the thing is, I love realistic dildos because I love flesh-and-blood cocks. I eroticize the shape of them, the idea, and – sure – the actual physical sensations of them. I know dicks aren’t everyone’s jam, so I won’t try to argue that something about the shape of the coronal ridge and veined shaft of a cock is “designed” to “naturally” pleasure the inside of a vagina. But for me, that feels true. The right dick – paired with lube, a good vibrator, and a partner with decent stamina, patience, and aim – can get me off easily and excellently. This is why I gravitate toward dildos that look like this much-revered human appendage.

But on the other end of the spectrum are glass dildos. Obviously, there are some things dildos can do that flesh dicks simply cannot (and vice versa), and those differences are particularly apparent in toys made of glass. My most sensitive internal spots – the G-spot and the A-spot – tend to like firm pressure once they’re turned on, and sometimes even the hardest of erections just isn’t as hard as I would prefer. It’s not through any failing of these cocks’ owners; it’s just a fact of human biology.

This toy, by contrast, is if like you were hooking up with someone who had one of the biggest* and most pleasurable cocks you’d ever experienced, and suddenly a witch cast a spell on them and turned them to stone (or, in this case, glass). Yeah, that would be horrifying. But also… for me at least, their dick would suddenly start feeling at least 20% better. (Now that I think about it, this sounds like a fantasy that my death-fetishist friend Dick Wound might be into…)

*Important note for those of you who might be worried: bigger does not always equal better. Big dicks are just one item on the menu at the sex buffet. For some people, it’s their favorite item and all they ever prefer. Some people will always like smaller penetration, or none at all. As for me, I’m sometimes a size queen and sometimes I want something smaller, gentler, and/or more targeted. Don’t @ me about this. Your dick is great no matter what size it is, I promise. I just… don’t need to hear details about it in the comments section, okay? 😘

Love a realistic frenulum and coronal ridge.

This Spartacus glass dildo boasts 8 inches of insertable length and a diameter of 1.75 inches at its widest point. That’s pretty hefty, especially if you keep in mind that glass toys tend to feel bigger than silicone toys of the same dimensions because they have no give. I have to be pretty warmed up to take this one, but once I am, it’s incredibly satisfying: the tight fit enables me to feel all the subtle-yet-important veins running along the toy, and there’s more than enough length to reach my A-spot with the tip while the shaft strokes against my G-spot. I find that orgasms, especially, are enhanced by the hugeness and hardness of this toy: my vag clenches around it, pushing it yet more firmly against my erogenous zones in a rhythmic manner while I come. It reminds me of some qualities I love about the Double Trouble, only without the spot-targeting curves.

Yes, this Spartacus dildo is straight as fuck. (I am not commenting on its sexual orientation, which I don’t know. I mean its shape.) Normally I think it’s a bad idea for a toy to be this firm and this curveless; toys along these lines have caused me great pain and discomfort before. Indeed, I do have to be rrrreally turned on and rrrreally lubed up before this toy will start to feel good. But once it’s comfortably inserted, I can use the balls at the base to easily angle the tip upward, into my A-spot, so it bypasses my cervix and rams into only the area that likes to be rammed. However, obviously your mileage may vary – I would be wary of this one if you’ve had a lot of trouble with cervix-bashing toys before and haven’t found angling to be helpful in that regard.

Let’s talk about those balls, though… Balls on realistic dildos are highly controversial among sex toy nerds. Some people hate ’em, some love ’em, some don’t pay the slightest attention to ’em. I’m mostly in that latter category, but I do think that in this case they were a wise choice. As someone whose chronic illness sometimes manifests as pain and weakness in my hands and arms, it’s really important to me that dildos be easy to thrust and manipulate. The base of this dildo – which is wider than normal bases, due to the inclusion of balls – makes it possible for me to angle the toy as needed and thrust it just by rhythmically bumping the heel of my hand against the bottom, even on bad pain days. With the addition of the toy’s prominent veins, this can create a lot of sensation with minimal effort – score. If you want a similar toy without balls, Spartacus makes a ball-less one that’s just a little bit smaller (7″ by 1.5″).

The flared base of this toy makes it anal-safe – and also, fascinatingly, makes it harness-compatible. It’s really hot to think about getting fucked by someone who has a glass cock strapped on – although, if you try this, please be careful; it would be all too easy to painfully ram someone with this toy if you couldn’t feel what you were doing.

My partner has fucked me with this toy by hand and they noted that it’s easy to thrust (thanks again, balls!) and very pretty to look at. The veins make it a bit of a nightmare to clean, but if you scrub it with a washcloth or scrub brush while you’re soaping it up, you should be alright.

Overall I’m quite enamored with this Spartacus glass dildo. I hope we start to see more toys crop up in the “realistic glass” category. Dicks are lovely; glass is lovely; the combination of the two is a joy.

 

Thanks so much to Mindful for sending me this dildo to review! They have a fantastic selection of dildos in countless different shapes, sizes, and materials for you to peruse. Did you know that they rebranded recently? They used to be called My First Blush; I gotta say I like the name Mindful better! Their mission is all about providing high-quality products and exceptional customer service. Sounds good to me!

This post was sponsored, which means I was paid to write a fair and honest review. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.

On Using Dating Sites During a Pandemic

Kate Sloan

At the beginning of this pandemic, I thought, “Guess nobody’s gonna be dating for a while” – but my friends are proving me wrong.

It’s been fascinating to observe. I have friends who’ve logged onto OkCupid just to have flirty, esoteric text chats with strangers, friends who’ve sipped coffee on Zoom dates with cute new beaux also sipping coffee in their apartment across town, and friends who’ve even met up with potential paramours for socially-distanced park picnics or patio hangs. Knowing and trusting that my friends are staying smart and staying safe (to the best of their ability within a harm-reduction framework), I admire their ingenuity in the face of the lockdown loneliness that’s hit many people hard.

I myself have even scrolled through Tinder once in a while during this global crisis (old habits die hard), looking to strike up a volley of banter with someone hot and smart. It’s not that I’m necessarily looking for new partners or dates – in fact, I very much do not have the energy for that these days, and wouldn’t feel safe meeting up with strangers just yet. It’s that I miss the sense of serendipity and possibility that comes with, say, discovering the guy sitting next to you at the cocktail bar loves the same longform improv troupe you do, or blushing when the cute clerk at the bodega tells you she likes your dress. These little hits of romantic “what if?” are so small, and rarely lead to anything more (for me, at least), but some days they are the social fuel that keeps me going. So if asking random Tinder folks offbeat questions just for the sake of conversation is the safest way to access that feeling these days, I commend anyone who chooses to do it in order to hold onto their social sanity and sense of hope.

Here are some crucial commandments to follow – in my opinion, which is not necessarily the wisest and certainly not the most medically informed opinion, mind you! – if you want to use dating services for just such purposes while we wait for a vaccine and a return to quasi-normalcy:

  1. Pick the right site/app for you. This is always the first step I recommend when embarking on online-dating adventures, because these days, the options are so plentiful and so varied that you can actually tailor your choice to your tastes and priorities. Click around the site/app to get a sense for its overall culture and what its users are generally into, whether that be casual hookups, long-term relationships, non-monogamy, or whatever else. If you’re not sure, you can also read reviews (like this Uberhorny review) of the site/app you’re considering using. Pro tip: I would imagine that sites and apps which have actively issued safety warnings to their users about COVID-19 – like Tinder and Grindr – are likelier to have cultures wherein fewer mask-eschewers and “plandemic” believers can fester.
  2. Be upfront about your intentions, ideally right in your bio so no one has to waste time on you if their desires don’t align with yours. If you’re only up for phone dates and Skype dates for the next several months, say so. If you’re hopeful that that’ll include phone sex, sexting, or what-have-you, say so. If you’re looking for someone to actually meet up with IRL during all this, say so – and include information about what safety measures you would expect to implement around that, and what you’d expect from a potential date in that arena. I know this isn’t the most “chill” stuff to put on your profile, but look, we’re not living in “chill” times.
  3. Don’t lower your standards just because times are tough and pickings are slim. Yeah, maybe all you’re seeking is a torrid sexting session with a rando, but you still deserve a rando who’s polite, respectful, and makes you feel good! Try to remember what your dating priorities were before this mess started (I know, it can be difficult to hearken back to The Before) and do your best to seek people who line up with that. It’s true that priorities can change in troubling times, but the basic facts are always still there: you don’t need to put up with people you find rude, entitled, or boring. You still deserve the high-quality connections you want – whatever that means to you – even if circumstances feel pretty different now.
  4. Make digital dates feel like “real” dates in whatever ways work for you. That might be dressing up, lighting some candles, tidying your room, making yourself a nice meal or cocktail to enjoy while you chat with your new cutie, or something else entirely. The ritual of dating has always been one of my favorite things about it, and if that’s true for you too, it’d be a pity to miss out on that comfort and excitement just because you’re stuck at home. You don’t have to have that sexting session while wearing dirty sweatpants and rocking unbrushed teeth – in fact, you’d probably feel much sexier during the convo if you didn’t!
  5. Come prepared with questions or games, because – as you might know – phone dates and Skype dates can be a little awkward at first. True, in-person dates can also be weird as fuck, but most of us have more experience with them and know how to navigate their weirdnesses better. In case of uncomfortable silences, you can usually remark on something in your environment or ask the bartender a question or whatever – not so when you’re holed up in the same bedroom you’ve been stuck in for ages! Plus, most of us have had fewer everyday social interactions these past few months than we did before, so our ability to be smooth and chatty may have eroded slightly. If I was trying to meet new dates online at this time, I would prep a few interesting questions to ask my date, and frame it (if necessary) as a game where we ask each other questions – or just set it up by simply saying, “Can I ask you something weird that I’m curious about?” You could even send your date this list of questions and take turns asking each other things.
  6. Allow for adjustments if and when you end up meeting a new beau in person, whether that’s a few weeks from now or way out in the future when the pandemic has died down significantly. I recently interviewed dating expert Camille Virginia about finding love in the time of coronavirus, and she reminded me that intimacy and rapport can feel very different online than they do offline – so your super-hot phone-sex pal might not immediately turn your crank once you can actually touch them, smell them, and see how they move through the world, but that’s okay. It takes time to adjust to each other’s in-person conversational rhythms and quirky mannerisms. “If you had a great connection over video or phone calls, try to establish a new norm with that in person,” Camille says, “because it’s a different way of being with each other. Give it a little longer.”

Have you been using dating sites/apps during the pandemic? What’s your strategy?

 

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

Book Review: Brothel’s Kitchen

Kate Sloan

Sex work is such a normalized field in my sex-positive, feminist communities that sometimes I sort of forget just how stigmatized it is in the world at large – even among people who claim to be “liberal” and “progressive.”

Narratives persist about how all sex work is nonconsensual and exploitative, despite sex workers screaming on social media for years that they’ve chosen their career path and don’t want or need to be “rescued.” Many people still use phrases like “selling your body” to talk about what is actually just the sale of your time and your body-based services, just like what happens in many other fields like massage, modeling, and professional sports. Far too many well-intentioned people try to argue that sex work is bad because it’s “disempowering,” as if the slog of earning a living is held to the same standard of “empowerment” in any other field. It’s perplexing and enraging – especially since so many of these folks think they’re being helpful by parroting their bullshit opinions that are (you guessed it) actively disempowering to sex workers.

I think a lot of this misinformation has to do with sex work’s representation (or lack thereof) in mainstream media, from the evening news to procedural dramas to blockbuster movies. For decades, if not longer, it’s been framed over and over as something one would only do under the direst of financial circumstances, or to get access to drugs, or to quench a psychological craving based in “daddy issues” or other trauma. While obviously there is poverty, addiction, and trauma in the sex work community (just as those things exist in pretty much every other community too), these narratives usually leave out the ways in which sex work can be incredibly positive and enriching for workers and their clients. And hey, newsflash: a job doesn’t have to be 100% peachy all the time to be a valid job worthy of respect and protections. We live under capitalism! Work sucks! Let people choose work that they like to do and feel able to do, since we all have to work anyway!

All this to say, I think positive portrayals of sex work are invaluable in shifting public perception of this misunderstood field. So I was pleased to be asked to review Phillipa Zosime’s new memoir, Brothel’s Kitchen: Flavours of Women.

The book follows Phillipa’s induction into the sex work industry in Austria. It opens with a series of scenes set at a massive orgy held by one of the brothels she works for, at which she’s expected to fuck and fellate clients for 7 hours (with breaks to shower, hydrate, eat, and rest). After she enjoys herself and gets paid, there’s a classic “You’re probably wondering how I ended up in this situation…” flashback and we turn back time to when she first entered the sex work world. Once an archaeology student and political intern, she decided instead to follow her fascination with sex and start having it professionally.

One very interesting aspect of this book to me is the details about Austria’s legal and regulated sex work industry. Regular STI tests are required, workers are considered self-employed contractors for the brothels they frequent, and meticulous paperwork is kept to make sure everything is legit. Many sex workers I know in Canada and the U.S. advocate for decriminalization rather than legalization/regulation, since (among other reasons) legislative bodies don’t tend to know very much about what sex workers and their clients actually need and want – but nonetheless, it was intriguing to hear about how brothels are apparently run over in Austria. The book goes into detail about how profits are split up between workers, madams, and house owners, as well as how much they pay in taxes and what kind of legal due diligence they’re expected to keep up with on a regular basis. These procedural minutiae ought to captivate anyone who’s curious about sex work law around the world.

Another fascinating detail from Philippa’s story is that she had only had one sexual partner before becoming a sex worker. It hadn’t been the most satisfying relationship, and she ended up having her first-ever orgasm with a client at the brothel (which became a point of pride for him and a running joke between them!). This was the point in the book when I started to get excited: it’s a really uncommonly positive depiction of what a career in sex work can be like. If there were more stories like this out there – stories that showcase the good, the bad, the ugly and the beautiful parts of sex work – I think far fewer people would hold shitty misconceptions about the industry.

Yes, there are scary and sad parts of Phillipa’s story. Her friend dies; clients blow up in anger on occasion; women get into snippy arguments; someone’s money gets stolen from her safety deposit box at the brothel. But all of these details just felt really real to me. Writing a fully rosy sex work memoir would, I imagine, be just as absurd as making any other career sound 100% fun 100% of the time. Life has its ups and downs, and so do our jobs, no matter what field we work in.

In addition to heartwarming sex-work friendships and heart-pounding sex-work problems, this book also contains quite a few funny stories that had me literally LOLing. There’s one in particular about one girl accidentally spitting cum onto another girl’s face that I don’t think I will ever be able to forget…

I gotta say, I liked Brothel’s Kitchen even more than I was expecting to. It’s charming, and cute, and fast-paced, and full of strange and illuminating details. There’s a disclaimer at the beginning that explains that “the events and conversations in this book have been set down to the best of the author’s ability,” and that “the author’s recollection of the past occurrences may deviate from those of others,” but there are so many parts of this book that seem like you couldn’t possibly have made them up. That realness is the heart and soul of Phillipa’s writing, and it makes this one hell of a page-turner.

 

Thanks so much to Phillipa Zosime for providing this book for me to review! This post was sponsored, which means that I was paid to write a fair and honest review of the book I was provided with. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.

3 Common Masturbation Problems (& How to Fix Them)

Kate Sloan

Sexual problems, while common, are too often cloaked in shame. Most people would rather visit website after website looking for answers to their burning sex questions than ask their doctor, or a friend, or a partner. I think that’s the main reason there are so many recurrent issues in the sexuality field that “sexperts” address over and over – the culture of shame and silence around sexuality leads people to believe they’re alone in their problems, and they’re a freak for struggling with sex or masturbation. It’s sad!

You are not broken or weird or a lost cause if you have sexual struggles. That’s a huge part of what I’ve sought to communicate on this website for all these years. To that end, here are 3 problems many people have with masturbation, and my suggestions for how to solve them. Good luck!

 

“I can’t orgasm!”

This seems to be a more common problem for folks with vulvas, although it can happen to anyone. Anorgasmia is the “persistent inability to achieve orgasm despite responding to sexual stimulation,” and it can be the result of a medical issue, a medication side effect (common with antidepressants, for example), or – perhaps most commonly – a psychological block of some kind. So my first recommendation would be that you ask your doctor about the problem so they can run some tests and look into it, and also that you research any medications you might be on to see whether this is a side effect you can expect from them. If so, you’ll need to weigh the pros and cons of being on that medication – I couldn’t deal with orgasm-quashing antidepressants, but I didn’t need them so badly that my life would be in danger without them, so YMMV!

Beyond that: especially if you’ve never orgasmed before, I think it’ll just take you some time and practice to figure out how to get there both physically and mentally. Physically, try a vibrator (a good one – it should have rumbly vibrations and a wide variety of speeds/modes to experiment with) or other sex toys that appeal to you. Explore body parts not commonly associated with orgasm, like the nipples, anus, or A-spot, when you’re already at a high level of arousal, because there’s a chance a non-standard form of stimulation may float your boat more than the usual go-to’s.

Mentally, keep reminding yourself that pleasure is about the journey, not the destination. Focus your masturbation sessions on making yourself feel as good as possible for as long as possible – not necessarily on orgasm. Cultivate a fantasy life, whether through watching porn, reading erotica, sexting with someone who turns you on, or just conjuring explicit thoughts from your own brain – some people just need more mental stimulation than others, and that’s okay! Be aware that you quite possibly may have already orgasmed without knowing it at some point. Read about the experiences of other anorgasmic people. Develop language for communicating to partners that a lack of orgasm doesn’t necessarily mean a lack of pleasure. Don’t give up hope, but also don’t put too much pressure on yourself – either you’ll get there one day or you won’t, and either way, your body is magical and beautiful and can experience good sensations.

 

“I can’t feel my genitals!”

I hear about this most often from cis male masturbators dealing with what’s called “death grip syndrome” – a state of desensitization resulting from the habitual friction of overzealous masturbation – but it can also be the product of strong vibrators, or of medical problems or medication issues as discussed above – so see your doctor if you can’t think of a behavior-based reason this might be happening to you. In most (non-medical) cases, your desensitization will go away after a few days of abstinence from whatever activities originally caused it.

If you want to reduce desensitization factors and amp up your sensitivity going forward, here are a bunch of suggestions: Use a good lube (no matter what kind of genitals you have) and reapply as needed. Use a looser grip on your penis, or switch to a stroker, Fleshlight, etc. so the tightness will be automatically lessened compared to your hand. Use a weaker vibrator, or a lower setting on the one you own, or put a layer or two of fabric between you and the toy, or press it less hard against your body. Try a sensitizing cream or oil containing ingredients like peppermint or cinnamon. Try a penis pump or clit pump before masturbation to (gently) encourage blood flow to the area for more engorgement and heightened sensitivity. Shave or trim your pubic hair to reduce friction and make your sensitive skin more accessible to stimulation. Spend longer on “foreplay” before ever touching your genitals.

 

“Sex doesn’t feel as good as masturbation!”

Most commonly, I hear this from folks with vulvas who masturbate clitorally and are then surprised and disappointed when penetrative sex doesn’t feel as good. Maybe you know this already, but here’s a reminder: the majority of vulva-possessing people need clitoral stimulation to reach orgasm, since that organ is as central to our sexual response as the penis is to people who have one (the two parts are analogous, meaning they form from the same embryonic tissue). So if your partnered sex contains little to no clit stimulation, that’s the first thing you should fix. Ask your partner to spend more time on oral sex, fingering, or whatever makes you feel good; show them how you like to masturbate, so they can try to replicate it; add clit stim to any penetrative sex you may be having, with your fingers, your partner’s fingers, or a vibrator.

If that’s not your issue but sex still isn’t as good as when you’re by yourself, consider the factors that you think are causing that, and address them. Does your partner not know how to touch you the way you like? If so, show them, and gently help them practice until they figure it out. Do you feel anxiety or stress around your partner that isn’t there when you’re alone? If so, interrogate that, perhaps with your partner, and figure out how to reduce it. (Weed and a blindfold are helpful for me, for example. Sometimes I ask my partner to wear a blindfold so I don’t have to worry about how I look.) Is your partnered sex missing an element of fantasy/mental titillation that you routinely give yourself when you’re alone? If so, watch your favorite porn or read your favorite erotica with your partner, or talk dirty to them about your favorite fantasy, or tell them what you’d like them to dirty-talk about. Basically, examine the conditions that make your solo sex so great, and plan some ways of bringing those elements into the bedroom with your partner!

 

What solutions have you found for these common masturbation problems?

 

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