Archive for July, 2007
Here’s some of the things you should probably include:
Characters: you & me? You & me and a third? You & your partner, written by me (could be a nice gift)? You & someone you’ve always wanted to fuck? [* Please do leave a description of the characters so I can write in at least a few details. Sending a photograph to me is another option.] Include the name you’d like your character(s) to have (especially if it’s different from your own).
Setting: the easiest for me might be my bedroom, because I know what it looks like. But other ideas include: your bedroom, a bar, club, beach, hiking trip, sex club, office, elevator … If you want it to be specific, be descriptive.
Plot: And what, pray tell, shall I do to you? Or what shall you do to me? Anything goes. If you’ve read some of my sex writing, you probably know what I like to do. You can, of course, leave it up to me, but the more specific you are, the more of a challenge it’ll be for me to write it, and the more likely I will be to pick your story to flesh out.
Let me know to what extent I can make your identity public, as well – I can use your pseudonym, I can link to your blog, I can use a completely unrelated name.
Also include any particular ideas about the prize – I’m still working out those details.
And I think that’s it! Any questions?
So, c’mon, inspire me, turn me on – bring it on!
I may be getting quite the boycrush on Joe My God … and rumor has it (ahem, he told me) he’s into butches.Now, you readers have been quite forgiving of me lately, considering I just slept with another top – I was fully expecting the comments about how I’m ‘not a real top’ to start coming. (And the femme top told me she did get some of those comments. I wonder if that’s a gender thing – a form of sexism. Mhm.) But what would you do if I decided to fuck a gay boy?
I probably wouldn’t. First, there’s the penis issue. Then, there’s the sweaty boy smell. Sorry to say it, but not only are those not turn-ons, they are explicit turn-offs. No offence, boys – it’s one of those physiological things.
Joe’s got some awesome radical politics, though, which I do find quite sexy. Ask him sometime about the much-needed collaboration between the queens and the butches, the dykes & the gays.
BDSM & Fetish Bombshell (The Big News) A Cock and a Smile Dreaming of suburban spankings Featured Fetish – Ropes (Shibari, Bondage, Ropework) Fooling around The Gain, pt. 4 – The Exchange How I Went To Prom And Soiled The Pretty Pretty Dress I Found In The 2007 ‘Cosmo Girl Prom’ Ms160 judges a Princess competition… My (Af)fair Lady Naughty webcam fun with Griz and good girl The Panty Controversy Party Girl Power Exchange (will I or won’t I?) San Francisco, part 6 Slutty sight Summer School When Daddy Gets Home Tonight
Sex Work Clients Say the Darndest Things
NSFW Pics, Videos & Audio The Best A Woman Can Get Chantelle Fontain Nude Gemma Atkinson Half-Nekkid and Supporting the Troops Keana Exhibitionist (Hegre Art) Last night More Lindsay Lohan Bikini Pictures Tuesday’s Tits for the Troops WebMistress Feature Gallery: Party Girl
Sex Advice Closed Due To Flooding?
Erotic Writing and Experiences After Midnight Cyberecstasy The Driving Urge Fantasy Forth! “Twin Celebration” First kiss In which sinclair gets off The Love of Sea Glass Palm Springs …. Friday Finale! Story: The Birthday Party Test Your Strength Watching you
And what is the contest, you ask?
Well. Ahem. It will be …
You, the readers, will enter the contest by giving me an erotica scenario that you would like for me to write
I will pick my top 5 scenarios – five finalists – from the submissions, and write all of them
Judges (probably you readers) will choose the best story out of the five finalists
The winner will be awarded something fabulous, to be determined primarily by geographic location. If you’re in the New York City area (or nearby), I would gladly take you out for dinner & drinks (and, of course, the possibility of acting out the scenario). If you’re in another part of the country, we may have to do some creative negotiation
Some fine print:
Anyone can apply, regardless of age, gender, sexual orientation, kink, geographic location … or any of those other things (ability, class, race – they seem to be less relevant to mention overtly, but still don’t matter).
The more explicit the scenario, the better for my writing. Photographs are welcomed, especially if you want the scene to be about you or someone specific.
You may be asking, why is she doing this? Primarily, I’ve realized recently that I write better erotica scenes when I have some sort of template, some sort of plot already played out, which is partly why writing about what actually happened is the easiest. Getting from A to B to C is easier when I know what A and B and C are. So really, this is primarily to ask you to be my muse for some (hopefully) good erotic writing.
This is also because the femme top I dated recently said I should really make tee shirts that said I was a Sugarbutch star, (and I actually may do that, and I owe her a big thank you for that idea), and we had some great conversations about a slut phase (it’s coming, I can feel it). I’m trying to stay inspired in my sex life and sex writing, and I thought this might just be the way to do it.
I’ll accept submissions for two weeks, until the end of July, and then pick my favorites. I will post a more elaborte how-to-apply tomorrow. Meanwhile, any questions?
I’ve been revising the links/lovers sidebar over there on the right hand side of this page this weekend. I’ve tried to include you readers who regularly comment, as well as the sexblogs that I read regularly.If you’re a regular reader, and I’ve missed your site, will you let me know?
Also, if you have any spectacular fantastic (preferably queer/lesbian) sex blogs to recommend, let me know that too. I haven’t had the time to surf lately that I used to (and I surf less & less sex blogs at work these days), so I’d love to hear what’s new out there.
Have I mentioned lately that you can subscribe to Sugarbutch via Feedburner? If you already have me on a RSS reader, please add this feed instead of the blogger feed.
we spent all weekend
digging clams at ocean shores
on the oregon coast
sand between our toes
you forgot to get dressed
I watched you belly-down
on the bed
staring at the TV so
I wanted to feel
the full fist of you again
staring out at the open ocean
I’m hiding from you in here
in this chair
I haven’t forgotten
the things you promised
to desire when the fire
went out, the beach
went dry, the waves
stopped coming and
I laid my open palms
on the table
took the metal pail
from the porch
with a trowel
Part one of three
I’d never been with a girl who identified as a top. All the girls I’ve slept with, while some of them were more toppy than others, have absolutely been on the submissive side – and that tends to be one of the things that draws me to them. I know how to read those signals. I know what the lowering of the eyes, looking up at me under her eyelashes, means.
I’ve been topped, don’t get me wrong. And generally, I like getting off, I like giving my body over to let someone else touch me, to guide them to what feels good, to let myself get to that moment of fully physically letting go.
I hear this is actually fairly rare, for a butch top. I don’t know what to tell ya about that. We’re all different, I suppose.
Point is, I’m not entirely unfamiliar with submission – but, at the same time, it is not my ‘default’ mode. It is not where I am most comfortable, these days, and it is not my impulse most times. But, as you probably remember from the few times I intentionally bottomed in my last relationship, it’s hard for me to do and, even, harder for me to write about.
So what was I going to do with this stunningly fucking hot femme top once we got to my bed?
This is what kept rattling around in my head as we took (sexy) public transportation back to my (ghetto) apartment.
I thought, it won’t make that much difference that I’m a top and she’s a top. It won’t change much between us. We probably won’t have a heavy SM scene, and that is what I tend to associate primarily with topping and bottoming – dominance, and submission.
But already, the making out at the bar was a little different. I wasn’t calling the shots. She was responding to me, yes, her lips changing mouth opening tongue teasing in accordance to mine, but there was something else underneath it. A force coming from her. The way she kept control of it all.
“Open your mouth,” she ordered, only barely pulled away from my lips, I could feel her breath moving against my mouth as she said the words. She kept her hands on my hips, my ribcage, positioning me where she wanted me. She sucked my tongue, hard. “Like your tiny cock,” she whispered into my ear, grinning. She bit my bottom lip, drew blood, leaving teeth marks inside that I continued touching with my tongue all night.
Most of the time, it made me want to take her all the more. Fight her for control, push her down and restrain her arms so she couldn’t restrain mine.
Sometimes, though, I sunk into the refuge of submission, the giving-over of my body and mouth and, later, cunt. I not only let her guide me through the kisses, I tried to ask her to. Tried to ask her with my body and gestures and movement and open mouth.
I spent the evening fighting my impulses, the ones to take control. Push her down on the bed and tilt her pelvis back to slide my hand inside. Instead, she flipped me onto my back (I stopped struggling), and said, “Do you have something you want me to fuck you with?”
I inhaled. Sharply. Caught off guard, not the first time that night. “Yes, I think … I do.” Damn. Submission stirred somewhere deep in me, my stomach, between my legs, and I wanted her to take me like that, wanted to feel full, feel splayed open, feel cradled. It made me feel exposed and vulnerable, but I trusted her with my body in a way that felt new, considering I barely knew her. Maybe that’s why it was safe. Maybe it was because of the way she knew how to touch me, knew how to unwrap my breasts, finger the back of my neck, press against my thigh, just how I like it.
And I was suddenly grateful she knew how to take control, I was feeling fuzzy-headed and uncertain around her. Was that the submission? Could be. I certainly don’t usually feel that way when I’m in charge. I got my pink cock out, wrestled in the toybox to find an unlubed condom. I’d never been fucked with it.
She eased back on top of me, hips against mine, legs scissored together. Hands on my hips, my inner thigh, my breasts. Squeezing hard, sometimes painfully. I loved it. Brought me to the edge of my body and made me cry out, made everything sensitive, made everything feel. I attempted to keep quiet.
Her kisses made my vision and the palms of my hands blurry and taut. It was hard not to press her shoulders to the bed and ease my thighs between hers, press her knees apart. Tear at her hair. But there was also such sweetness, such precision, such tenderness between us – I wanted that, too, but I wanted more, I wanted to feel her pressing me open from inside, I wanted my cock in her mouth, I wanted, wanted, wanted.
Desire rose and fell on an isotope slope, gripping me fiercely. She knew just how to pull want from this body of mine. After a particularly efficacious kiss, I spiraled, eyes rolling, hips bucking. I couldn’t stop thinking about how it would feel to be opened by her.
“Fuck me,” I whispered, as she held herself above me, inches away, “please.”
Her eyes flashed and she grinned. Held my gaze, my open face, steady for a moment. “Can I go down on you?”
“Oh, god yes,” I breathed out. Please do, yes, god yes, echoed in my head, and though she may have liked it I’d (further) begged, I was glad I didn’t say it. It was hard enough for me to ask for it once.
How did she know so well what I like? … It occurs to me now that she’s read, among other things, the extensive sex survey/interview of myself, and there is a lot – quite a lot – of personal preferences listed there. I should send that to all my lovers before we fuck. (Just kidding.)
The inside of my bottom lip is still swollen and a bit tender where she bit hard. And I’m bursting to write about it. Instead, perhaps I’ll write about something else: kissing & telling.
I’ve been thinking about it: I don’t really know what the rules are. I only know that, on occasion, the chivalrous guys in films or in literature say things like, “I don’t kiss and tell.” This seems to be one of those straight social dating conventions that I have somehow never really understood, like the waiting-to-call after a date, the I’m-not-interested games, etc. (Living with my straight sister has brought all sorts of new social dating conventions into my life. Actually, I’ve never lived with a straight girl before, and the only straight boy I lived with, I was dating at the time. Since then I’ve only ever had queer roommates. Interesting …)
This kiss-and-tell thing seems to be for straight men more than anything else. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen straight women (I’m racking through the Sex and the City archive in my brain – surely, if straight women do that, it was depicted in that show) talk about kissing and telling, and there’s little hesitation to talk about how the kissing was, or even how the sex was, between women. And, do we see this as rude, when women talk about sex? No – at least I don’t – I see it as HOT.
When men talk about the sex they had, though, I do sometimes see it as rude, because of the way it is depicted. It’s different to see a guy sit down with his friends and say, “Wow, I had a fabulous date on Friday, and we ended up going home together – gosh, she was so great in bed,” than, if he said, for example, “Dude I totally hit that, she was beggin’ for more,” (which is not the best example, but you get the point).
So that means, for me, it’s actually about the respect given to the people these folks are sleeping with. I imagine I could hear women – straight or gay or queer or whatever – talking about a sexual escapade and be totally offended by the rude, lewd, lack of respect, more than who is actually doing the talking.
Even so: it is so much more common to hear (straight) men speaking inappropriately about their sexual conquests, probably (ya think?) because of the sexism in this culture, not only the treating-women-poorly thing but also the notion that women aren’t inherently sexual creatures, that we are either/or mothers or whores. There’s also that machismo guise within masculinity that says that you’re a “real man” if you conquer women.
Well so, it would make sense, then, for “I don’t kiss and tell” to evolve out of that type of culture, as a social convention to keep the lewd sexual misogyny in check.
So how does it apply to women, if at all? And how does it apply to lesbians?
I mean, to a certain extent it is incredibly tacky to talk about your sexcapades with your friends. For example, if you start sleeping with your best friend’s ex, you probably shouldn’t go into details about how you fucked her up the ass with a strap-on last night. And if you happen to be dating your buddy’s sister, he probably won’t want to know how she likes to be roughed up a bit.
But aside from disclosing the sexual details of people your friends actually know (which, it seems, shouldn’t be disclosed primarily because it’s private information. Which is interesting, that some things are more private because a friendship exists, rather than keeping a stranger’s details private, which isn’t as important), how much is it okay to talk about sex?
I like sex. Not that I expect that to be a surprise to you, but I love talking about it. I love hearing about what other people think and do, because hey, I just may learn something – not only about my friend, and what they like (and that can sometimes be incredibly deep held beliefs, psychological complications relating to other aspects of their personality, which can be fascating) but I also might discover more about what I like. Or I might understand something in a new way, I might “get” a fetish or sex act in a way I never understood before.
Also? It is oh so important to be open and honest about what’s going on in our sex lives, I think, because a lot of strange damage can be done there. A lot of healing can be done, too – but it’s similar to the reason why I believe we should talk about our relationships, in depth and often, with our close friends. Our friends (one would hope & assume) watch out for our best interest, and if something strange is happening, if red flags are going up and up and up, hopefully our friends will be able to tell us those things. Our relationships should be socially monitored. And, perhaps, so should our sex lives, to a certain degree.
So. Back to kissing & telling. I think that means, for me, I believe in talking about my sex life.
Not that you’re surprised, I know. I’ve been writing about it here – explicitly – for more than a year. But I’ve never quite gone all the way into the kiss & tell argument, so I’m glad to now know where I stand, and why.
But I’m still not going to tell you what happened Saturday night.
(At least, not until she gives me permission.)