What’s On My Mind

You in stockings and a garter, pussy bare, black bra, your lips and eyes darkened. Heels strapped around your ankles that I take off, or maybe not. Black and red silk ropes around your thighs, under your knees, around your ankles, around your wrists. Smooth ropes on the smooth stockings and I love the texture, run my hands all over you. I slip a blindfold over your eyes and kiss you. Smear the lipstick across your cheek and lips. You get still and quiet, waiting.

Your fist in me deep. Hard. The look on your face when you’re between my legs, that awe and desperate look I know I get too. Sweating. My hand on my clit, hard, rubbing hard, getting close until I grab you by the hair and push your mouth down on it, yeah, like that, suck it, don’t slow down, fuck me, until I’m hard and bursting in your mouth and I lift you by the hair again, take my clit in my fingers again to come, hard, around your fist. I wish I could squirt as easily as you do, I would, I would come in your mouth and watch you swallow it.

Your new thigh high boots, your little black dress. I’d like you in an alley, maybe, a dirty one, street-lamp lit and bricked and you’re nervous about the dinginess but you want me, you trust me. I push you up against a wall, slam your shoulders back, bite your neck, suck your tongue. You’re wearing fencenets between your boots and the tight hem of your dress but nothing underneath; I get my fingers between the wide holes and into your tight one, and hold you there, until your knees buckle and your fencenets rip.

You coming in my mouth again. Last time your knees on either side of my head, dipping your pussy into my mouth while I licked and sucked, tongued your hole as deep as I could. “You want to do it?” “Yes.” Your fingers on your clit and I held your hips (how you like it) and watched you squirt all over my face, dripping down my chin and cheeks, into my ears, and I laughed, mouth filled.

Blindfolded, on your hands and knees, mouth stretched open, pussy, ass, holes stretched open farther than you thought they could go and you like it, you like being filled like this, you like taking me in. A gag maybe. Breathing tight around the edges. Touching your smooth skin in easy strokes and thrusting inside you, my mouth by your ear: no, don’t come yet, don’t come yet, let me do it first, don’t do it baby, just take it.

My hips are heavy this morning and I remember the weight and swing of my longest cock between my legs, the swagger of it, the thrill of filling it, the thrill of filling you, that squeeze and tightening and then the ease when we work into our rhythm and press, thrust, push against each other.

I’m biting at my lips, remembering yours, remembering the way you kissed me when I got off in bed earlier this week, we’d woken early to fuck but I hadn’t gotten off, pulled out and rolled beside you, annoyed. “What’s wrong?” “Frustrated. I want to … ” “I know.” So I did it, put my hands on me, slid my cock off and held you tight to me, wanted your body next to mine, the way you kiss me when I am not in charge of the kiss. That mouth of yours.

I am tempted to get out the little digital video camera and set it up in the corner to make a record of how we fuck. Would we be too self-conscious? Would we get into it like we usually do? Would we be loud enough to hear on the recording? I could tell you louder. Louder. Say that again. Say it louder. Say fuck me. Say fuck me, Daddy. Say I want your cock. Say fuck my little pussy. Say it. Say it. Take it. My sweet girl, my lovely little girl, my darling. What would we capture? What would we look like? Will we look back at this in ten years, wonder how we were ever that young, that in love, that passionate? Or will we look like amateurs compared to whatever we’d be doing then? I want to find out.

Follow-up: I’d Like To Fuck Her Ass

Okay, some clarifications:

1) Kristen has made it very clear that she’s game to try anal sex, from the beginning, from the very first conversation. That the idea intrigues her, even. She’s very GGG in bed, and if she expressed that she wasn’t so into something (and there have been things she has said she’s not so into), I’d drop it. I’d never push her to do something she didn’t want to do.

2) We talked about this before and after this post went up, and she was a bit concerned I hadn’t made it clear that she was into it. And, I don’t think I did. Is this clear yet? She has expressed an interest in trying it. But even with both of our expressed interest, we still haven’t quite done it, and I’m not sure why exactly. I thought we’d talked about it various times in depth, but given this post, and the many reader comments, I am realizing we really haven’t delved into it very deeply. I also think my own nervousness is a factor, and the ways that having sex focused on me is really hard for me, which is, ultimately, the main point of this post. Yes, I couched it in other things, because it’s hard to have attention on me, my needs, and my shortcomings. I guess that worked a little too well.

3) Asking for reader contribution here was for two reasons, but NOT as an attempt to convince Kristen that it was a good idea. Not for peer pressure, absolutely not. Not for me to be able to point to and say, “See! Comment #4 says it hurts, but eventually you like it! Just try it!” Hello, no, I don’t do that. The purpose of asking for reader comments was because a) sometimes Kristen feels – and I do too! – very validated seeing her own trepidations and hesitations shared by other people, and I thought that perhaps if someone expressed their own experience with it in a way she identified with, we’d have some starting points to discuss the parts of it that were making her – or both of us – nervous, and b) because I like it when readers express their own experiences. I love encouraging that to happen in the comments on this site, I love reading about it, I love how some people that I know well will write a thesis on a particular topic and share their knowledge and write about their story, sometimes things that they haven’t (or won’t) share on their own blog even. One of my favorite posts lately was the “share some sex thing you’ve done / you wish you’d done / you want to do this summer,” because whoa, I have some kinky readers. Y’all are awesome. Asking you for advice is a big big way to encourage those personal stories of experience, so that is what I did.

4) The comment that said “focus more on her pleasure and less on your cock.” You’re a bit misguided. For one, she is into it. For two, I always, always am focused on her pleasure. I know I have been writing less and less about our personal sex life here, and that’s for lots of reasons, the most of which is that my 9-to-5 job is ending and I don’t have access to my site at work anymore, which means I have a lot less time to work on it. But our sex life continues to be fucking awesome, and I wish I was writing up a story every time. As uh, everybody knows, I am very cock-centric, but that does not mean I am not focused on Kristen’s pleasure – or the pleasure of any girl with which I am sleeping. In fact, I am SO focused on their pleasure, most of the time, that I often bypass my own. This is actually a problem, which is the real point I tried to make in this post, but I think it got buried beneath the anal-anal-anal-make-Kristen-try-anal part that seems to have distracted everyone. And, the point is, there is no shortage whatsoever on Kristen’s pleasure. I guess you’ll just have to take my word for that, unless she wants to jump in and write a guest post, but the girl is spoiled in bed, and she gets what she wants. She doesn’t have to ask for anything twice, any toy she wants I either have or can get for her, and I pay a lot of attention to her detailed reactions and responses, and often can tell if something is uncomfortable before she expresses anything. The issue here is not her pleasure at all: it’s mine. That’s what needs some work, in this relationship, and in my relationships in general.

Cal For Submissions: Headcase

HEADCASE: Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, And Queer (LGBTQ) Writers and Artists on Mental Illness Edited by Teresa Theophano, LMSW

Headcase will be an anthology comprised of 15-20 nonfiction pieces by writers and artists both established and new, exploring the theme of mental health, mental illness, and mental health care in the lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer or questioning (LGBTQ) community. The book is currently being considered for publication by a major queer press.

The anthology seeks essays, poetry, and comics by queer consumers of mental health services or queer individuals who have been diagnosed, but do not identify as patients, with mental illness. Works should explore the intersection of queerness and mental health and can include topics such as psychotropics; Gender Identity Disorder and its acceptance or rejection as a legitimate mental disorder; conventional v. holistic treatment; experiences in therapy, groups, and/or institutions; how race and ethnicity, class, sex, gender identity, age, and disability impact access to treatment; addiction, self-medicating, and recovery.

Modest compensation provided upon publication to contributors whose pieces are chosen.

Guidelines:

* Pieces should be between 750 and 1500 words (approximately 3 to 5 double-spaced pages).

* While the deadline for a 2010 publication date has not yet been established, submitting your piece by December 1, 2009 is recommended. Descriptions of pieces in progress are also welcome.

* Submissions should be sent as a Microsoft Word document, double-spaced, 12 pt. font, Times New Roman font.

* Please provide a brief (100 words or less) bio with your submission

Teresa Theophano is a licensed social worker, out queer mental health consumer, and the author of Queer Quotes (Beacon Press, 2004).

Please send submissions/project descriptions to her at headcase_anthology (at) yahoo.com

Glee: Single Ladies (Video)

I admit, I haven’t seen a minute of the new TV show Glee yet. Seems like lots of folks are abuzz about it, and I am a big fan of Jane Lynch, so I figured I’d check it out eventually. I don’t have TV so I try not to be watching more than one or two series at a time, otherwise I’d just spend all my time doing that … and we all know I just finished My So-Called Life, and I’m working my way through The Wire (season 4 now), and there’s True Blood (though I hate the sexualized violence), and Mad Men, and Californication, and I haven’t quite finished Battlestar Galactica …

I ran across this clip from Glee tonight, and I’m thinking I should really move it up on the list.

There is something about the masculinity in this whole thing that makes me just … thrilled. I’m not sure I’ve put my finger on it yet, but I love it. It doesn’t hurt that I love that Beyonce video either – I mean who doesn’t? It’s one of those songs you just can’t help but sing along to, except with this one it’s dance along to it. I find myself flipping my hand and doing the I’m-a-little-teapot move without even realizing it.

Plus, I associate it with the first time I heard it, which was in the back of Jesse James’s car, with Violet, on our way to an amazing dinner, with Jesse singing along and knowing all the words and shaking her ring finger at Violet. (That was also the moment we both realized Beyonce might be the new Cher. I kept expecting her to make an appearance on Cherday, but not yet. So I guess this will do instead!)

I’d Like To Fuck Her Ass

Since we got together about nine months ago, Kristen and I have kept a verbal running list of Sex Stuff To Explore (okay, not always verbal, we have a shared Google doc, too).

Up pretty high on my list, and one thing that I have mentioned quite a few times, is that I’d like to fuck her ass.

I’ve never actually strapped on and fucked a girl up the ass (how come it’s up the ass but in the pussy? Does one say “up the pussy”? No, that’s awkward. Weird). (I have actually fucked a guy that way, but perhaps that’s different. Or perhaps that’s too much for a lesbian sex blogger to disclose in parenthesis without going farther in depth. Carry on.) I want to. The idea is really hot. I don’t know why exactly – not that the why matters terribly, but perhaps if I could articulate it better she’d be more inclined to try it. Maybe because it’s taboo, maybe because it’s tight and I expect the sensation to be a little different, maybe because I have fantasies of sharing her with another butch (or two) as we all fill her and use her, so she needs the practice. Maybe because DP feels good. Maybe because I know it changes and enhances my own orgasms. Maybe because I know it makes her nervous.

I guess the real hangup is that it makes me a bit nervous too. I don’t have trouble pushing her to do things I want that are things I’ve done in the past, even when she’s nervous, but for some reason we still haven’t done much ass play. Sure, a finger here and there, a small butt plug a few times – but I want it to be my cock, and I want to be wearing it.

I’ll admit, too, that since I started keeping a tumblr log and going through my dashboard as another daily inbox, I’ve thought about it more often. There is no shortage of cock-in-ass shots on that site, the sights of which makes my own imagined cock strain against my slacks every time.

Sidenote: why the fascination with girls assholes, guys? Same reasons for mine, I imagine …

Kristen mention Tristan Taormino’s book The Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex For Women the other day, asking if I had it. I don’t. I may attempt to hunt down a copy though, and maybe a DVD or two of hers too. She does, after all, have a butt plug named after her.

I may be getting a Fun Wand from Babeland in the near future (crossing my fingers), which I think will be great to play with. I’m tempted by the Njoy Plug also – I have the Pfun Plug, perhaps I should get that out. (I am a bit obsessed with these stainless steel Njoy toys these days, thanks to my Pure Wand.) I have plenty of other butt toys, though – goodness knows I have no shortage of toys. Slim cocks I anticipate working up to, butt plugs in small-medium-large, thicker, wetter lubes. No problem.

Something still makes me a little nervous, though. It isn’t the shit part, at least not for me – I don’t particularly like it, but it is just part of the reality of things up the ass, and whatever, things happen that are sometimes awkward. I can deal. I know how to clean it up, know how to prep with towels nearby and condoms and wipes and whatever other supplies. I’m not sure what Kristen’s hesitations are exactly – inexperience? pain? shit? – but perhaps it’s time to ask her again.

Fucking up the ass strapped on seems like something that is done for her pleasure, not mine. It’s her body that has to get used to some new invasion, some new and violating way of being taken. The top in me – and the use of a dick with no nerve endings – makes me hesitant to pressure something that is all about her.

But then again: this is a frequent topic for our sex life, actually, and a place in which we have some snags. Nothing big; a few tiny things. We have a complex power dynamic (aren’t they all) in that while I am a top, I am sometimes more of a “service top,” doing things to my bottom because I know she wants them, I know how she likes it, I know what she wants. (I could say much more about this – it is, in fact, the reason the Sugarbutch Star stories were born, and often the way I write smut too. That feels like a tangent, I’ll cut myself off.) Sometimes, as you can imagine, this extends out to me being so focused and attentive to her needs and reactions that I ignore my own. I think this is why (at least sometimes) I have trouble getting off. Likewise, it is challenging sometimes for Kristen to contain, to hold – not to let in or open, those are a bit different (I have an article on these concepts in the works) – and we’d both like her to be better at it. Playing with that concept sexually would be a good way to do so, we’ve discussed this, since it is one place where I can practice being completely focused on me with disregard to her feelings, and where she likes being submissive and bottoming to that kind of degrading, using power energy.

But why have I not connected this with fucking her up the ass before? I want to; I am hesitant because I feel like it’s “for her pleasure” and not for mine. But it is for mine, maybe not physically, but in other ways. Obviously! Weird to think I still have a small hangup there. This particular act it is a great symbol of this issue of me taking, selfishly, something for me and not necessarily for her (with, hopefully, the side effect of her liking it). I have pages more to say about this issue, really; I feel like I’m only scratching the surface, but perhaps I’ve written around it enough in the past that you know what I’m talking about.

Kristen, baby, that means you’re going to give me that sweet ass of yours, and soon. You’ll do that for me, right? I thought so.

Folks, Kristen reads the comments – leave some support, wouldja? Tell her being fucked up the ass is not that scary. Tell her it is hard at first but you get used to it. Tell her why you LOVE it, tell her why it’s fun and hot, tell her it makes your orgasms better, tell her your story of when you first tried it. Tell her it’s worth the work. Tell her your story of learning and practicing ass fucking. Lend her some support. Share some resources.

You know I’ll certainly appreciate it.

SweLL featuring Anna Camilleri, Ivan E Coyote, & Lyndell Montgomery

Two of my favorite butches on the planet – and the fabulous addition of femme Anna Camilleri – have collaborated in a queer performance collective. This clip from earlier this year is fucking rad.

SweLL featuring Anna Camilleri, Ivan E Coyote, & Lyndell Montgomery

SWELL—the new incarnation of Taste This, notorious Vancouver-based queer performance collective. In 1994, four young East Vancouver artists—Ivan E. Coyote, Anna Camilleri, Lyndell Montgomery, and Zoë T. Eakle—came together to conduct an experiment. All four had been performing solo on small stages, and they wanted more than a ten-minute spot sandwiched between the fire breather and the sound poet. They founded queer performance troupe Taste This, and premiered their first full-length project at the Edison Electric Gallery. 100+ people were turned away at the door. Artistically emboldened by the response, they took the show on the road to Seattle, Portland, and San Francisco, and then continued to create and tour a total of four stage works in Canada and the US, until disbanding in 2000. Notably, Taste This released Boys Like Her: Transfictions (Press Gang Publishers, 1998) to critical and public acclaim, including a 1999 Book of the Year Award from Forward Magazine, an American Library of Congress Award nomination, a Community Service Award for Achievement in the Arts by Xtra West, and in 2008, Boys Like Her was included in the Queer Canadian Literature Collection at the University of Toronto. With over a decade of artistic experience to their individual credit, Camilleri, Coyote, and Montgomery recently started talking about resurrecting the kind of magical collaboration that Taste This was. A lot has changed, but the issues that the early collective inhabited are still relevant in the contemporary artistic and political landscape. Questions of gender, class, sexuality, rural versus city life, and family dynamics continue to attract the attentions of the three artists. For the premiere of “So The Story Goes”—an original, full-length inter-discipline performance work—they’ll be joined by acclaimed artist Leslie Peters.

– Swiped from myspace.com/swetlltastethis

New Email Address

Hey, everybody! Listen up, ’cause I don’t want to say this over & over. I have a new email address: mr.sexsmith(at)gmail.com. Please update your email address books accordingly!

You know how on some blogs, they have their gmail address displayed as an image (that appears to be google-generated, with the google colors) so as to divert spammers? I would like to do that here, but I can’t figure out where it comes from, and I can’t find a blog as an example or I’d ask them. I just know I’ve run into it in my surfings. If you know what I’m talking about, will you get in touch? Merci.

Define: Sovereignty

A few weeks ago, Miss Calico tweeted about the craziest thing in her feedreader. For obvious reasons, neither she nor I would call most of the sex stuff that I’m sure we both read on a daily basis “crazy,” so what does that leave really? LOLcats? Perez Hilton?

Well … one of my indulgences, which I’ve mentioned before, is that little stepchild genre of self-help (which I stand by is a combination of spirituality, psychology, and philosophy, some of my favorite topics), and there are of course an abundance of blogs writing on those kinds of subjects. Most of them never stick around in my reader for more than a few weeks. I get bored, I get the idea, I move on.

A recent addition to my little indulgence via RSS has been The Fluent Self by Havi Brooks. The Fluent Self might be the “craziest thing” in my reader. I mean, she co-owns her company with her duck, Selma, and often talks about being the pirate queen of her pirate crew. So you have to be the kind of person who appreciates someone else’s slightly wacky reality in order to connect with what she’s doing.

Havi mentioned “sovereignty” in an entry the other day, and then again today, and it’s so relevant to my emotional work, I’ve got to write on it for a while.

Sovereignty […] is the quality of owning your space. It’s feeling so safe being you, that you can’t be shaken from yourself. […]

Your most important job? Take care of yourself. Because when I’m looking out for my physical and emotional well-being, I can do my best work. And when I’m depleted and exhausted, it sucks for everyone. My external systems — just like my internal practices — keep me grounded so that I can keep working on the sovereignty thing. It all comes back to taking care of yourself. And safety. And finding ways to access that canopy of peace.

Sovereignty cassarole. And more about shoes. By Havi Brooks on The Fluent Self

I love discovering words to explain emotional states that I’m working on. If there’s a word for it, it feels like it’s a real thing, like it’s a little button I can push to dispense that particular kind of strength or flexibility or whatever that I’m working on. I mentioned “grace” recently, too, and the new definition of that word that I came across (also in a self-help book). If I’m having a strong reaction to something, having the shorthand of “have some sovereignty here” or “just need a little grace, a little grace, a little grace,” is really helpful. It’s the ability to take a whole big giant concept and distill it into a single word, which makes the mantra easier to grasp in moments of need.

This state of sovereignty is one I’ve been working on extensively. I don’t know why exactly (though I have some guesses), but for whatever reason, I have been really prone to giving that up – to letting others make choices for me, to allowing myself to be imprinted upon, to be taken over. I didn’t know I was doing this. If you asked me five years ago, I would have probably said I had no idea what you were talking about and of course I don’t do that. But, sigh, that’s what Saturn Return is for, after all.

Later, Havi writes, one of the things that helps stay in this state of sovereignty is to know your triggers. “For me and my HSP self, it’s loudness that sets me off.” She’s mentioned this before lately, as she’s currently battling jackhammers, and I was thinking about this just the other day. I went with Kristen and my sister to a taping of The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, and they were having some technical difficulties, so it was more of a wait than usual, and they had the music completely cranked up so loud I could barely hear Kristen sitting next to me, and I started to panic a little. I wanted to leave. Suddenly I felt so claustrophobic and anxious and like I would rather be anywhere else. This feeling calmed down and left as soon as they turned it off – but it just got me thinking, and made me remember, that when my senses are assaulted, I don’t deal well. There are times when it’s okay, I guess, I like going dancing in clubs, I like concerts (though not all concerts – ask me about the AC/DC story sometime). My senses are just so often under assult here in New York City, it’s hard for me not to have that panicked assaulted feeling constantly. Earphones help. Books help. Using my commute and transportation as a meditation helps. I guess I just have to keep building in self-care around this overload of the senses, and try to get some systems – internal and external – in place to keep myself grounded and unshaken – in sovereignty.

“Is it a trans characteristic to wear a cock?”: Cock-centricity and Gender Identity

Back in April, for Sugarbutch’s third anniversary, I offered up an “ask me anything” thread where readers could ask any burning questions that they’d like for me to answer.

is it a transgender characteristic to wear a cock (with anatomically accurate balls) and feel more complete or like yourself when you are a biological female? you self ID with a lot of labels, but trans isn’t one of them. have you explored this idea? – reader

There’s two parts of this question I’d like to explore: first, my personal identity, and my relationship to “trans”; second, gender’s relationship to cocks, and my personal thoughts on that, too.

I do identify with the term “trans,” to some degree. That’s complicated, because I am not transitioning, and I do not identify as male. I feel strongly that it’s important for me to be female, a woman, lesbian-identified, and to behave and look the way I do (i.e., masculine). But insofar as people with my biological sex most often have a feminine gender presentation (setting aside the societal compulsory prescription of the feminine gender presentation), and I do not, I feel as though I am transgressing gender boundaries by my claim to masculinity and by presenting in a way that is seemingly in conflict with the (societally prescribed) sex/gender assumption. I – me personally, my identity, my work, my discussions – defy rigid, polarizing gender norms, and queer gender. I believe in taking this and that from any sorts of presentations around us and re-creating onesself in ways that make us feel good, empowered, strong, sexy, expressive, and authentic. I think we can all transcend our prescribed roles – no matter what they are, gender or familial or societal – and become ourselves in larger ways.

I don’t usually include “trans” in my list of identity descriptors. When I refer to myself as trans, it’s usually very couched in other things, like “my particular kind of genderqueer masculine-identified trans-ness.” I guess I feel like my use of trans and my inclusion in the trans communities is a bit controversial, as there are plenty of people who will jump (and have jumped) in to correct my use of this term, saying that my use of it invalidates the experiences of “real” trans people who are FTM or MTF and who are transsexual, transitioning fully from one gender to another.

So I tend to claim butch, whole-heartedly and fairly simply, really, and leave it at that. Because that’s what I am (right now, anyway, not that I anticipate that changing, but who knows, it could), and though I do think that the identity of butch includes a sort of trans-ness or a genderqueer-ness of occupying more than one gendered space at once, ‘butch’ accurately describes me much better than the term trans.

Now: about cocks.

Specifically, about cocks with anatomically accurate balls, about realistic cocks, about flesh-colored cocks and really feeling it and claiming it as MY cock, about having a cock as someone whose body doesn’t quite have one, not in the same way that other bodies have one.

I want to disrupt this idea that cocks specifically and penetration in general is a male, masculine, or man’s trait. I mean I get it: when considering human genitalia, the man is the one with the penis, the woman is the one with the vulva. But men have holes that feel good when penetrated, too, and women have fingers and tongues and sometimes clits big enough to penetrate, and a long history of dildoes, and then of course there’s the strap on cock, for when we really want to feel what it’s like to swing from the hips.

I was at a sex blogger tea party here in New York City maybe two years ago, discussing cock-centricty, when I believe Chris of Carnal Nation said (something like): “I know I’m a guy and all, but I’m not as cock-centric as you are. When I fuck, it’s with my hands, or my mouth. I don’t identify with it the same way you do, and it’s not my central sex act.”

This seems like a rather rare perspective for cis men, especially given that our entire (American, white, dominant) sexual culture is pretty much built around penises and penetration and the male erection, etc, but I think it’s more common than we’d expect.

Likewise, I have known some femmes who have been some of the most cock-centric people I’ve ever met. They drive a mean strap-on, as they say. And I’ve known some butches and trans men who are not cock-centric at all, despite that it would seemingly align with their masculine gender to be so.

Maybe this perspective of mine is also partly as a result of coming out as queer into a lesbian community which questioned cocks constantly. I have absolutely heard girls say, “If I wanted to get fucked with a cock, I’d date a man!” (Who I, duh, didn’t sleep with. More than once.) So coming to my own desire for using a cock and my own cock-centricty, while at the same time coming to a butch identity though not transitioning to male, I claimed cocks as a certain sex act that I separated from any particular identity.

Because anything two lesbians do in bed is lesbian by nature of the definition, no matter what act it is.

Unless, you know, it’s not – I certainly don’t want to devalue the experience of being in lesbian relationships and doing a whole lot of cock-centric activities, and for one of them to later come to a male identity. Perhaps for folks who go through that, the act was not exclusively lesbian, but was also male in a way. My point is, I want to squelch the fear that lesbians can’t use cocks in their sex play because it’s “not lesbian.”

That is not to say that strapping on or identifying with a cock is genderless. It interrelates to gender identity, presentation, and celebration – but which ways it interrelates depends on the individual. For me, it absolutely plays on my gender fetish and the way I see myself as embodying a masculine gender, and I LOVE to play with that during sex (as, uh, the entire Internet knows). And femmes who strap on cocks and play with them have told me that they see cocks as part of their gender, too – that part of the turn-on awesomeness of the whole experience is that it supposedly misaligns with their gender, that their sparkly pink harness and dick is all the more sexy to them because it’s femme.

I suppose there are a few kinds of cock-centricty, right – because I’d say Kristin is fairly cock-centric, but she isn’t into wearing one and fucking with one the way I am. For the most part I’m referring to folks who want to be the wearers here, who identify with it as a part of them.

If you’re cock-centric, you’re cock-centric; I don’t think that necessarily should dictate your gender identity. Cock-centricity is not necessarily a masculine or male trait. Gender identity may be totally related, somewhat related, or not related at all – I think that just depends. For me, the interplay of gender and my cock is important, and I love the way it feels to use it, the way I feel when I’m packing, the way it feels to get off while fucking with a cock, the turn-on of dirty talking about my hard dick, the ways it drives me wild to get a blow job. It is part of my masculine sexuality, but I have many other parts of masculinity that are not necessarily sexual, and I’ve explored the line between butch and trans enough that, for now, I know I’m pretty firm where I’m at. I still struggle with some descriptors like “girl,” “woman,” and “daughter,” but the other options of “son,” “man,” and “boy,” don’t fit either. So, for now, I’m sticking with butch.

I’d love to hear what some cock-centric (or non-cock-centric) gay boys have to say about this, I’m not sure how it translates (though I have some guesses). I will have to ask around.

“I feel kind of … honored.”

All the episodes of the 1994 short-lived one-season series My So-Called Life are on Hulu.com, and I spent the last few weeks watching through them in my down time. I’m the same age as Angela Chase (and nine days older than Claire Danes) and now that I’ve watched it again I remember the show vividly. I wasn’t sure I’d remember it, but it turns out there are some episodes I can practically recite by heart. Like Pressure and all those scenes in the boiler room? “The whole world is separated into kissing … and not kissing … kissing … and not kissing.” “My lips feel used, but, like, in a good way.”

I miss these characters now that I watched through the 19 episodes. I have lots to say about the parental relationship, Graham’s masculinity, the character arcs and some of the slightly more experimental attempts at episodes, the infamous lean by Jordan Catalano (“you’re so beautiful, it hurts to look at you”), Jordan’s masculinity … oh there’s so much.

But what I want to write on here, real quick, is Ricky, and his finale.

If you haven’t seen it, revealing that Ricky is gay is not giving anything away. You’ll know from the first episode. The other characters know, too, but they never say it directly. Sometimes they say Ricky likes boys, sometimes Ricky confesses a crush, but he never comes right out and says it. There’s some talk of Ricky being put up at Pride House after he is kicked out of his house (presumably because of his sexuality) by his aunt and uncle, who raised him. But he never comes out and says it.

Until the very last episode, in this exchange with Delia, a straight girl. Earlier in the episode, it goes through the grapevine that Delia has a crush on Ricky, eventually getting back to him. He says (I’m paraphrasing), what if this is my chance? What if this is my chance to be normal? What if this is my chance to have a normal life? And he decides to ask her out.

The embedded video is below. I couldn’t get a clip of just the one part, sorry. I do urge you to watch the series from the beginning – if you watch this whole clip it’ll give some things away! This is the last episode, after all.

This clip starts at 34:58.

Ricky: Delia? Um, maybe we should um, go somewhere sometime.
Delia: Okay.
Ricky: You know like, to a movie, or something.
Delia: I’d like that.
Ricky: Because um, I really think we’d be … good together.
Delia: Okay … but, you’re gay, right?
Ricky: Well, you know, I …
Delia: Oh I’m sorry!
Ricky: No, it’s okay.
Delia: That came out so rude.
Ricky: I try not to um … I don’t like uh … yeah, I’m gay. I just don’t usually say it like that.
Delia: How do you usually say it?
Ricky: I don’t usually say it. I’ve actually never said it, out loud.
Delia: Wow. I feel kind of honored.

I’m pretty sure I actually teared up and said awwwwww! to my computer screen, because, come on, that is such an awesome way to have dealt with this moment. Ricky struggles so much with fitting in, with feeling like he belongs, with finding somewhere that he’s accepted, and his struggles just kept breaking my heart over and over. And I just love how this was done. So much acceptance, so much care.

Is it too late to start a “Bring Back My So-Called Life” internet campaign? I mean it’s possible, with the power of social networking these days! They made a movie after Firefly!

Free Copy of Ivan Coyote’s book Loose End

looseendIvan E. Coyote, Top Hot Butches Number Six and amazing storyteller, writer, and performer, has a new book out this year from Arsenal Pulp Press called The Slow Fix. I just picked it up when Kristen and I were in Philadelphia about a month ago at Giovanni’s Room, which, by the way, was one of the most amazing queer bookstores I’ve ever been in. Such a wonderful collection of books there, I could’ve bought twenty – I settled on three.

And, I just heard from Arsenal Pulp Press that they’ve got a promotion going on through September 30th – “FREE Ivan E. Coyote Book, Loose End, and with this download, you are also entitled to a SPECIAL 25% DISCOUNT off the purchase of any or all of Ivan’s books, SIGNED BY THE AUTHOR.

I think I have all of them, but I might be missing one. I’ll have to double check. Hmm, maybe this is a good holiday gift – who’s on my list that would like Ivan’s books? I’m sure I can come up with a few.

Definitions of Butch & Femme

Way back in April, for Sugarbutch’s third anniversary, I offered up an “ask me anything” thread where readers could ask any burning questions that they’d like for me to answer. Given that I’m writing so much these days my pencils are worn down to nubs, and that this summer has been a challenge, I’m behind on answering many of those questions.

Here’s one that I’ve thought about since I read it.

What are your working definitions of “butch” and “femme”?

I know that’s a tricky and possibly annoying question; I ask because I’m currently moving into the recovery phase of a recent gender panic/gender identity crisis. I’m in the process of moving to a more masculine gender presentation and (hopefully?) social role (thank God), and my girlfriend is femme (and I pretty much only like femmes), but then I don’t feel like my gender issues and vibes are very similar to those of the butches I know, and… I’m just really confused.

– Daisy

I do have somewhat of a working definition of these terms: usually I say, in the broadest sense, butch and femme are intentional reclamations and recreations of gender. There’s more to it than that, of course, and these identities are policed by all sorts of social and gender forces. But that’s a start.

But that’s just my brief two cents. I want to know: what are your interpretations of these butch and femme? What are your working definitions?

Say you run into someone who has no knowledge of what being part of butch/femme culture and what identifying as butch or femme means (which, I don’t know about you but, is very frequent for me). Or someone who has only come across these terms as pejorative? What do you tell them?

Or, think about it this way: living in New York City has taught me the strong value of the elevator pitch. Everybody’s busy, everybody’s got somewhere else to be, someone else to talk to, which is more interesting than you. So you’ve got to hook them in with something strong and solid.

So what’s your butch/femme elevator pitch? How do you explain the basics in one sentence?

I’ll have to keep thinking about mine. I’ll chime in in the comments.

Review: Lonestar

As of 2/8/16 This product is no longer available at Babeland

I am the biggest fan of Vixskin dildos out there. I should be president of the Vixskin Fan Club. I mean seriously, they are my favorite – well, to be fair, they are kind of everybody’s favorite right now, they are THE MOST realistic feeling cocks on the market. They’re made of this material that is soft and a little bit pliable to the touch, with a firm core, so it is definitely hard enough, but it is silicone, so it is completely sterilizable.

Right there, I’m sold. Any Vixskin cock Babeland offers up, I want to try. (And I have been.)

lonestarHowever, the Lonestar is the first one that I’ve been disappointed in. It’s 6″ long by 1-7/8″ in diameter, a generous girth and just fine length to be sure, but it doesn’t feel like 6″xalmost-2″ when fucking with it.

So here’s what happened. Kristen and I are having a lovely time, making out, my hand between her legs, kissing, feeling each other, having a general romp, when she says, “I want you to tie me up.”

Out come the ropes. Oh it feels nice to have them in place on my footboard again, where they used to live. I was even a bit out of practice – the first thing I did was tie her spread-eagle but all the way taut, with no real room for her to bend her knees or lift her hips. I realized this pretty quickly, I suppose, because uh, if I actually want to get a cock in that girl while she’s tied up, I need a better angle, we both do.

So I loosened the ropes a bit, told her to bend her knees, gave her some extra room.

I couldn’t get a very good thrust going, ever, really. It still slipped out a few times when things got hot & heavy, and I lost the length pretty much every time I pulled out. It’s 6″, plenty long enough for fucking most of the time, I told myself – what’s the problem?

“Maybe it’s the balls,” Kristen said later. Hm, yeah, maybe. It does mean that the insertable length is a bit less. And they’re a bit awkward – they counter-weight the cock down, so it doesn’t have the same kind of upcurve that other cocks (like the Silky/Mr. Bendy!) that are 6″ have.

Then I noticed, when I was snagging the image for this review, that many of the reviews on Babeland mention how it basically points downward, that it doesn’t quite work for many of the reviewers. It’s close – and it seems like it’d be just perfect – but there’s something about the shape of it that doesn’t quite work. Sorry, Lonestar. Better luck next time.

(Don’t worry though – I changed cocks and Kristen and I had quite a good time with her in ropes, being used, being taken, just the way she likes it.)

Lonestar comes in Vanilla, Caramel, and Chocolate VixSkin silicone. Buy it at Babeland or your local feminist sex toy shop.

Cocks & Harnesses Recommendations

This arrived in my inbox recently:

Dear Sinclair,

I’m transgendered so when I strap although some of the cocks are tempting to buy, I’m not very comfortable with unnatural colors and shapes. I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of a good sized, nice material, and realistic looking cock and a nice and masculine harness. I’ve seen some on your blogs that sound good but i wanted a more personal opinion from someone that actually knows what they’re talking about.

– J

And this isn’t the first time someone has asked me this kind of thing. I write about cocks & harnesses all the time here, but sometimes I think it’s probably a challenge to figure out what it is I’m really using, and what I use often.

So here’s what I wrote back:

I’m glad to throw some ideas your way. Sorry to say, you’re going to have to invest some money in a really nice cock. The ones that are realistic and high-quality are freakin’ expensive. But, the good news is, there are some really good ones available. I totally know what you mean about unnatural colors and shapes, they make me uncomfortable too.

The #1 absolute best realistic cocks out there are by Vixen Creations, their line called Vixskin. The material is some sort of silicone (so it is completely 100% sterilizable) that is made to feel like “cyberskin,” which is the most realistic material on the market. It’s a little bit squishy but still hard. Feels *great*, I highly recommend it. They have lots of different sizes (my #1 very favorite is the Maverick (Babeland calls it the Rodeo Rick) that is 7″x2″) and they all come in chocolate, caramel, or vanilla colors, depending on how light or dark you want the flesh tone to be.

The other great thing about Vixen is that they have a lifetime guarantee. That doesn’t cover “misuse” but if it does break down, they’ll replace it. They’re all in the $100 range, so you might have to save up a bit, but they’ll literally last you a lifetime and they are so worth it.

Most of the sex positive, feminist, queer sex toy shops carry Vixskin, like Good Vibes, Babeland, Blowfish, etc. You might want to actually go to one of those places and check out their sizes, hold them in your hands, all that, to feel what feels most like *yours*.

Harnesses … there are two that seem to be the most popular & famous: the Jaguar (leather, though they also have a vegan one, by Aslan) and the Joque Spare Parts

The Joque & the Jaguar are not *my* personal favorites, actually, mostly because I really prefer the one-strap harnesses, though it seems like most people don’t. I like the commando, and also the Jaguar G, which is the G-string version of the same Jaguar. the leather is SO beautiful and soft and buttery and I just love the design, super comfortable and incredibly hot. Same as with the cocks, it’ll be about a $100 investment, but Aslan Leather (and some of the other nice harness makers too) come with a lifetime guarantee, like Vixen does, so the investment is totally worth it.

– Sinclair

Got a question for me about cocks, harnesses, strapping it on, or something else? Email me – aspiringstud [at] gmail.com – or leave a comment and I’ll get back to you as well as I can.

On Getting Girls Off

There’s something I want to clear up, especially for those folks who have only been reading Sugarbutch for the last eight or so months that Kristen and I have been dating and who have not read the archives.

Kristen gets off really easily. I mean like really easily. You already know this. She can come ten or twenty times in an evening, and then ten or twenty times the next morning. Sometimes I get tired out and she reaches her hands down between her legs, still keeps going, knows she’s got a few more in her. I’ve gotten her off in parks, in cabs, in public, with some words in her ear and my hand on the outside (or inside) of her clothes.

Uh, wait, I’m getting distracted.

Point is, this ability to come often and easily, in my experience, very rare. I know I am writing about it often, and that most of the smut stories I’ve written for the last eight months have involved Kristen, instead of the fictionalized stories I was focusing on more last year, but I am well aware that girls do not usually get off like this.

My ex of four years was pre-orgasmic, and did not come once while we were together. She had what she called “baby orgasms,” and though we had many hours of conversation about what she liked and what we could try, as far as either of us could tell she had never gotten off, ever.

Dating someone pre-orgasmic was completely bizarre to me when we were first puzzling it out. I remember going to my roommate and my best friend at the time, saying, “she has never gotten off! I mean like ever! Never!” and both my roommate AND my best friend responded with, “yeah, so? I, uh, never have either.”

Oh.

Suddenly I felt like I was the weird one, for having masturbated (to orgasm) since I was maybe 12. So I did what I do, I went to the internet, and I read some books, and I asked the folks at Babeland for sex toy ideas, and I watched some Betty Dodson DVDs – I did my research. Turns out something like 4-5% of women are pre-orgasmic or non-orgasmic.

I’m sure not much more than that, if any, get off like Kristen does, so that still leaves another 80% of us somewhere in the middle of those two, getting off sometimes but not always, or getting off with our hands on our own but not with partners, or coming from clitoral stimulation but not from some sort of something inserted inside. Some folks need very specific stimulation in very specific ways. I’ve said in the past that the first time I have sex with someone, I don’t really expect either of us to get off, since we just don’t know each other’s bodies well enough for it yet. It often takes a lot of time, and work, to get the perfect factors in place.

I think I’m a bit more bold now about just flat out asking, “what gets you off?” or asking her to put her fingers on her clit, but I fully recognize that I basically have to re-learn how to get a girl off every time I sleep with someone new. There are some similarities, sure! – thank heavens – but what one person wants might be precisely what is very painful for another.

It is awesome – in the sense that it inspires fucking awe – that Kristen gets off the way she does. I love it. In some ways it’s practically the ideal, for a butch top who wants a femme bottom lover, someone I can just play with and fuck and fill up and get off until she’s begging me to stop, and then I get her off a few more times.

But just because it is an ideal doesn’t mean there aren’t other ideals, or that she’s just had it so easy because that’s the way her body is built – she used to feel incredibly guilty for her interest in sex, her ability to get off, her ability to ejaculate, her own desires. In her words, “I used to only come by myself, but then I learned how to trust people better, and dated non-assholes, and started having the kind of sex I wanted to have.”

Part of my point here is, nobody’s journey to sexual empowerment is easy. Just because Kristen’s or mine or anybody’s appears to be “ideal” doesn’t mean it hasn’t had its problems and complications. In fact, one of the reasons I started Sugarbutch to begin with was because I was not having the kind of sex I wanted, and craved, and I didn’t know how to get it. (Can I just have a moment, a smile, at no longer having that problem? Hell yeah.) But getting the kind of sex that you want means you have to figure out a) what it is you want in the first place, b) how to ask for it, c) how to turn down sex that isn’t it, and d) how to keep it alive and growing. Those are fucking hard challenges, way harder than they sound, and they sound pretty hard.

I’m not attempting to glorify what Kristen’s body is capable of so much as I just want to write and share my sex life, because I love writing about what I did last night and I love how Kristen loves being written about and I love dialoguing with people about making their sex lives better and I love storytelling. I definitely want to be with somebody who really likes sex, but ejaculating and multiple orgasms are not a prerequisite for that.

There are many, many different ways that girls get off, and the ways Kristen does is just one person, just one example. There is nothing wrong with the way her body works, no reason for her to feel ashamed of what it does, just like there’s no reason for you to feel ashamed of what yours does, either. The challenge is to really figure out what it does, what it likes, and be okay with that.

Queer Books Saved My Life

I have a new piece on Carnal Nation called Queer Books Saved My Life. An excerpt:

I have always been a reader. I don’t remember learning to read: I was three, my mother says Sesame Street taught me. Books have always been my go-to when I don’t understand something. Even now, in this digital age, though I do utilize Google faster than you can say “you should Google that,” my second go-to is nypl.org/books and finding a title to put on hold, to pick up at my nearby Mid-Manhattan library.

I don’t remember a time when that wasn’t my answer to any given question plaguing me.

Before I was out, and before I was an “adult” with one of those “real” jobs, I worked in independent bookstores. My specialty and sections were always social sciences. When the shelving had been done, when the desks were tidy and the isles were mostly empty of customers, I would sneak into the slightly secluded corner with psychology, eastern religion, relationships, sex, and gay & lesbian studies, and pull the queer books off the shelves.

Read the piece in its entirety over at Carnal Nation.

The piece is basically the story of my coming to a queer identity, and the ways that books influenced that process. During that time I was living in Fort Collins, Colorado, working at an independent bookstore, and with my high school boyfriend of four years. We split after we both moved to Seattle and I left him, and came out. Meanwhile, I bought the biggest bookshelf I could afford and read everything I could on queer culture and lesbian fiction, and finally felt like I fit in, like I belonged, like I made sense.

I’ll be writing a column for Carnal Nation monthly in the future on Radical Masculinity, which I’m really excited about! If you’ve got topic suggestions or comments, I’m compiling my first few in the next few weeks, please let me know.

Masturbation is Great! (Review: Off With Your Head Hitachi attachment)

As of 2/8/16 This product is no longer available at Babeland

You know what sucks? Not getting off. And I really didn’t realize how often I did (ahem, just about daily) or how comforting it is for me as a nightcap or a pick-me-up until I spent the last six weeks crashing on my own couch or sleeping over at Kristen’s house. Not that Kristen wouldn’t have minded if I had jacked off before bed, I’m sure, but usually it didn’t even occur to me, not the same way that it had become just part of my nighttime routine when I was home alone.

About two weeks ago, Babeland offered up the Off With Your Head attachment for the Hitachi Magic Wand vibrator, one that I’ve been coveting for a while now. When I purchased my Hitachi in college, I was impressed with the vibration, but it really wasn’t specific enough or delicate enough (hah! If there is one thing the Hitachi is not, it is delicate) and I specifically remember a discussion with one of my colleagues at the writing center where I worked where she said, “get the attachment.” And I said, but I don’t really like insertables, I’m not looking for something to go inside … and she said “no, no, I get it, I know, get the attachment, use that on your clit, it’ll be better, I swear, trust me.”

And so I did, and she was right. An attachment like the Gee Whiz silicone attachment or the G-Spotter focuses the vibration and makes the otherwise overpowering vibration of the Hitachi more specific and concentrated, which is precisely what I needed.

So that was what, six years ago? And now that I’m used to the Hitachi, other vibrators seem awfully worthless. I do think there’s a little truth to the rumor that vibrators make you less sensitive – I know my sensitivity changes depending on what kind of sex acts I’ve been frequenting. But there are other factors too – like what time of the month it is, how I feel about my body, how connected I am to myself or to my lover. So the strength of the vibrator not the only contributing factor to my own sensitivity, but it does make a small difference, and the teeny vibrations of other vibes are just not enough. Although, to be fair, they weren’t enough for me even BEFORE I used a Hitachi, which is the major reason why I got a Hitachi to begin with. I’m just not as sensitive as some of you.

But honestly, I have yet to run across another vibrator that would be my go-to as often and as much and as effectively as the Hitachi. All the high-end vibes that are on the market now, well, some of them are very pretty, and seem very fancy and high-tech, but this is the Cadillac, the classic. I don’t need bells and whistles, just vibration.

It was only very recently that I discovered that the white head of the vibrator comes off, and can be replaced by this fabulous silicone one by Vixen. Makes so much sense – it’s sterilizable, so you can share it with someone and sterilize it, and plus it’s got these ridges and bumps and edges that focus the vibration in the same ways that the G-Spotter and Gee Whiz attachments do, but without the protruding part made to actually penetrate. Which stores better in the toolbox I keep next to my bed, with all the things I want easily accessible, and visually I like it better anyway.

So the Off With Your Head attachment arrived, just about the time that my bed was starting to be bedbug-free, and we spent an hour or so getting to know each other – the new Hitachi head, my bed, and me.

I even mentioned it on Twitter:

Getting off that day, I realized I didn’t really remember the last time I did that, which was unusual, and choked me up a little, actually. You know how sometimes you’re so inside of something that you can’t recognize even what a big deal it is? Today I ran across an old post from Havi saying, “Sometimes we can’t notice that we are in pain and sometimes we are so entangled in our own pain and distress that we aren’t able to pay attention to someone else’s pain and distress.” And while I’m sure that’s true, there’s also the aspect – for me – of being so wrapped up in the pain and distress and so focused on getting out of the pain and distress that I don’t even see the kind of pain and distress I am in. I should’ve noticed that things that I do to take care of myself – like yoga and meditation and masturbation – were slipping away from me, but I didn’t really. I gave them lip service, I thought I was keeping up, but I wasn’t, not really.

I hope this can go on my own personal record as something to note, that if I stop doing things like having a masturbation practice, there is probably something wrong.

Oh – I didn’t really mention the fantastic addition to my masturbation collection, but hopefully that’s obvious. The Off With Your Head attachment has become pretty much permanently affixed to my Hitachi.

And yes, I’m using it much more frequently now, and I feel so much fucking better, thank you for asking.

Buy the Off With Your Head attachment for the Hitachi Magic Wand at Babeland, awesome queer and feminist sex-positive sex toy store.

Winners! Two Blowfish DVDs

Aaaaaand the winners of the The Crash Pad Series Volume 4
#47 – Birdie: The Barcelona Sex Project

Y’all are some kinky readers, damn! I mean I knew that already, but I loved hearing about your summers. Thanks for sharing what you did, or want to do, or wished you’d done.

Congrats to the winners! I’ll get in touch via email and request your addresses for shipping.