on piercing: earlobe, clit, cock

Posted on April 22, 2008 in _dating | 8 Comments

I put an earring in my left ear over the weekend, a simple stainless steel hoop that goes through two of the four holes I have had in that ear since I was 14 – an orbital. I used to want a transverse lobe piercing, because it is unusual and because of the potential to make a sphere out of two rings, I used to find that image beautiful. But I’m liking the orbital. More subtle than anything hanging down below my earlobe.

I haven’t had earrings in my ears for years, since before that red tie photograph. I occasionally stick a post through the holes just out of curiosity, to see if they’re still open, and they always are. I usually don’t leave an earring in though, and now, two days later, I’ve got that dull ache of flesh being forced out of its natural state of being, but instead forced open, forced apart. Difficult to sleep on my left side (as I often do) or cradle a phone on my left shoulder (which I also often do).

I like the awareness that a new piercing brings to a body part. How conscious I am of the way my earlobe feels when I’m doing anything, getting dressed, slinging my bag over my shoulder, listening to headphones.

Last night I dreamed of kissing, shoulder and clavicle and neck and jawline, eventually slipping her earlobe between my lips, feeling my tongue meet it, hot and smooth.

Having this ring in my ear is making me crave another new piercing. I have eleven, all together, though only three – four, now – have jewelry in them. I remember saying at some point that I no longer wanted adornment piercings, only functional piercings.

I’ve wanted a clit piercing for years. Always thought I’d get a vertical hood piercing, and still might – lately, considering the primary way I get off these days is strapped on, clit-against-harness, a piercing might be great for that kind of thing. (Might also make strap-on sex incredibly painful for a while, so that’s a hesitation.) I’ve also liked the idea of a triangle … that is more and more appealing. Not sure I have the anatomy for it exactly, and I hear there are hard to do, and must be done by someone particularly skilled. The story is that Elaine Angel (Buck Angel’s partner, I believe) is a master at triangles, and no longer practices in the US but does recommend a few of her apprentices. Perhaps I’ll make a trip to Philadelphia this summer.

What I’d really like, right now, actually, is to get my cock pierced.

I’ve been thinking about that for a while, but haven’t found someone to do it yet. No, that’s not true – I haven’t really done the research, and I haven’t asked around. I must know a few kinky folks who have piercing kits, and I think I’d trust them to do one of my cocks – what I’d really love to do is pierce my favorite Silky packing cock, but the flesh of it is actually quite thin and splits easily, I fear once it gets punctured it would just rip open and the cock would be ruined. It’s not silicone, but I’m not sure about it either. Perhaps the same thing would happen?

Possibly, then, I should pierce one of my non-playing packing cocks, which would mean that it is much more for adornment than function. That’d be alright, to start with anyway, until I figured out how to pierce one with which I could actually play.

8 Comments | Category: _dating | Tags: , ,

the sadistic impulse

Posted on April 21, 2008 in Penny, _dating | 31 Comments

me: I want to smack your ass
her: that’s exciting to me. how do you feel when you’re doing that?
me: strong, powerful. hard and wanting.
me: but also? completely inadeuqate and in awe of such beauty.
her: that’s incredibly sweet …
me: more in awe than inadequate; in reverence.

That moment of inadequacy is so hard to describe (especially via text message, what was I thinking?) – it’s less about the hierarchy between us or my own self-worth (that ‘inadequate’ implies) as it is about awe and reverance, like looking at the Milky Way and witnessing its spinning, a deep wonder at the beauty before me – and then a deep desire to bite into a destroy something so precious.

What is that impulse? My mom, who works with elementary school kids, speaks of it often – spending a few hours on a beach building a sand castle or a rock pattern only to have some of the fourth grade boys come trampling through and destroy it all. Sure, maybe once in a while there is a girl who does this – and sure, there are boys who never would (do forgive my oversimplification of gender roles here) – but by and large, the kids who do this are boys, and boys alone.

It reminds me of what I’ve read in feminist scholarship about pre-Christian matriarchal and goddess-centered cultures of which we have so little record. Some theories discuss how men were (and still are) so much in awe of a woman’s strength and power in sexuality that their impulse was to put it under lock and key, to control, to regulate. What they could not have themselves, they longed to own, occupy, colonize.

And in moments like my date on Saturday night, with girls like her, I deeply understand this feeling.

What is that? Where does that come from? It is similar to the impulse of destruction I’ve hinted at, the witness of something so perfect, so flawless and lovely, so fresh and baby-green and precious, trembling with new life like the leaves on the trees right now, that after a moment of quiet awe and appreciation I want to caress it, touch my hand gently to it, then wrap my fingers closed around it and squeeze the life out until I hear the last gasp of breath. I want to rip it from it’s branch like meat from a bone.

I don’t like this impulse much, I’m suspicious of it. I’m a pacifist, a feminist – but I’m also a sadist. I get off on the intentional release of pain. That also makes me a healer.

I have control of this impulse, to a point. I don’t actually crush baby leaves, or destroy flowers or people. But there have been times, that I can count on one hand, where I’ve been so deeply in sync with a lover, where they’ve sensed this impulse in me and provoked it, where I’ve nearly tipped over the edge and given in. I don’t really know what would happen inside of it, I’ve never trusted someone else – or myself – enough to find out.

Maybe this is one of the ways that I seek balance on a fairly extreme scale.

This too is why I like classic femininity in my lovers, in femmes: I want to see that supposed innocence. It riles me up, incites in me this impulse to take, to conquer, to overthrow, to destroy.

Consensually, and with such reverance and care, of course, of course.

31 Comments | Category: Penny, _dating | Tags: , , , , ,

the personal ad I’m not posting

Posted on April 8, 2008 in _dating | 14 Comments

You:

Tree-climbing dirty jeans and sneakers femme. Frisbee in the park and a picnic femme. Jogging in the rain femme. Dancing sober all night femme. Occasional martinis at home because it’s Tuesday femme. The come-fuck-me-now-eyes femme. Take me down femme. Turn over now femme. High heel shopping on a Saturday with lattes femme. Custom made jewelry femme. Beliefs and convictions and spiritual femme. Deep values of care and kindness femme. Recognition of your own shit femme. Able to articulate where you’re coming from femme. High sex drive femme. Occasionally needs to get roughed up femme. Always has a safeword femme. Just as comfortable in Chucks as you are in Maddens femme. Garter belt femme. Toolbelt femme. Brings me to my knees femme.

Me:

Chivalrous feminist butch. Suit coats and ties and wingtips butch, khakis and polos at work butch. Boycut #4 butch. Takes you out, then takes you down butch. Up against the wall in dirty alleys butch. Under the table at a fancy restaurant butch. Knows how to wield a paddle butch. Knows how to drive a stick butch. Packs most weekends butch. Always has a pen and a rock on me butch. Carries your shopping bags, opens your doors, offers my jacket butch. Stays up late talking or fucking or both butch. Love notes at work butch. Butler and Halberstam and Rednour and Hollibaugh and Bergman and Califia and Queen butch. Rich and Clifton and Siken and Oliver and Hafiz and Ackerman and Doty butch. Dapper dandy faggy butch. Hardcore respectful high butch.

Us:

Slow and steady love. Intentional, honest, and kind love. Responsible, passionate love. Both grounded and floating love. For each other and for ourselves love. Able to walk away at any time and be okay love, but we don’t, we stay because we want to love.

(I haven’t yet given up that you are out there.)

14 Comments | Category: _dating | Tags: , , ,

infamous

Posted on March 25, 2008 in _dating | 1 Comment

  • Libertine – Libertine has come to mean one devoid of any restraints, especially one who ignores or even spurns religious norms, accepted morals, and forms of behaviour sanctioned by the larger society. The philosophy gained new-found adherents in the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries, particularly in France and Britain. Notable among these were John Wilmot, 2nd Earl of Rochester, the Marquis de Sade, and Aleister Crowley. “Libertine”, like many words, is an evolving one, defined today as “a dissolute person; usually a person who is morally unrestrained”. In modern times, libertinism has been associated with sado-masochism, nihilism, and free love.
  • Rake – A rake is defined as a man habituated to immoral conduct. Rakes are frequently stock characters in novels. Often a rake is a man who wastes his (usually inherited) fortune on wine, women and song, incurring lavish debts in the process. The rake is also frequently a cad: a man who seduces a young woman and impregnates her before leaving, often to her social or financial ruin. To call the character a rake calls attention to his promiscuity and wild spending of money; to call the character a cad implies a callous seducer who coldly breaks his victim’s heart. These men are also known as heels. A bounder is an ‘ill-bred, unscrupulous man’, the social inferior of the cad.
  • Chivalry – Chivalry is a term related to the medieval institution of knighthood. It is usually associated with ideals of knightly virtues, honor and courtly love. The word is derived from the French word chevalier, indicating one who rides a horse (Fr. cheval). Today, the terms chivalry and chivalrous are used to describe courteous behavior, especially that of men towards women.
  • Lothario - a character in Nicholas Rowe’s 1703 play The Fair Penitent. He seduces and betrays the female lead. The name has come to mean any handsome seducer, generally male.
  • Don Juan (or Don Giovanni) is a legendary fictional libertine, whose story has been told many times by different authors. Don Juan is an unrepentant womanizer who seduces women either by disguising himself as their lovers or by promising marriage. He leaves a trail of broken hearts, angry husbands, and outraged fathers.In the legend, Don Juan is a roguish libertine who takes great pleasure in seducing women and (in most versions) enjoys fighting their champions. The main force of the legend revolves around his either raping or seducing a young woman of noble family, and killing her father. Later, he encounters a statue of the father in a cemetery and impiously invites it home to dine with him, an invitation the statue gladly accepts. The ghost of the father arrives for dinner and in turn invites Don Juan to dine with him in the cemetery. Don Juan accepts and goes to the grave where the statue asks to shake Don Juan’s hand. When he extends his arm, the statue grabs him and drags him away to Hell.
  • Casanova – So famous a womanizer was the Italian-born libertine Giacomo Casanova that, a full two centuries after his death, his name remains synonymous with the art of seduction. Still called “the world’s greatest lover.” In 1740 Casanova was back in Venice where he started his clerical law career in the church as an abbé. By now he had become something of a dandy — tall and dark, his long hair powdered, scented, and elaborately curled. He quickly ingratiated himself (something he was to do all his life) with a 76-year old Venetian senator, Alvise Gasparo Malipiero, the owner of Palazzo Malipiero. Malipiero moved in the best circles and taught young Casanova a great deal about good food and wine and how to behave in society. He never spent much time on his church career, due to his restless nature and preoccupation with sex.Judith Summers’ biography of Casanova paints a different picture of him than the traditional one. She describes how he was attracted to strong minded women who presented him with an intellectual as well as a romantic challenge. He did not pursue sex for its own sake and if he had nothing to say to a woman, rarely wanted to sleep with her. She also puts forward the theory that among his 200 plus lovers were many women who took advantage of his kindness, generosity, and vulnerability.
  • Sinclair Sexsmith – ???

(Thanks, Wikipedia) 

1 Comment | Category: _dating |

high heels lead to a stronger pelvic floor

Posted on March 21, 2008 in _dating | 1 Comment

I love heels. Stilettos, kitten heels, boots, even wedge heels. I love how they enhance the S-shape of a woman’s body.

Growing up in a feminist household, it was ingrained in me early on that high heels are bad for women’s feet and hips, that they cause shinsplints and hip problems and weak knees and all sorts of things. It took me a long time to come to my own acceptance of liking high heels on femmes … even having a bit of a strappy sandal fetish, I might say.

Diana Cage and I were talking last night on her radio show about my turn-ons, and I mentioned heels, though not without the caveat of the feminist knowledge of how damaging they can be to a woman’s body.

But, Diana told me about a recent study where wearing high heels actually improves the muscles on a woman’s pelvic floor, thus making her, you know, tighter.

I looked it up. From the BBC – High heels “may improve sex life”: An Italian urologist and “lover of the sexy shoe” did a recent study which showed that women who wore a 2″ heel or higher had as good posture as those who wore flat shoes, and also showed “less electrical activity” in their pelvic muscles, which are not just useful in the organs of the body (like the bladder) but also in increased sexual satisfaction and performance. “This suggested the muscles were at an optimum position, which could well improve their strength and ability to contract. The pelvic floor muscles are an essential component of the female body.”

Probably most of us have heard of PC muscle exercises, “Kegels,” as they’re called, to strengthen the pelvic floor – same idea. It makes sense that heels would improve these muscles, when I think about it … and I think it’s another subconscious way that heels sexualize a woman’s body.

This also reminds me of an exercise we did in the Body Electric Celebrating the Body Erotic workshop last fall, the mulabhanda pelvic lock, or root lock, in which you keep your pelvic muscles tightened and breathe in a particular pattern. It was surprisingly difficult and incredibly hot.

I’m sure it’s still possible to damage your body by wearing heels constantly, this can’t undo all the other potential damage. But I’m also glad to know that there is some physical good that comes from wearing heels.

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Protected: reflections on exes

Posted on March 16, 2008 in _dating | Enter your password to view comments.

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tips for dating via personal ads

Posted on March 15, 2008 in _dating | 8 Comments

I’m trying this dating thing again, and I’ve answered a couple of personal ads on Craigslist in the last few weeks. No dates so far – seems the flirtation dies out pretty quickly, and frankly, I could pursue it, but I’m not willing to do all the work. Some, yes, but you’ve got to make it worth my while, you’ve got to pique my interest. I’m definitely more picky than I used to be, and I’m not so willing to compromise – hell, I’m not quite even sure I’m ready to date, I’m still dizzy from the ending of that last relationship with DD. I’m not in a hurry, but I am getting just a wee bit anxious to get laid.

Meanwhile, we’ve coined some new terms: DND, definitely not dating; email chemistry, for what kind of feeling you get from someone via writing; small-r vs big-R relationship.

I’ve noticed a few patterns in this dating adventure. Here’s some things that keep coming up for me. Got any tips for me, or for others? What have you learned by dating on the internet? Lay it on me, I can use all the help I can get.

  1. When placing an ad, make sure you have time in the next two weeks or so to go on follow-up dates. Clear your date nights – Friday and Saturday – or, if you can’t do that (if you work those nights, for example), have a few other options open, brunch on the weekends, or typical happy hour time for those who may be doing that 9-to-5 office thing. You don’t have to go out with everybody who answers, of course, but you want to be able to pick two or three of the good responses and be available to actually meet in the near future.
  2. When sending photos of yourself:
    a) ask your friends to help you pick out the shots that actually look like you, even if they aren’t what you consider to be your most flattering photo;
    b) include a shot of your face and a shot of your body;
    c) do not include photos of you with your ex. Have your friends take new shots of you if those are the only ones you have;
    d) resize your photos to somewhere around 600px by 400px. Attaching huge, giant photos directly from the camera is very inconvenient for the recipient, and are hard to see.
  3. Your social networking site is also a personal ad. Send on your Myspace/Friendster/Facebook site upon sending your name or your photograph (your potential date will probably Google you anyway). If you use your Myspace profile for something else (keeping an eye on your kids, connecting with your high school students) make a profile that just highlights you, where you can actually write things. No need to be smutty and intimate and TMI, just have it be an authentic representation of you. This profile should be PUBLIC, with some photos that you haven’t already sent onto your prospective date, because why else would we be looking at your profile? To gauge whether or not you are physically interesting & attractive. That doesn’t necessarily mean “conventionally beautiful” – it means, whether or not I’m intreagued by the way you look. If you need to keep this private, for whatever reason, then after your prospective date sends you a request to be added, please follow up on that quickly.
  4. When you set a tone in your personal ad, it’s best to follow up with that tone too. You created a persona for yourself in your ad, if you can’t follow through with it, best to put up a persona that you can follow through with. Sounds cheesy to say “be authentic,” but, come on. Be authentic, even if that authenticity is NSA dating & sex. That’s authentic too.

8 Comments | Category: _dating | Tags: , , ,

oops! an open apology

Posted on December 24, 2007 in PSA, _dating | 1 Comment

Madeleine, I so apologize – we definitely met through Sugarbutch, definitely slept together.

Wow, I have no idea how you could’ve possibly slipped my mind when I wrote that. As I’ve said, you were the first Sugarbutch Star, after you kept whispering let go, just let go into my ear that night after the Sex Blogger’s Tea Party last year.

I don’t know why I hadn’t made that connection – I guess it’s because it feels like we’re friends!

Do forgive me, sweetheart.

1 Comment | Category: PSA, _dating |

roses on fishnet stockings: yum

Posted on November 27, 2007 in _dating | 5 Comments

On the V train:

Caramel skin and she smelled like vanilla. Her hat was knit, covering her head like a something poofy and french, brown ringlets poking deliberately out from under it. Her jacket was mocha coffee colored suede with white fur at the seams, it came in stylishly at the waist and flared at the bust, unbuttoned to reveal delicious curves, cleavage. I don’t usually notice cleavage. Hers was near perfect.

On the E train:

Snow white: ruby lips, raven hair, creamy skin. Stop staring, I tell myself.

At Union Square:

Roses embroidered on the backs of her fishnet stockings. Black heels, not delicate, but not clunky either, rather very solid, firm. I wanted to bite each rose from her calf. Tear it with my teeth.

Clearly something is happeneing to my libido today. I do go through these moods occasionally. I wonder where I am in my cycle, if this corresponds.

Makes me wish I had someone to call & fuck.

Closest relationship I’ve had to that is Belle – but apparently, she has a girlfriend now. I haven’t talked to her much recently, we really only saw each other a few times. Too bad, though. I thought she’d be on the market for a while longer – I should’ve played with her more while I could, I really enjoyed her. And – on top of the physical chemistry, she never put pressure on me, never needed anything from me. That’s how we both laid it out at the beginning of getting together, and I had my doubts as to whether or not that could happen, but it did.

I guess it’s good to know that I’m capable of a sex-based relationship, in theory.

5 Comments | Category: _dating | Tags: , , , , ,

will my cock get sucked?

Posted on November 20, 2007 in _dating, stories to turn you on | 2 Comments

I stood at the foot of the bed. Standing up made me realize that my jeans were still unzipped, belt unbuckled, falling around my hipbones. I hedged my bets: would my cock get sucked tonight? Is it presumptuous of me to keep my fly down? I decided: yes. I began to button the jeans.”What are you doing?” she clearly didn’t agree with my decision. We started laughing.

We weren’t going to fuck, I knew it already. That was okay – I went to see her, to meet her, to hang out, with only the expectation of the company of a smart, pretty girl, and hopefully some flirting.

And oh I got that.

She was stunning. I particularly liked her in jeans and a white a-shirt, hair tussled and no makeup, bare feet, when she answered the door, though as soon as I saw her lips slightly pinked and luscious I knew I wanted to kiss her, hoped we’d kiss, before the end of the short few hours we had.

We settled into a borrowed bedroom and she lit candles, turned out the lights, after she brought the three gerbera daisies and bottle of prosecco into the room with us.

We weren’t going to fuck – and this is the second time that this has happened with us, of the two times we’ve met – but fuck if she didn’t make me want. Kisses and her eyes and curly hair and the way her neck bent back when I pulled it and that little southern twang in her voice and her tongue and oh the sounds from her throat.

“I want to learn how to throw you around,” I said.

She laughed. “You have already learned that. Graduated from that school, walked across that stage, picked up the diploma, switched your tassel to the other side.”

I laughed too. “Maybe. Then I want to practice.”

There was a moment when some feeling grew from my cock up through my chest to radiate out through my shoulders into my fingertips and my timing was perfect, fist on wrist with a precise leg twist so she went exactly where I placed her.

And I could’ve devoured her, then.

I wanted to. I felt her hesitation and didn’t push it. Maybe she’d say the same of me, but I was eager, willing. I imagine that was clear.

I brought my cock. I’d showed it off at the tea party beforehand, and was hesitant to keep it on, but wanted to be prepared.

“I certainly didn’t want to seem … presumptuous.” I said. There’s that word again.

“I would’ve been mad if you hadn’t brought it,” she answered.

And, later, she said: “I want to suck your cock.”

I wanted to growl fucken do it then and push her head down, but it wasn’t quite that kind of night. That, though, was what she brought out in me.

“I would like that …” I said weakly, trying not to writhe and moan on the bed.

She has incredibly sensitive lips. Earlier, after she’d admired my various bits of (ahem, carefully groomed) body hair, she’d asked me if I shaved – it puzzled for a second, before I realized she meant my face. “Yeah,” I admitted. “Can’t really feel it now … ” I brought my fingers to my five o’clock shadow, still mostly smooth. She could feel it though. Her mouth is just that sensitive.

(Small sidenote: That’s new for me, really, that my lack of shaving or non-feminine placed body would be a turn-on for a lover. I guess it has to do with the ways I am masculine, which makes sense, if what someone is attracted to in me is (at least in part) my butchness. It’s taken me a while to not feel weird about it though – I was socialized female, shaved for many years, despite my hippie parents objections. Also, having more hair tends to be a sign of testosterone in the body, doesn’t it? I wonder if that’s related to my butch identity, some sort of biological connection? Or maybe I’m just reaching for ways that this butchness came from “inside” and not only adopted as a performative gender-bending practice.)

I don’t know when, or if, I’ll see her again, but I hope our paths will cross sooner than the last time I saw her. She lives in the south, and did tell me that if I am ever in her city and want to get sweaty, I should call her. Likewise, I made sure she knew she always has a booty call in New York.

2 Comments | Category: _dating, stories to turn you on | Tags: , , , , ,

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