I was privileged to be interviewed by Ellie over at Lumpesse.com for her Bedroom Radio podcast and our discussion went up just last night. Download episode #21 and hear us chat about gender, sexuality, butch breasts, and all sorts of things. (I was sipping on James all through the interview, so in my head I got less and less coherent by the end of the discussion. I haven’t listened to it yet, we’ll see how much that came through.)

Ellie’s podcast is pretty darn great, if you aren’t listening to it; she often reviews toys on her podcast by, ahem, trying them out. And she’s super smart about sex and gender.

Oh, and I read an excerpt from The Diner on the Corner, the winning Sugarbutch Star submission last year during the interview too.

You know the deadline’s coming up, right? September 1st is Monday. I have quite a few submissions so far - get ‘em in soon, I’m already attached to a few of them.

The Sugarbutch Star chapbook is DONE! I picked up the first fifty copies yesterday, and they will be making their debut at the Femme Conference this weekend. I’ll have copies available online soon.

The 2008 contest is officially underway … I received the very first submission already. I’m reading them as they come in, and as much as I want to say that I’ll be impartial and evaluate them all once I get to the end of the submission period, I find myself already getting attached to ideas that people are throwing out there. Submit your stories sooner rather than later, is what I’m saying.

I’m leaving for Chicago for the Femme Conference in a few hours, so posts will be on hold until I get back on Monday.

Well, it’s that time again … I’m doing another Sugarbutch Star Contest!

Here’s the deal:

• YOU send in the details for an erotica/smut story
• I pick my FIVE finalists, my favorite scenarios
• I write up those finalists, one at a time …
• When they’re all written, readers vote!

Want to be a star on Sugarbutch? This is whachoo gatta do:

Come up with a good scenario for me to write out. And I mean good. Read through last year’s, they are elaborate, fun, and hot. The infamous winning entry, The Diner on the Corner, remains one of my favorite smut stories that I’ve ever written

Include in your scenario outline the characters (who is doing the fucking), the setting (where are we fucking), and the plot (who does what to whom).

Here’s the Claire Danes example I used last year:

Characters: Sinclair & Claire Danes. Claire: redhead, petite, great legs. Particularly proud of her pouty mouth, that could be a nice detail somewhere.

Setting: Central Park & Claire’s apartment. We are both in the park to watch a free concert and catch each other’s eye. Claire approaches Sin, flirting ensues, Claire invites Sin to walk her home.

Story: Claire is very bold and asks Sin up for a nightcap; proceeds to seduce her with jazz music, fingers in Sin’s hair, a short skirt. When Claire gets Sin to the bedroom she gives Sin a blowjob and then straddles Sin, fucking until they both get off. Claire then ushers Sin out kinda fast and laughs at her attempt to get her number.

So make it look something like that. The details are key! Especially in the characters, give me some defining clothes they might wear, facial features, hair color, all that, so I can add those details in. But please, make your submission half a page or less.

EMAIL me this description at: aspiringstud at gmail dot com.

Prizes are TBA, but will probably include some good smut books, possibly some sex toys, and maybe even a night out on the town with yours truly.

DEADLINE for entries is Monday, September 1, 2008. Three whole weeks folks …c’mon, give me your best shot.

(You are definitely welcome to reproduce that image on your own blog, and link back here, to www.sugarbutch.net/sugarbutch-star-contest. And hey, thanks!)

August’s masthead is up. Late, I know. I’ve got some more elaborate ideas for photos that I really want to feature, which go with particular quotes, so I kept putting off updating the masthead thinking that I’ll actually take those photos, but now it’s been a week and I just dug through some old shots. This one was actually taken while I was in Mexico with Datedyke, and shows off the cufflinks Colleen gave me.

I’ve still go to finish “What happened in July,” too - that’s coming. This weekend, probably.

I was just this morning on my commute into the city thinking about my former relationship, the one I was in when I started Sugarbutch. We were together four years, and over the last two we had sex five times. Seriously, I started counting. And I, well, I have a little bit of a sex drive.

So one of the reasons I started writing erotica was to have a release for all the sexual energy and frustration I was feeling. And to continue my writing practice, in general. Go figure, there’s actually a lot of craft that goes in to writing erotica - character, dialogue, rise & fall of action.

I used to always get stuck at the part where the characters are having sex, going all hot & heavy, and then they’re just about ready to orgasm and have the whole scene end. I’d get so stuck there. Finally, Jesse James and I were talking one day, and she said, “well yeah, of course that’s the hard part, because you never really know how somebody comes until they do it, do ya?”

Reminds me of that scene in Amelie where she thinks “How many couples are having an orgasm right now?” And there’s a great montage of climaxes. [Can anybody find that clip on Youtube?] Here’s the clip (thanks Sun! I couldn’t access youtube from work). Each one is different.

I’ve been working on finishing this Sugarbutch Star chapbook lately, I’m getting it ready to be handed out at the Femme Conference next weekend, and I’ve also been thinking about how this used to be a major goal of mine - writing smut to get people off. Specifically, to get lesbians off. Even more specifically, to get lesbians to go fuck their girlfriends and to talk to their girlfriends about sex and to get more of what they actually want out of their sex lives. Sometimes I think Lesbian Bed Death perpetuates the prudish idea that women can - or want to - transcend those silly sexual relations and have some sort of deep, meaningful emotional connection, that that’s all that “really” matters.

Well duh, deep connection is important, but sex is important too. I gues that’s one of the differences between male & female sexualities, though, is that for women it does actually seem to be a case of “use it or loose it,” where the more we have sex, the more we want to have sex - as opposed to men, who while many have fluxuations in their sex drive, still tend to have sex drives independently of however much sex they are or aren’t having. I’m sure this isn’t true for all men or all women, but it tends to be true in many cases. (Y’all know of any sources on this? I’ve looked for articles but haven’t located any yet.)

What I’m trying to say is:

1. Still, one of the highest compliments folks can pay me about my smut writing is that they had to go get off after reading it, but also, that it made them want to go play with their partner or girlfriend or random first date or stranger or whomever. I love getting those emails or comments, thank you for that. Let’s make lesbians in future generations ask, “what is this ‘lesbian bed death’? Lesbians didn’t like having sex? They weren’t the most highly sexual creatures on the planet? I don’t get it!”

and 2 … Got ideas for stories you’ve always wanted me to write? The Sugarbutch Star contest is launching again. More details to come.

For all you RSS readers out there, you probably didn’t notice the new animated gif in the sidebar with the Sugarbutch Chronicles swag prominently displayed.

Get I ♥ femmes, I ♥ butches, and the Sugarbutch Chronicles logo on mugs, hats, tee-shirts, sweatshirts, undies … all sorts. There’s also a few shirts that have “sugar” on the front and “butch” on the back (I like those).

And, of course, there’s some Sugarbutch Star merch as well … including some little one-inch buttons with a star, those are perhaps my favorites. I ordered some for the Sugarbutch Star contest finalists, and I custom-made a shirt for the winner, too. I’m planning to do another contest starting in August.

I’ve got some plans for a few more slogans I want to put up, too, but haven’t finished the designs yet. If you have particular requests, let me know and I’ll consider it!

Couple more things:

I updated the Community page; if you run a blog about sex, gender, or relationships, or queer politics, or gender activism, or if you comment often here, and I am not listing you, please do let me know and I’ll add your link. I don’t keep up with that list very frequently, mostly I’m using the Google RSS reader to share new and interesting sites and articles from around the web (that’s over in the left-hand sidebar).

Someone left a comment recently looking for a tux for a girl in New York City. Cookie writes:

My lady and I are getting married at the end of next year and I’m having an awfully hard time finding a tux to wear. I’m a curvy girl that would like a tux cut for a woman that will fit those curves. Do you know of any queer-friendly places in NYC to buy/have one made?

Any suggestions?

Review all the contest entries here!

Polls close Friday, May 2nd, at 5pm EST.

[Read more →]

I know you’re starting to not believe me about this Sugarbutch Star Contest coming to a close and all, but I really am going to post the last and final piece soon. And after I do that, voting will commence right away … so review your options, pick your favorites, know who you’re going to vote for.

Here’s the options. 

Here’s how it works: Readers submitted an erotic scenario, detailing plot, setting, and characters. I picked my favorites and wrote them into erotic stories, readers will vote on their single favorite. Prizes TBA. The contest ran from July 17th to August 7th, and I got 54 (!) submissions.

Here are the submissions I chose to write up:

Finalists:

Shanna (part one, part two): The Diner on the Corner

“You have to be quiet,” I say. “We’re not alone.”

“We almost are,” she breathes, closing her eyes and tilting her head so I can get to her neck. My fingers run lazy circles around her clit and inner lips, slick already. I dip two fingers inside and feel her muscles pulsing. Slide them in & out while she begins to pant. I circle her clit again, flick it gently and feel her body contract and respond.

“Anybody could walk in at any second,” I say. “Anybody could see my hand under your skirt, if they looked for just a second.” She shivers and presses her thighs open, presses her cunt against my hand, grips my forearm in one hand. I’m working her clit a little harder, a little faster, and her breathing is coming heavier, her body is tense. She’s trying to keep her face still.

Lady Brett Ashley: Threesome and a Purple Tie

“Tell her to get on her knees,” I say to Eli.

“Get on your knees,” Eli says, unbuttoning and sliding her jeans off, pulling the harness on.

Brett sinks. She brings her hands behind her back and I put my hands in her hair, then move one to my fly and cock. I finger her lips, pretty mouth, and she takes two of my fingers between her teeth, sucks them onto her tongue. Soft.

Actions become blurred. My cock. Brett’s jeans pulled off and on the ground. Eli fingering Brett while she sucks me, the lovely noises from her throat as she tries not to come, not yet. Eli clearly knows what to do and doesn’t let up, Brett arches her back like a cat and nearly hangs from my legs, gripping my thighs with her hands as she sucks my cock, pulling on my jeans until they come down with my briefs and she slides two fingers under my favorite harness to find my clit. She works it like a cock, strokes it and rolls it gently between her fingers. I groan, hips buck. Lord.

bird : The Hitchhiker

“Tight little pussy,” Jack murmured, one hand on her ass, spreading her cheeks. “Feels so good to open you with my big cock.”

Jack thrust harder, grunting. “Aw yeah, aw god yeah.” Alice gasped with each hard thrust, impaled, in a bit of pain but also exquisite sensation, hips pressing apart, back arching deeper, mouth open and gasping. She lifted one foot up onto the three piled bags of garden dirt in the corner of the truck and spread her legs for Jack.

“You like that, don’t you. Dirty girl. You’ve been waiting for someone like me to come along and fuck you right, haven’t you. Haven’t you.” Jack thrust harder, slower, then sharp.

“Yes, oh god, Jack, fuck me,” Alice moaned. Jack slid one arm around her waist and twisted, pulled out and shoved her onto the fertilizer, dropping her on her ass harshly and she reached down to catch herself with her hands, her legs slightly tangled in the fabric of her tiny shorts.

Avah : Fucking a Porn Star

The girl whispered something, groaned, into the pillow.

“Uh sorry?” Avah said, both hands on the girl’s hip bones, leaning forward to hear her better.

“Fuck me,” the girl said again, clearly this time, turning her head to the side, red hair falling over her face. “Please, oh god please.”

“Mmm,” Avah agreed, drawing back down the girl’s body to her ass and exposed cunt, two fingers running over her lips and clit, swollen from the long night of sex, from the sensory overload, from the submission.

The girl moaned deliciously with each touch.

Avah grinned and kept her grip on the girl’s hip bones, slid two fingers inside her slick cunt easily. The girl sighed, heavy, and opened deeper. Avah slid out and added another finger, a little tighter with three, the girl inhaled and squirmed a little, so eager, so open.

Shannon

TBA

Honorable mention:

Grey: Charcoal Portrait in the Art Studio

I drop my charcoal. My fingers are blackened with it. Her lips are at my ear: “Which curves are you still missing?” She takes my hand, sets it on her hip. “This one?” On her stomach. “This?” On her thigh. “Here?”

I swallow the hesitation in my throat.

“Come on,” she says. “You can do better than that.” And I can.

The Femme Top: Untitled

I can feel everything. Every breath every movement every inch where my skin is bound with leather. Wrists, ankles. I can hear my heart beat. Can see my chest moving up and down, the skin thin and flushed. I swallow. Focus on the ceiling; you are kneeling, strapping on. Hand on the thick of it, slick with lube. I am exposed. Open to you and you want me here, this way.

Jennifer: The Popsicle in the Library

“You know there’s no food allowed in the library,” I growl in her ear, pressing her stomach against the concrete stairwell wall. I’m speaking quietly but it still echoes.

“Unh,” she groans, not able to form words, mouth open.

“Not very polite of you, breaking the rules like that.” I lift her dress and shove my hands under the edge of her panties. She’s wet.

“Oh, you like this, do you? You’re enjoying this?” I flick my fingers over her cunt, then pull my hand away. She wimpers, echoing in the stairwell.

Bad Bad Girl: The Straight Girl at the Dyke Bar

” … we’re going to do this my way.”

I brought my lips down on hers hard, crushing, devouring, insistent. She whimpered, back curving. I held her body at the precise angle and distance that I wanted, and she went limp in my arms, gave over, arms and shoulders falling back, on her toes.

Pulling away, I grinned. Took a step back. Kept my eyes on her, touched my lower lip with my thumb and felt that stirring in my stomach, that desire, that power.

Madeline: Her Mouth on My Cock

That’s all I really wanted, all night long, in those moments when we touched fingertips and knees sitting next to each other, the one time when I took her slender body into the circle of my arms and wrapped around her, cock tight against her and she could feel it, surely she could, moved her thigh against me and pulled her face away from the nuzzle of the nape of my neck to give me those eyes, those eyes, those pretty eyes and my hand at the back of her neck where her hair is short and thin, delicate, dancing when she shakes her head or laughs which of course she does all night, mouth wide and open, lips pulled over teeth and oh I want to remember what that feels like …

Jefferson: Cross-Country Girl Adventures

“I can’t relax,” he says again, going over to the bars that separate our cell from hers. She lifts her head and sighs.

“Fine,” she says, rising and walking toward him. I hear them both moving but keep my eyes shut. “Unzip.”

He pauses. “Yeah?”

She glances back at her boyfriend, in the cell adjoining hers, passed out cold. “This offer’s gonna expire,” she says.

Jefferson unzips and meets the black bars with his bony hips, cock poking through.

Which is your favorite?