It’s Valentine’s Day, so here’s some Desert Island Toys

It’s Valentine’s Day this week! You didn’t forget it, did you? Well, you’re lucky—if you place an order before noon on Wednesday, they’ll upgrade your shipping to next day air, with some other goodies thrown in too.

Whether you’re single, or have one or two or more hotties you want to share some sexytimes with this V-day, I’m sure you can find a way to … work this to your advantage.

Here’s some of my very favorite desert island toys. Maybe it’s time to add them to your toy box!

Vixskin Maverick shilo tristan

jaguarg SpareParts Joque Harness tomboi

1-1-AB-BE01-2 Liberator Throe Njoy Pure Wand

underbed Crash Pad Series queerpornrevolution

What’s that? You still want more?

Well, okay then. Here’s even more of my favorite products of all time over at Good Vibrations. ‘Cause you’re gonna need some condoms, gloves, and lube to go with those toys, aren’tcha?

Order by noon today (Wednesday) & get free next day shipping, free vibrator, free gift card, & other goodies!

February Feature: Crash Pad Series & strap-on queer porn scenes you gotta see

Hello! This is your monthly affiliate feature, where I share with you some of the reasons you should indulge in a particular product or service. This month, February 2014, it’s going to be Pink & White, fine makers of such queer porn as the Crash Pad Series, Pink & White Productions, Pink Label (streaming on demand), and Heavenly Spire.

I’ve had a Crash Pad membership for years. Shine Louise Houston makes some of the fucking finest queer porn currently available—and I don’t just say that because she features queers of all genders, all body sizes, all races and skin tones, and all kinds of kink. I also say that because I’ve seen boatloads of queer porn, and her stuff is, quite frankly, the very best.

Remember back when the internet was a baby wee “net” and so of course was 65% full of porn? I drew the (mistaken) conclusion that all people who made porn were somehow exploitative, so therefore I would never pay money for it.

But then, a few years later … I saw this:

And I watched it over, and over, and over and over and overandoverandover. It was the. Hottest. Thing. I’d. Ever. Seen.

(And because it was such a significant moment in my sexy timeline, and I watched it two twenty thousand times, I STILL think it is incredibly fucking hot.)

It took me a while before I actually saw the full-length DVD. A year or two? But I didn’t forget this trailer. And then after I saw the actual DVD, I thought … this is a game-changer. You know what this means? There is actually good queer porn.

I’d never seen that kind of queer dyke porn with that kind of intensity and strap-on play in any place other than, well, SIR Productions (like Sugar High Glitter City and Hard Love and How to Fuck in High Heels). I was impressed. I mean like really impressed.

And … well, then I started paying for porn.

I started interacting more with the folks who were creating the porn—the filmmakers, the porn stars, the photographers—and I wanted to support their work. I thought it was important for them to be able to get paid to do this work, so that they could keep doing it and not have to go do some day job they didn’t really like and then stop making porn.

(You can rent the original Crash Pad: Director’s Cut film on Pink Label, and if you’ve never seen it, you’re in for a treat.)

So! Fast forward a few years, and I’ve been watching the online Crash Pad Series religiously. (I mean really: my boy & I have a tradition of watching porn and having pancakes on the weekends, which I consider another form of worship.) I get really behind and don’t always keep up with the new episodes, but because sometimes reviewing porn is part of my job, I love excuses to catch up. Like this one!

So I started watching backwards from the most recent season, and picked some of my favorite more recent scenes to feature and share with you. These all have strap-on play in it, because, well, that’s kinda my thing.

Without further adieu …

Five Amazing Crash Pad Strap On Scenes

Episode 152: Chocolate Chip & Nikki Darling

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This is box title
“Back so soon, Nikki Darling? And with one of our favorite flavors, Chocolate Chip – a face long-time fans are sure to recognize. After spending a little time cuffed to the bed, Nikki ends up on top of Chocolate’s RodeoH-secured cock. Vigorous cock-sucking ensues, before it’s Chocolate’s turn to bend over for some hot rimming and a magic wand ride. I like the way that cookie crumbles.” – Keymaster

Episode 164: Nikki Hearts & Rizzo Ford

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This is box title
“When Nikki Hearts brings green-haired, giggling Rizzo Ford to the Pad, things heat up fast. Rizzo has orgasm after shivering, shouting orgasm thanks to Nikki’s strap-on skills before returning the favor with her tongue. Come for the hot queer sex, stay for the gorgeous tattoo eye-candy!” — Keymaster

Episode 165: Kimberly Kills & Brittany Bendz

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I don’t know if you guys know this about me, but I kind of have a foot fetish. (Turns out, all those years of adoring shoes? I guess that was a gateway drug.) And finding queer porn with lovely foot play is, well, pretty rare. And two super hot trans queers? Unh I’ve never quite seen anything like this. And I liked it. Um a lot.

This is box title
“Why measure your pleasure by mere inches? For Kimberly Kills, fun comes by the foot. Brittany Bendz’ foot, to be precise, as they close 2013 with a most impressive game of footsie.” – Keymaster

Episode 160: Odile & Daisy Ducati

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This is box title
“Some boots are made for walkin’. Daisy Ducati’s black vinyl skyscrapers are made for licking, and that’s just what Odile’s gonna do, providing service with a smile for Daisy’s boots and cock. These two fuck with delicious symmetry, however, and Odile takes a turn on top after trading bejeweled buttplugs. I hate to speculate, but I think we’ll all enjoy the mutually satisfying conclusion.” — Keymaster

Episode 148: Courtney Trouble, Dylan Ryan, & Chelsea Poe

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Okay, okay, you got me: This isn’t exclusively a strap-on scene, though lots of these have other things in addition to their strap-on play. Though there is an appearance, this is more of a take-down kind of scene. Courtney Trouble & Dylan Ryan are two of my favorite queer porn stars, and Chelsea Poe is so fucking hot in this, and they are fantastic together. So consider it a bonus.

This is box title
“Dylan Ryan and Courtney Trouble were two of the first Keyholders, so I decided to give them a gift… a little something special to break in the new Pad: Chelsea Poe, tied up with a bow. They immediately put her to good use, taking turns with her face between their thighs. Then Courtney finger-fucks Chelsea while getting fucked by an nJoy-wielding Dylan, until Dylan decides to put on a cock and fuck Chelsea’s mouth. Something for everyone as we break in the new digs!” – Keymaster

PS: As a teeny little aside, I ran into this interview I did with Shine from 2010 while I was working on this article, which talks all about her homage to masculinity, Heavenly Spire. I love what she has to say about being a queer and masculine of center / butch pornographer who is interesting in pointing her camera at cis and trans men. And I really love the artful films in that project, too.

PS: There’s a Valentine’s Day sale going on for new members.

crashvday

Coupon Code: 50E expires 2/15/2014. Sign-up!

What Roses on Valentine’s Day Are For

Kristen spent the weekend at a work-related conference, and I spent the weekend watching Pushing Daisies, going to butch burlesque, reading, doing various housekeeping tasks, and gathering a few little things for Valentine’s Day.

I had the dozen long-stem red roses on the table when she got back last night, and I had bought the ingredients and was already preparing dinner: roasted beet, goat cheese, and candied walnut salad, and homemade butternut squash tortellini with a brown butter sauce. Most of the components were about done by the time she arrived home, so we got the wonton wrappers out and folded up the butternut squash puree.

Ravioli, tortellini, and other kinds of stuffed pasta are Kristen’s favorite, so I thought I’d just cook some up, but when I started looking for sauce recipes I found that Giada De Laurentiis recipe and figured it didn’t look too hard—I had no idea you could use wonton wrappers to make tortellini! It had a lot of components, and took a while to roast the squash, but it wasn’t all that difficult and was delicious. And we still have about a dozen tortellini in the freezer, all ready to be cooked.

But enough about the food.

We watched a flick and made out on the couch. Before we went back into the bedroom, I pulled a rose out from the vase.

Which is why there are only eleven in the vase this morning; the 12th was dragged all over her body after I stripped her clothes off, the soft petals tickling her nipples and hips and inner thighs and cunt, then the long stem used as a makeshift cane on her inner thighs.

It didn’t last that long—it broke in two places before I could really get her warmed up and start delivering some harder swats. I don’t think I left any marks from the rose, but some gentle welts on her inner thighs were a bit raised last night. And this morning I noticed a couple handprint-shaped bruises on the backs of her thighs.

Valentine’s Day is off to a good start. Today, after I go to the gym and do some work, I’m going to make some extra-chocolatey brownies. And tonight’s plans are only a simpler dinner; I’ve requested her signature noodles with peanut sauce.

Extra Sexy Valentine’s Day

So Babeland did this sweet Valentine’s Day gift guide, and it got me thinking about what sexy toys and gifts I would highly, highly recommend, above all others, for you to pick up for your sweetheart (and, uh, yourself) for this Valentine’s Day.

I’ve been reviewing products for more than two years, and these are some of my personal favorites. The queer porn is especially good as a Valentine’s Day gift I think … plus, if you get a year-long membership, or even a month-long, that will be an ongoing present, one you can enjoy together and that might help take your sex life to a new level. It’s much easier to point to some sex act or product on screen and say, “So what do you think of that?” in order to open up conversation than it is to say, “Hey, I want to try …”

Hope you find something you like, and that the day is fun, regardless of how you celebrate.

You can also check out more of my favorite toys over at Good Vibrations, where they have various celebrity picks.

So let’s hear it: what are you getting your sweetheart, or yourself, this year? How, if at all, are you celebrating? What are your very favorite toys that I might have left off this list?

My Hands Are My Heart (Valentine’s Day)

So … what are you doing for Valentine’s Day this Sunday?


“My Hands Are My Heart,” Gabriel Orozco, 1991

Remember what Kristen and I did last year? I planned a little surprise trip up to a winery, which was lovely. This year, though, I’m broke and Kristen doesn’t like spending money, so we’re taking swing dancing lessons through February (which we both LOVE) and staying in this weekend, cooking and holing up with each other.

All I really want to do lately is get lost in her, talk to her, touch her, explore her. I’ll probably make a little card or love note too … I’d love to write a perfect poem for her, one of these days. I ran into this lovely haiku the other day, and you know how sometimes you read things and they are just like so fucking perfect that you feel like you’ll never write something that good? I kind of love that feeling. And I really love this haiku.

I have never felt
more completely like myself
than when I hold you.

Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson

Not that I’ll stop trying to write her a perfect poem. I will, I am. Just that I keep running into things that are so perfect. Like this: “She wasn’t doing a thing that I could see, except standing there, leaning on the balcony railing, holding the universe together.” — J.D. Salinger (posted on my tumblr media log recently). Maybe I just need to do some sort of collage or compilation.

On a related note, I was listening to Dan Savage’s podcast Savage Love, which, if you don’t listen to, I highly HIGHLY recommend, he’s sometimes a bit of a jerk, yes, and occasionally has some bad slips of the tongue about plenty of hot-button things, but he’s honest, and very sex-positive, and I’ve learned a LOT from his work over the past ten years. Last week, at the beginning of his podcast, he had this to say:

Valentine’s Day is a week and change away, and when you’re a sex advice professional, as I am, you get a lot of calls on the run up to Valentine’s Day, asking for boiler-plate love and romance advice from bullshit publications that the rest of the year pretend that sex doesn’t really exist. And what they want is usually this bullshit deep-fried funnel cake sugar coated romance crap, and not real romance: you know, “how do you sex up your Valentine’s? How do you make it more erotic?” And what they want to hear is candles, and dinner, and wine, and flowers.

What’s crazy about all the standard Valentine’s Day gifts is that they all have narcotic effects, really! Go out and have some wine, and eat a big rich meal, and you’re really not going to want to fuck when you get home! You’re going to want to fall the fuck asleep. And then you get all these letters—if you’re a sex advice professional, as I am—the day after Valentine’s Day, from people who are worried about the health of their relationship, or whether their partner is really attracted to them, because they went out and had this big romantic Valentine’s Day date and dinner, and then they didn’t fuck because they fell asleep, or he fell asleep. Well of course he fell asleep. He had a gut full of steak and booze and rich crap.

You know, if you want to spice up your sex life, on Valentine’s Day, stay the fuck home, do something that gets your blood pumping, like move your ass, don’t feed your face, and then bone each other! Done! The end, right? Don’t make reservations. Don’t fall into the restaurant industrial chocolate complex conspiracy that is Valentine’s Day, and think you have to mark it by pouring money into … whatever! You need to pour your own bodily fluids into each other (if you are fluid bonded, if not please use condoms and barriers and whatever)! And you can do that best if you stay the fuck home!

You know what you should do, if you do go to the restaurant—and you probably should go the restaurant, waiters gotta eat, I put myself through school waiting tables, I don’t want to like kill the restaurant industry (I don’t think I have that power)—FUCK FIRST. Fuck at four o’clock, if you have dinner reservations at eight. Fuck twice if you have dinner reservations at eight, then go to the restaurant. And toast the awesome relationship you have, and the amazing sex you just had, and then go home and collapse into bed, and fall the fuck asleep.

—Dan Savage, Savage Love Podcast episode 172 (transcribed by me, errors are probably my fault)

Now, I’ve always been a sex-at-night kind of person, probably because I like staying up late, but my days are often so jam-packed lately that I’m finding Kristen and I do this quite often—we go out to some awesome event, or for a great meal, then we end up crashing. This definitely made me think about planning the evening (and the sex play) with a little bit more intention.

I know, I know, Valentine’s Day is a cheesy corporate and capitalistic holiday, and we shouldn’t need excuses to show our loved ones that we care. But, to be honest … I’m a romantic, and I like the excuses. I also fight with my tendency to over-shower, over-give, over-love someone, and an event gives permission to channel those tendencies into gifts or romance.

So the question remains: what are you doing for Valentine’s Day this Sunday? What do you wish you were doing? What’s the romantic Valentine’s Day that you will always remember?

What we did on Valentine’s Day

We spent the morning fucking, so we didn’t get on the road until after 1pm, nearly 2. “America’s Oldest Winery” was only about a two-hour drive from New York City, and they had a Valentine Special – a chocolate truffle pairing with their 6-wine tasting menu.

It was a surprise, for Kristen.

I prepped for the mini-road-trip as if I was on the West Coast, old habits I suppose. Most drives over there were six or eight hours, or at least four or five, so I am used to gathering games, books to read aloud, mixed roadtrip CDs, snacks not bought at a gas station. (What I’m saying is, I overplanned.)

I’d asked her to wear a short skirt, and lipstick. She added a garter, over-the-knee thin socks, heels. Her lipstick is sticky and bright. I want it to last, and avoid kissing her for the longest short drive I’ve been on in ages (which takes a lot of willpower, let me tell you).

Arriving too late for the tour, we settle easily into the tasting, even befriend the unimpressed gay boy couple next to us. Sparkling whites, whites, reds, then dessert wines – blanc du blanc, a dry and a sweet riesling, pinot noir, cabernet sauvignon, the winery’s signature mariage (my favorite and of course the most expensive), port, sherry. They even let us try a bit of mead. It was a wonderful time.

Kristen is tipsy. I am less so, as I am driving (and many pounds heavier). After buying a half-case and carting it to the car, we strategize: I’d planned to bring us to a local cafe for something to eat.

“You know when I drink there’s only one thing on my mind,” Kristen says, sliding her arms under my leather jacket as we stood next to her car.

“Can I mess up your lipstick yet?” I ask, mouth close to hers.

She gives me that shy, sly look. “I’m not sure I want it all over your mouth.”

I clear my throat. “So. Want to go get lost and … park … somewhere?”

“Yes.” She answers before I even finish my sentence.

I open her door, then go around to the driver’s side and start the car.

I don’t want us to be so lost that we (and by we, I mean I) can’t navigate back, but I want off the main roads. I take a few turns, a few long stretches of houses getting farther and farther apart, until there is a small pull-off and I take it, put the car in park, cut the engine, push my seat back, get my cock out.

(There might’ve been some conversation in there too. I’m cutting to the good parts.)

She leans in to kiss me. lets her heels slide off her stockinged feet, and peels her panties down her legs, leaving them on the floor.

“I want to feel that pretty mouth of yours,” I whisper. I grab the back of her head and our lips nearly touch, but not yet, I can feel the lipstick, slick, just barely.

“Not on your mouth,” she says again, shifting a little in her seat to be further on her knees.

Oh my god. Can I even explain how hot she is in moments like this? Eyes all alive and dancing, mouth thick and lips parted just a tad, I want to feel her everywhere. Suddenly this car seems like a bad idea, why didn’t I get a hotel? Or race back to the city to be in my bed with her?

She lowers her mouth onto my cock slow, torturously slow, just her tongue on the tip of it, running along the underside. Kristen is the best I’ve ever seen, paying soft attention to all the sensitive places, taking her time, swallowing it all only after she gets me good and hard, then getting it so slick with spit and sucking in and out with vigor. I’m groaning unselfconsciously, alone and on our own and not afraid to be loud.

I pull her off me when her lipstick is all gone and bring my mouth to hers. Her lips are thick and soft.

“Oh, goddamn,” I gasp, a little breathless. “You are so good at that. So good at sucking my cock, oh my god.”

She kisses me, hard, and pulls back. “I’m not done yet,” she says in that playful whispery girl tone.

I groan. God. Language barely working in my mind. I kiss her again and take the back of her head into my palm, shove her down. “Do it then.”

She moans a little, surprised, gasping, and picks up right where she left off, cock on the back of her tongue, far. I can feel every sweet slick place in her. I work my fingers under the straps of my harness; my clit is as hard as my cock and I roll it gently, savoring, mimicking the way her mouth goes up and down. She makes it all wet and runs her tongue on the shaft, kisses it.

I try not to thrash around in the driver’s seat, but I let myself be loud. No one around except the occasional approach and disappearance of headlights, but surely they can’t see inside, it’s getting darker and the windows are nearly fogged.

I pull her up by her hair and the back of her head again and kiss her, hard. She’s gasping a little, swallowing the saliva in her mouth. “I want you on top of me,” I say, reaching for her.

“Yes yes yes,” she whispers, like a moan. She shifts in her seat and steps across the gear shift to straddle me, short short skirt revealing the curves of her ass, tall socks still held up with the garters.

I hold my cock still as she guides it in, takes the pace and starts rocking her hips nearly right away. Moaning. Hands on the seat next to my shoulders as mine are on her thighs, around her waist, reaching for her ass, spreading her open wider.

She feels so good like this, wrapped around me.

Something she does when she’s on top of me makes me yell with the intensity: a way she moves her hips which feels so deep, so far inside her. I don’t even know how to explain it in writing, it’s so physical, visceral, sometimes blooming and growing in my core and connecting to hers.

I let the waves of it swell and crest and break, rising back in me strong. Hard to move my hips when I’m under her, but it’s easier if I get a grip on her waist, I can get leverage to thrust against. Pressing up into her I lengthen my legs, squeeze my thighs together, feet reaching all the way behind the car’s pedals to the floor, which feels great, adds an extra surface to push against. She curls around me, spine moving in an S shape, mouth open, her hands on my shoulders, then arms around my neck. Gasping and moaning, oh yeah fuck me deep baby, that’s how I like it, you know how to give it to me, god that feels so good …

(Sounds cliche to write it all in a row like that, but oh she says it so sexy.)

I reach for her and kiss her, hard. We’re both breathing hard and the kiss gives us momentary pause to catch our breaths and calm ourselves. I am nearly laughing with the hum of sensation and connection, and she sighs, breathes, gives a low satisfied mmmm, and leans back, awkwardly at first but then she hits the steering wheel and gets some distance between our bodies, still rubbing against my cock, and puts her fingers on her clit.

She’s close, she’s been close for minutes, maybe she’d even already come once or twice, she’s almost always close in that multiply-orgasmic way (if only one could learn how to do that) and as soon as she starts flicking her clit gently I can feel her body shudder, hips twitch and pussy clench down so tight she nearly pushes me out of her.

I loose track easily of how many times she comes. Sometimes I can tell and it’s big and obvious, sometimes it’s small and I don’t even stop, just keep going, and she comes over and over, no way for me to discern a number.

She leans back onto me and works her hips up and down again, for longer this time, and I thrust up into her and push so hard I nearly scream with the pressure and intensity. I want to feel what it’s like to come inside her. I want to feel her tightening around me, really feel it.

After ten, twenty, thirty? minutes like this, after I grip her hips and pump her up and down on my cock, after she comes again, and again, I wrap my arms around her and we quiet. She nestles into my shoulder and neck and hums that low, satisfied hum as she catches her breath. I trail my fingers along her neck and shoulders and back, hold her close.

“We steamed up the windows completely,” Kristen says. “Hey, I bet there are stars out there! We’re in the country!”

“Want to go look?”

“Yeah!” We get out of the car and I cross over to the passenger side. She’s shivering as soon as she exits the warm interior, it’s chilly out here and pitch black, plus her legs are practically bare, just the socks and garters and still no panties. Her skirt has hiked up a little from all of our fucking and my hands go to her ass, peeking out from under the hem, so cute. It’s too cloudy to see stars. I kiss her instead.

“I want to bend you over something and smack your ass a while when we get home,” I say. “Feel your ass as it gets all warm, then hot, and pink …”

“Yes,” she says, curling into me, kissing me again, “can we do that? Please?”

“You’d like that, huh.”

“Yes, yes.”

Somehow, we went from talking about it, to doing it, and she is bent over the hood of the car. “It’s cold,” she complained.

Yeah, shut up and get hit, I mutter. (She didn’t hear me.)

Cars zip by us. It’s dark but we are right in their headlights. I don’t know what they can see, but I stop smacking and just hold her or palm her ass as they go by, then quickly swat her again when they pass. She’s relaxed, she can take a lot; I let my hand come down again and again until her cheeks get warm under my hand and her knees start to shake. The backs of her thighs are cold to the touch, but I don’t want to let up. I dip my hand between her legs to find her wet, open, and slide my fingers in, fuck her right there, in the open, next to her car just off the road as she’s bent over it.

When she comes, again, god does she ever get worn out?, her knees start to buckle and she starts sinking to the ground against the car. I keep my knee up under her thighs and one arm around her stomach as my hand works inside and against her clit, harder, shoving hard into her, against her, until she’s spent and moaning, breathing hard.

It’s cold, we’re both cold by this point, but blissed out, wrapping ourselves into each other and laughing, smiling, playing. We get back into the car, I get out the hummus, wasabi rice crackers, rosemary crackers, delicious buttery brie, and gruyere that I’d brought and we snack, decide to head back into the city and get dinner when we get there. Someone mentioned Thai food earlier at the wine tasting and so I crave going to Song in Brooklyn.

We’re famished, and eat until satisfied, still buzzing from the good wine and seeing stars from the sex. I slide the driver’s seat forward again, put the car in drive, and make my way back to the highway, returning to New York City.

Want to win a Come Together Gift Basket?

cometogether2

Valentine’s Day is coming up quick. I know, I know, we only just finished the winter holidays, but it’s true, it’ll be here way before I’m prepared for it, I’m sure.

It’s a stressful one … don’t get me wrong, I’m a romantic, I love making wonderful little gift things that are sweet and romantic and red & pink for this (cheesy) holiday. And then there’s the whole S.A.D. thing – Single’s Awareness Day – where we shouldn’t discriminate against those who aren’t partnered! Right? Right. Oh it’s a challenging holiday.

So hey, let’s do a little give-away, shall we?

Come Together Gift Baskets specializes in sexy, sensual gift baskets made for lesbians by lesbians. These are perfect for saying, “Thank you,” “I love you,” “I want to see you again,” “Happy Anniversary,” or “I’d really like to tie you to the bedpost and have my way with you.” The majority of our products come from woman-owned companies who do not participate in animal testing.

(I’m pretty fond of the Rescue Me basket, myself.)

The fabulous queers behind this site have offered up the controversial (their word, not mine) I Kissed a Girl gift basket, which includes:

Soy Massage Candle
Massage Oil
Lip Butter
Lips Pillow
Silver Bullet Vibrator

Perfect for Valentine’s Day! Give it to your sweetie, or keep it as a lovely gift to yourself!

So: here’s whatchoo gotta do to win this bad girl:

Leave a comment in this post that tells me either:

– The best gift you’ve ever received in the mail
– A fabulous Valentine’s day present you received
or
– Your ideal perfect Valentine’s day gift

Winner will be chosen from the comments randomly on Friday, January 30th.

Three … two … one … go!