First Time With Daddy, Guest Post by Kimberly Dark (Excerpt from The Daddies)

excerpt from The Daddies by Kimberly DarkBrill | Sense (October 24, 2018)
Content: Sex, daddy/girl language, bondage. All characters are 18 years of age or older.

I am interested in finding out what she means. She is articulate and open with a confident stance. She is tall, not particularly attractive, grey-blue eyes and ruddy white skin. Her hair is fluffy, not quite curly, as though it carries its own small wind. Still, she seems strong; she speaks with curiosity and good grammar. She has good posture. These things attract me. I react. I am a spasming muscle; she is the stimulant. We flirt – in that ambiguous way that can never convict us.

I meet her at a university where I am giving a talk. I am the expert on gender for this evening. She is in attendance. It could be any city, any university – but it isn’t. I used to live in this city – Colorado Springs. I have a history here, finished my undergraduate work at this very campus. I have connections here – and here she is, connecting to me.

After my talk on gender roles, she lingers to question, to hold my gaze, to touch my elbow in conversation as we walk together to the parking lot after the event. I want to know what she means when she says, “There are complexities to this butch/femme thing that I wonder how much you know about. Some things I don’t know who to talk to about. The sexual identities…” She pauses, and then continues. “I don’t know how much you know about the leather community …”

She pauses again. It wasn’t really a question; she intended to continue all along.

“In the leather community, I am a Daddy. But because I pass for femme, I don’t get much recognition, much respect. And I think, I could change my appearance, but I don’t want to. I like to be soft too.”

She seems to read my attentive silence, renegotiates her admissions and adds, “but you know, I also used to be a bottom, and I looked a little more butch then.”

This admission is unique – her timing, bold. I am nodding, pondering the creation of balance between appearance and behavior. I could say, “You’re so big and strong, so forward and in control of this conversation. I think you have the credibility of a Daddy, despite the long hair, the eyeliner.”

I don’t say this. I think it. Fascinating. And so it begins, an academic discourse. She is a seeker. I am a teacher. She is a Daddy. I enjoy a considered submission. And so it begins. She watches me, listens, responds, leans in. She uses the same tools of communication I use: disclosure, analysis, physical openness, negotiation, and re-negotiation.

Later, about 5 a.m., I ponder how she presented herself to me. I agreed to have coffee with her, so I will interview us both further on this theme. To what, in me, was she responding, in order to create this response in me? She is remarkably skillful, or perhaps, I don’t know that I am an easy mark for this sort of intellectual and erotic tension. I am an easy mark for curiosity about what “leather daddy” means to her, and how she does that role – what “femme” and “passing” mean to her – what “bottom” means to her.

A few years later, we are lovers – more than lovers – we are something like family. She asks me, “How did the Daddy thing start with us? Did you ask me for it?”

I stare, incredulous. “You brought it up the first time we met.”

“Right, but we were just talking about it. How did we get around to doing it? I mean, we were lovers for a few months before that came up.” She wobbles her hand around the word that, assigning it indescribable meaning.

I am fascinated that she really doesn’t remember, that she really doesn’t know what she chose in me, the first time she laid eyes on me. We have had time to think about this. I have thought about this, but apparently she hasn’t. I don’t recall my exact words – how I gave her permission to do what she did for the first time, but I know I gave permission – the soft, steady reassurance that a violation would be allowed, appreciated.

She stood on the balcony smoking her pipe, watching the light retreat over the city skyline. She was wearing her black bathrobe over her white boxer-briefs – the snug kind that keep the soft-pack in place, hug the thighs, the gluteal muscles. (“I’m developing an ass like a Clydesdale fucking you as much as we do,” she chuckled once, admiring her rear in the mirror.) She stood alone, smoking against the pink sky. We’d been lovers for a few months, but tonight, something was different. Before she walked out, she held me for a kiss, made sure I felt her cock, soft but assertive, against my pelvis.

She was quiet, and felt somehow unapproachable, enjoying her pipe in the warm night air. She was quiet and yet, entirely legible to me and I knew not to say much. I knew to wait patiently. I already loved her and had already begun making sacrifices. I tingled with anticipation that her inflexible ways would soon reward me.

I became small and quiet, a transformation prompted by her rigidity, prompted by my permission, prompted by her assertion, and prompted by my invitation. We fell like dominos, a brutal, beautiful cascade. With a different entitlement in her hands, she felt my breasts, held me around the waist and pulled me in. She kissed me differently, her tongue so deep down my throat, I couldn’t breathe for a moment and I liked it – knew not to speak of it, but I liked it. “Go get in bed, sweet girl. Take off your clothes and wait for me.” She patted my ass and I turned from her, obedient.

I saw moments of her, through the bedroom door, emptying her pipe, methodically stowing it away, washing her hands, and brushing her teeth. My skin tingled beneath the sheet. I saw her change the soft dick for the hard one, long and black, protruding beneath the bathrobe. This part was nothing new, but something was new – and I knew not to speak of it. She joined me in bed. I was on my back, her body next to me. She was propped on one elbow, gentle but assertive, touching my breasts, my belly with tender fingers, pulling me in occasionally for a hard penetrating kiss. The mutuality of our passion suspended, I became shy and waited, thrilled and a bit frightened – could I do it? Was she going to do it? We’d been talking more and more about Daddy. Still abstract, still talking. I could feel it coming. Could I? Stay present and genuine, really do it?

Deep breath. Let the body decide. Breathe. The body is deciding.

Her soft hand still on my breast, she leaned toward my ear and asked, “Are you going to give your Daddy what he wants?”

As she spoke, my throbbing thickened, slipped. The body is deciding. “Uh-huh.” I managed, and my willing embarrassment, face flushing, fueled her. She was on top of me in an instant, her hand holding my wrists above my head and pushing down, hard. I had neither the strength nor will to move and a fear of both truths fluttered gently in my stomach, the sensation drowned out by my slickening need. Her tongue down my throat, my wrists aching beneath her significant strength, she straddled me, pressed her hard cock against my belly. Her body held my legs shut.

“Daddy’s cock is going to be too big for you. Is that going to be okay?” She was speaking into my ear, between kisses. I managed a whimper and she said with a small chuckle, “That’s right, it’s going to be just fine. And afterward, when Daddy’s all done. When I’ve taken all I want, I’ll kiss you better.” She gently kissed my forehead. “I’ll clean you up with my tongue, where I hurt you. I’ll take care of you because every part of you is perfect. Every part of you is mine.” She kissed my cheek and released my wrists with a stern look and said, “Don’t move now.”

Indeed, my wrists were still bound.

My eyes wide, no words, the mind reeled briefly with astonishment. Could she not have started a little slower with the Daddy-thing? But I could feel the answer in her touch. It was too big. She was going all-in. And I would take it just as she gave it. The body was deciding.

She gently knelt between my legs and spread them. “That’s my good girl,” she said, gazing at my glisten. “Legs up,” she said. I obeyed and as she nestled down onto my body, she put one arm around my back and held me, tighter than she’d ever held me, more lovingly than I’d ever felt her. The other hand found her cock, so she could move into me slowly, her forehead against my sternum, she was feeling every moment of her entry. Her first, in a way. She said, “I’m going to go slow at first, but because you’re so good, I won’t be able to hold back once I get started.” And in she went, little by little, “Are you my good girl?” And I was nodding against her head. “That’s so good. You are my good girl.”

And my mind was lost, belly fluttering. Already all in. My body was choosing this. My body was saying yes in every language it knew and she was listening so attentively. It was bringing her so much pleasure; I couldn’t conceive how exponentially mine was multiplied. How could I not have known this joy before? Her pleasure was amplifying and the mind went deaf in the soaring sound of it. Her fierceness and release became one and I felt the holiness of it. How could I not have known?

As soon as she pulled back and pushed all the way in, her restraint was spent. She was talking, as she started moving faster, not an apology, but an explanation. Not a request for permission, but a surety, a deservingness that was so beautiful, so beautiful, my mind was blinded by it. “Oh yes, good girl, that’s it. Remember, I’ll kiss it better after.” She said as she fucked me harder. “That’s it. I know it’s big, but you’re doing so good. It’s so good.”

I had to have something to hold onto. And though afraid of breaking the invisible restraints her hands had put upon my wrists, my arms sailed down and I wrapped around Daddy’s thick back and she moved to accommodate. Her one hand around my left breast, squeezing hard for leverage, the other arm still holding me close and solid, she affirmed me. She did not admonish my move to hold her. She affirmed it.

“That’s a good girl. Hold onto your Daddy while I fuck you.” Accommodating my need, she said, “You hold on.” And a warm, tingling light spread through my body, emanating from my pussy, emanating from her piercing. The point of her pounding ready to supernova, she was within herself and still with me. She was within her own pleasure, yet spurred by mine.

“Daddy needs to fuck you hard now, princess,” she said and how could it be any harder? I didn’t know, and everything felt right. I wanted to please my Daddy more than anything, more than anything and my body was choosing. My pelvis was tipping forward to give her all I could and then I had to hold on. The impact was so great, I had to hold on. I had never been fucked so hard before and she was commanding, “You take all of your Daddy.”

And I was screaming, “Yes!” And filling up. “Yes!” I had never felt so full of love before. “Yes!” Her anguish overflowed into joy, and I contained it all. I didn’t spill a drop of Daddy.

And by the time she was done closing my wound with her tongue, licking up her come and mine too, so no one would see, I was exhausted and wordless. I would’ve made my fortune on the business of sleep, if she hadn’t awakened my drifting, her eyes blinking at the ceiling, chewing her lip with worry.

“What is it, baby?” I said when I sensed the shift. I expected the post-Daddy-sex trauma to be mine. She had done this before with a lover. I had not. I was frightened by her urgency, looking for the right answers when she asked, “What do you think about what we just did.”

“It was good.” I offered, dumbstruck by the experience itself, this question, too much.

“Because you know, that’s not just sex for me.” She sat up, cross-legged on the bed, searching my face. I felt suddenly exposed, any move might be wrong and I knew no matter what we called it, I could not lose her. Right then I knew: I would do way too much not to lose her.

“I know.” I said, and I sat up too.

“No, I don’t know if you know.” She was shaking her head. “We have to talk about this, have a talk. Because we’ve been having good sex for the last few months, but that’s not just about sex for me.” She said that with bulging eyes and an emphatic glance toward where my body had lain. She continued. “I mean, I don’t know how that was for you. But for me, right now is the time to decide. We can still say ‘okay, we tried that out and we’re never doing it again.’”

My mind reeled. I had no words yet to discuss what we had just done – no words at all – and now something had to be decided? I chose words carefully and each felt like a failure in my mouth. “If you don’t want to do that anymore with me, it’s okay.”

Perhaps she saw the confusion in my eyes. “But you wanted it?” she asked.

“Yes, I was there with you.” I said, holding her gaze.

“I know you were,” she said simply. “But you have to be sure, because if I go there, it’s all the time. It’s not just sex for me. It’s all the time. It’s in our lives.” She was nodding while she was speaking. “It’s big. For both of us.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I crawled across the big bed toward her seated form. I crawled into her lap as best I could and I felt her worry soften.

“Yes.” I said.

She held me, and rocked me a little bit, soothing herself as much as me, I think. She kissed my forehead and we were silent for a time. Before she loosened her hold on me, she said, “Okay?”

I reiterated. “Yes.”

The gentle teacher, she added, “And you say, ‘Yes Daddy.’”

My whole body tingled. And I whispered it into her ear.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Get your own copy of The Daddies by Kimberly Dark, published by Brill | Sense

Will Anyone Else Want Strap-On Sex the Way I Do?

You might be worried that you love strap on sex too much.

You might be worried that you won’t find someone who wants to receive strap-on sex as often as you want to strap on. In general, as we get more aware of what our particular sexual interests are, it can seem like what we want becomes harder to find.

Which is true — we’re narrowing down what we want, so that means there are fewer things out there that will match our wants. But what’s also true is that our chances of being satisfied are getting higher and higher, because we better know ourselves and what we want.

In addition, we’re getting more specific with what we want, which actually means what we’re looking for becomes easy to find. If we’re looking for “someone to have sex with,” sure, there are lots of people who might fit into that scenario, but just anybody willing to have sex might not actually make for a satisfying time.

Getting more specific about our desires gets us more likely to get what we want, and also more likely to have a satisfying experience.

A Little Personal Story …

As I was coming into my own as a cock-centric person, I was worried that my interest wouldn’t match up with anyone else’s. I wanted to be strapped on when I had sex at least ninety percent of the time, and I didn’t know anybody who wanted that the same way I did.

I got a lot of push-back from other queer women I was dating at the time. One person even told me that if she wanted to have sex “like that,” meaning with some sort of penetrative instrument, she’d have sex with a man.

Associating strapping on with any particular gender is not only untrue, it deeply limits our abilities to explore and experiment with what our bodies do and the ways we can connect and play through sex. Wanting to play with penetrative sex, whether with fingers, a factory-installed penis, or a strapped on appendage, has nothing to do with gender and can be enjoyed — or rejected — by anyone of any gender. A few of the most cock-centric people that I know are high femmes, and I know a few gay men who do not want penetrative sex, giving or receiving, at all.

It took me some time to feel comfortable owning how frequently I wanted my sexual experiences to include me strapped on. It took talking to my friends, talking to lovers, and talking to other sex-positive educators to feel like I wasn’t the only one who wanted that, and to trust that I wasn’t a weird pervert freak because of it. It took trusting that someone was out there who wanted equal-but-opposite thing I wanted — for their partner to be strapped on for ninety percent of their sex life. It took experimenting and playing and being open about what I wanted.

Eventually, it has become one integral part of my personal sexuality, and if I was talking to a new potential sexual partner, it is something I would screen for.

On Stereotypes

It might seem like lesbians or queer women have rejected penetrative sex, because they are not attracted to men. It might seem like straight men would not be interested in being pegged, because they are heterosexual.

But liking the sensation of penetration and one’s sexual orientation are not the same thing. In all of my travels and coaching and teaching of strap-on technique, I have met with thousands of people, and I assure you: plenty of queer women enjoy penetration, and plenty of straight men enjoy pegging, and plenty of nonbinary folks and genderqueer folks of all kinds of genders enjoy things in their holes.

It might seem like you are looking for something that doesn’t exist, but I assure you: it does! You may have to just take it on faith for a little while, but if you look around and be open about the kind of sex life you want, you will find people who want the same things you do.

There are many, many people out there who want to receive. They might be looking for you, and thinking you’re hard to find, just as much as you are looking for them.

Take My Whip: Fantasy Date Night, Guest Post by rife

It’s Friday night and we keep this night blocked off on the calendar. 5:30 rolls around and you send me around the block to walk the dog once I wrap up my work for the day. When I come back, you’re sitting on the porch in your jeans with the leather crotch, a tight new black t shirt and the chest harness. All the deck furniture has been pushed off to the side and your Bluetooth speaker is playing a mixture of jazz and romantic pop music. You are wearing your heavy harness boots and you let your goatee grow out a little.

I giggle, suddenly feeling underdressed in my daytime pajamas and sneakers. I prance over and get up on my toes to kiss you. You let me. “Hi, Daddy! What’s all this?”

“I’m taking you dancing, boy. Go get dressed.”

“Mmmhm. I mean, yes, Sir.” I say softly and pad inside to feed the dog and put on that slinky grey dress you like and my combat boots with the soles that have worn down to slick nothing and the chain wrist cuffs that match my collar that you like to see on me. I wash the work day off my face and scrub dry until I’m pink.

You raise an eyebrow at my outfit choice but you’re smiling underneath it.

We dance for days and days on the porch as night falls and the bats come out to play. Sometimes the tempo is slow and our feet barely remember to shuffle while we kiss with lots of tongue and you run your fingers through my fresh soft buzz cut. The smell of wisteria finds its way to us across the breeze and if our neighbors see us, they pretend not to.

Sometimes the tempo is faster and you throw me across the boards in controlled chaos. It takes every ounce of concentration to just follow, to listen for the cues in your palm on my back, to remind myself of the rock step-triple-step beat, to give over to the music and your direction. There are moments when it is effortless and we are just flying, one creature.

Finally it is fully dark and you press me back against the one oak tree, breathless and sweaty on the warm summer night. Ed Sheeran or some other sensitive white guy is still crooning on but all I can feel is your dick hard against the fly of your jeans against me.

You press me hard enough that I’m sure the rough bark will leave marks, pinning my hands over my head, looping the chains around my wrists into that hook that usually holds the wind chime. I’m impressed by your forethought but the nation is quickly swept away my your hands doubled up on either side of my rib cage, stroking the length of me up and down from exposed armpits to the bottom curve of each hip. I shiver and swoon under your firm big hands that make me feel so small. You inch the bottom of the dress up teasingly slowly. I really hope the neighbors aren’t watching now.

Just when I can feel myself start to squirm and rub my thighs together anxious of the wetness I can feel coming on… you pull back. I whimper a little and sigh involuntarily, which of course is what you want.

“Not now, pet. You’re going to wait.”

“Mmmrf. I mean, yes, Sir.”

Inside, we make pizzas — yours pesto and salami with a cauliflower crust, mine sourdough and jalapeños and onion. They are delicious, but I am distracted thinking of the packer still between your legs. After dinner you tell me to ignore the kitchen mess and follow you, so I do.

You strip my dress off like someone who has done it a hundred times before and nod approvingly at what is revealed: just mounds of tight exposed flesh with no underwear. I feel you press up against me from behind and your arm wraps around my throat.

“You’re going to take my whip, boy, and then you’re going to take my dick.”

“Mmmmmm… ! I mean, yes, Sir.”

The wood of the coffee table is shockingly cold at first and my nipples flinch against it, but I relax into it as you layer gentle strokes with your big fat deerskin flogger all across my back. I moan despite myself as you ramp up in intensity and land a few solid strikes across the curve where ass meets thighs. You always were a leg person.

You pause to lean over me and grow into my ear. “Mmm, beautiful. Good boy. Ten more. Count for me.”

This time, I do not hesitate. “Yes, Sir.”

You step back but your fingers trail across my reddening back like it pains you to be separated. I can still feel the energy of you reach out to me across the room.

Until it is concentrated into a fiery pinprick of the kiss of your single tail.

“One, Sir.”

I try to remind myself it is just sensation. I try to erase pain from my vocabulary and just feel it. Easier said than done.

“Two, Sir. Three, Sir. Oh…! Four, Sir.”

Now we are both flying, drunk on your power. You push me harder to see if you can draw blood and break in this whip. Make it bound to me like i am to you.

The lash falls hot across my shoulder and i squirm hard, but the trickle raised is just sweat.

“Five, Sir..!”

You love me but you quiet that part of yourself with reserve to get what you want. No, it’s not want. You will be nice later. You need blood.

“Fuck! Six, Sir. Seven! Ah!”

I squeak out with difficulty eight and nine. You tell me a hundred times i am a good boy for taking it so nice and it lands every time.

Finally the warm droplets are pooling for you and you can feel your dick hard and straining in your jeans. You laugh aloud as i flinch hard out of habit while you barely tease me with number ten.

“Ten, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

You run the tails and your fingertips over my back and ass, drawing in the red, savoring my flinching as you pass over the already raised welts. My breath is heaving and so is yours, in time, I think.

In a moment your fly is open and you are crammed against me, sliding in easily to the hilt of your open jeans. You pull my hips back into you with both hands and groan as you start thrusting slow and deep the length of you. You wrap your hands around my face and shove your fingers hard against my tongue. You are growling a steady stream of filthy words but my brain isn’t even processing it anymore. I am overwhelmed by you.

“Fuck, that’s so nice. That’s right. You just take it for me, you little whore. That’s Daddy’s slut. Unh, you feel so good. So tight baby. Daddy’s going to give it to you. Fuck…!!!”

I guess I came too, because the next thing I remember: I am in a puddle, dripping into the carpet and high and there is no pain anymore.

You scoop me up and guide me into the shower, lather down my dully aching back with peppermint soap and wrap me in your big soft Daddy robe.

We eat Girl Scout cookies and watch Steven Universe until I fall asleep on your shoulder.

Feeling Yourself: Getting Acquainted With Your New Strap On

So you bought a strap on harness and dildo — great! Exciting! Congratulations on choosing from the dozens of excellent products that are out there, and I hope it’s everything you wanted and more.

Ready to use it?

Sometimes, the distance between bringing the new toy home and actually using it with another person be a lot. Some of that might just be scheduling, and carving out the time for you and someone else to get sexy and lube up.

But some of it is fear, anxiety, or nervousness — and that can be harder to correct for. Sometimes our minds create barriers when there is none, even if — or perhaps especially if — it’s something we really want. If we don’t try, we don’t fail. We remain safer. But, in kink, and in sex toys and pleasure, taking a risk is very often where the pleasure is.

So perhaps it’s good to root out what kind of fear is happening. Actually listen to those voices in your head the next time they show up and rage at you: What if I screw up? What if I look ridiculous? What if I don’t know what I’m doing? What if I freeze? What if it slips out and I keep going and don’t notice because I can’t feel it? What if I like it, like, really a lot?

Just listen, and see what they’re saying. If it works to reason with yourself, you might be able to counter some of the concerns with facts or likelihood, but often, those kinds of voices don’t really run on fact-based logic, so it might not help.

And ya know, the fears might be founded. Some of those things might turn out to be true — but with time, and more confidence, and more experience, not only will there be less fear, but there will be more ability to shake off whatever potentially embarrassing things happen.

So. Let’s go.

Experiment with some of these things and see what feels best for you. These aren’t in any order, and they might not all work for you. That’s cool — just take what helps, & leave the rest.

And please — add your own ideas, if you have suggestions, in the comments.

1. Set It Up

First things first: Get it out of the packaging. Wash it thoroughly with mild soap and water. Sanitize it, if you like, by wiping it down with 10% bleach and 90% water, or running it through the dishwasher in the top shelf with no soap, or by boiling for a couple minutes.

Follow the directions about the harness that you bought and do a quick once-over clean of it. You don’t need to wash it in the washing machine, if it is machine-washable, or do a whole leather-safe soap and coat of oil, but you might want to wipe it down with a damp cloth.

It’s not so much because they are “dirty” and you should be worried about how they’ve been packaged so much as it’s about getting to know it’s care and feeding.

Depending on the harness you purchased, and what kind of body you have, you might also want to trim some of the excess off of your leg straps. Some of them come extra-long so to accommodate all kinds of body shapes, but if your body has been about the same size for a while, it’s probably safe for you to customize it to you, and trim it to fit. Assuming you’re not going to share it, of course.

2. Put It On

Yep, just put it on. Take some time for yourself and put it all the way on. Wear it around the house. Do the dishes. Answer some email.

You don’t have to stay in it too long — though it is useful to figure out where the harness might chafe, where the weight of the dildo pulls the harness, and how easily the straps slip. Plus, it’s excellent practice for putting it on and taking it off, for figuring out the fastest way to get the buckle and straps all in the right places, and for how to beat get it off.

Experiment with some different things to see what works best.

That means: put it on and wear it around a few times, not just once!

3. Get to Know It – aka, Masturbate, Masturbate, Masturbate

Jerk off with it! Read erotica, watch porn, or just let your mind wander. Thinking about the use of your strap on will help it be realistic, feel more like a part of you, and maybe even give you some insight about the kind of fantasies you might enjoy.

Take it in your hand and explore it. Imagine yourself feeling down into every inch of it, down all the way to the tip. When you touch it with your fingers, feel it where your fingertips meet it, but also try to feel it from the inside. Try a little harder. Strain for the feeling. You might find it more sensate than you expected.

Belladonna has a porn series called Strapped Dykes that could be inspiring, and of course there’s the Crash Pad series. Say Please and Best Lesbian Erotica 2012 have some of my favorite strap on stories in them. Give those a try.

4. Expand Your Proprioception

“Proprioception” is the felt sense of the edges of your body, and it’s changeable, possible to incorporate inanimate objects into your sense of yourself.

For example, consider when you’re wearing a big backpack. For a little while, for most of us, we will knock into things somewhat awkwardly when we first put it on. But if we wear it for a while, we can develop an expanded awareness and start to sense how far out behind us and to the side that it extends.

Same thing happened with driving a new car, or a bicycle.

This can happen with a strap on — or a whip, a flogger, a paddle — too.

Keep feeling into it. Keep trying it on and playing with it, feeling it in your body. It can take time, but it’s possible.

Add your own ideas, if you have suggestions, in the comments.

Thanks!

Plus Size Pegging: A Longer Dildo & Comfortable Harness

My wife and I have been dabbling in pegging. She has mentioned to me that the harness is uncomfortable and that it would probably be better if we found a longer dildo, because we are a bit on the plus size. Currently we have a 6”, 7”, and 8”, so I’m thinking 10 or 12 “ length would be fine. I have looked for longer dildos but have come up empty handed and not real sure the best route to take in this hunt.

Any suggestion on a website or a product that could help us out? Thanks.
— C

Sure, I’ve got a few recommendations for you.

You’re totally right about a longer dildo. You have an 8″ already? Most of the ones made with high quality silicone don’t get too much longer than 8. SheVibe.com has some, but primarily Doc Johnson brand — which are usually made from very poor materials and have that very strong plastic off-gassing smell.

One of the high quality ones is Gambler by Vixen Creations. It’s gorgeous — and huge! 11″ long, 3″ circumference. It’s kind hard to tell just how big it is by the photos on their site & other sites.

(Maybe someone will send me one so that I can take some photos for you with comparable objects for size … hint.)

But honestly — that one might be too big!

Here’s another: try Leroy, from New York Toy Collective — It’s 9.5″ long, 2.5″ wide, so it’s pretty big. Duo-density, which means it has a hard core but a soft squishy outside, so it’s not like plastic so much as a toy. Plus the inner core is ‘posable’ so it can bend and stay in place. New York Toy Collective gives $5 off with code SUGARBUTCH.

As far as harnesses go: the one you want, in my opinion, is the Joque by SpareParts.

the Joque harness by SpareParts

They have a size A that goes to 50″ waist and a size B to a 65″ waist. It’s stretchy and comfortable, more like wearing underwear, and gives a lot of tight control — more than the panty-style ones. Which also means the straps are wider and softer, so it doesn’t dig in to squishy parts like other harnesses do. It comes in some colors (red, black, purple) if the black is too boyish. It velcros, which makes it really easy to step into and you don’t have to fuss with buckles. It’s also easy to wash in the washing machine.

The Joque is jock-strap style, meaning it has two straps that go under the butt, not in between the butt cheeks. They do have a thong-style version, too, called Theo.

Hope that helps!

A Moaning Mess of a Girl, Guest Post by Kiki DeLovely

I wake with a start, reaching for my phone. 5:35am. Shit, which way is it again? Could be either 2:35 or 8:35 where you’re at. This should be quick and easy math in my head but I keep going back and forth between adding the threes for you and subtracting them for me. Both of these options seem like impossible times in my hazy, dream-laden mind. Subtract the three. Yes, it’s definitely subtraction on my end. But it doesn’t matter. Both of these preposterous times mean that you’re probably asleep…and I unquestionably ought to be as well. I roll over and barely have a minute of self-indulgent pouting before I realize something is vibrating in my hand.

“Good morning, gorgeous.”

I blush, curling into a tiny ball, beaming into the phone. Your voice is cracked, raspy with slumber heavy on your tongue, honey to my ears. My lugubrious lips quickly arc upwards, forming the sweetest smile.

“Good morning, handsome.”

“Do something for me.” You politely await my reply even though this favorite line of yours has long since ceased being a question. Really, more of a call and response because my answer is always the same:

“Anything.”

“Roll over. Touch yourself for me. Be a good girl for Daddy.”

I can tell from the tone in your voice how hard you are already. The desire drips from each slow syllable. And these few simple words have an immediate, palpable effect on my body. My clit began to throb before you completed that first sentence. My pussy quivers, glistening so soon. I can barely form words when you talk to me like that. You know how to make me so fucking shy. Delighting in it. Add to that my mounting orgasm and I’m a non-verbal, moaning mess of a girl. Lucky for me, you’re perfectly content to hear nothing but those inarticulate melodies as I come for you, writhing in between my crimson sheets. And then again.

My butch Daddy, your unique flavor of female masculinity and dominance was set to high heat the moment you laid eyes on me, stirred to a quick boil that first night we spent in your precariously lofted bed, bubbling up and spilling all over my body every day since. I feel blessed to witness you coming into your own so thoroughly, to get to experience it firsthand. Mmmm…your hands. How I long for them. So rough and strong, you never knew to have pride in them until I purred under your touch as you stroked them down my exposed back, cupping my ass. I cooed my craving into the curve of your neck, letting you know just how much the ascendancy of those hands turn me on. My femme instinct smelled the butch all over you long before you ever used the word to describe yourself. I sensed it burning inside of you, eagerly awaiting a femme like me to show you just how desirable female masculinity can be. To express how it’s one of the many parts of you I honor and cherish. To prove to you that I just can’t get enough. And even with all the distance between us now, we don’t let that get in our way. We simply search out other methods to stay connected.

Email, Facetime, mobile-to-mobile, texting (sexting), voicemail. Damn, you’ve got me going against everything I believe in. I detest technology. In all of its many, varied forms. Yet here I find myself. Sleeping with my phone turned on in case you call, sending endless fantasies on the tiniest keyboard until my thumbs cramp up, last night you even put me to bed over the computer. I normally resist sleeping in the same room with anything electronic, let alone something connected to wifi. But I’ll admit that the sound of your voice singing me to sleep and that of your shallow breathing when I awoke in the middle of the night was so sweetly comforting. And such a turn on. Instead of waking you though I let you sleep.

This time. Next time you’re going to be roused with quite the little show. I decide to pour all my mid-night lust into mid-day distractions that’ll make your hours at work fly by faster.

2:57pm. Subtract the three. Noon is just as good a time as any to get this started. Text is my weapon of choice today.

I lick my lips. Slowly. You groan, fighting hard against your instinctual impulses. My mouth is watering, Daddy. May I please give you a little kiss?

The minutes crawl by too slowly as I impatiently check my phone for the hundredth time. I want to keep going but I can’t. Not without your express permission. So I squirm around in my bed, jilling off lazily, feeling more and more desperate for your response. Proud of myself for only sending one frantic pleading message in the meantime as I wait out each of those torturous, interminable forty-seven minutes before you reply.

Lick your lips again and kiss Daddy.

I nearly come when you send me such lascivious demands. But I can’t be distracted now. My aim is to distract you.

 I bend forward and gradually lower my mouth. My pretty little mouth that you so love inching closer and closer to your hard-on, the tip of my tongue gliding across my upper lip. Looking up at you with big brown eyes, I pucker my lips and kiss the head of your cock. An electric volt of desire starts there, shooting straight through you, making your whole body jump.

The current running through your body is so intense that you don’t even notice until it’s too late that I’ve gone and gotten greedy, wrapping my hand around the base of your cock and going in for another kiss. Sans permission. Bad girl. It’s not until your feel the warmth of my lips opening a little wider this time that you realize. You feel the pressure of my tongue ease across the tip of your cock. Very bad girl. So you grab me by the back of my hair with such force that I cry out.

You drag me up and throw me down on the bed. Your patience was bound to break and I pushed you over the edge sooner than you’d have liked. So now I’m gonna get it. Fear and desire shine in my eyes, a lustful tempest in yours, as you shove my legs apart. You hear the lace of my panties ripping as you tear them to the side, not giving a fuck what you tear. You drive your cock into me, taking me rougher than ever before. Taking it all in one single thrust. Taking what’s yours.

I look down at my phone, grinning and gratified at having ruined you for the rest of your day.

*       *       *

I can feel my phone trill in my pocket but I’m in the middle of a story, surrounded by my family. Receiving anything from you while I’m around them makes me nervous. So I wait until an opportune moment presents itself to make my way to the bathroom. Closing the door while fumbling with the touch screen, I see the little red circle above “Mail” has increased in number many times over. Most of them are photos – which I love, don’t get me wrong, my eyes drinking in every pixel of you, the beauty you’ve encountered in your journeyings – but it’s your words that do me in:

I look into your eyes, your wanting eyes, and return the gaze with mine. Bending you over slowly, you grip your ankles for support as I take my cock in hand and place it between your legs. But I don’t go inside you, I don’t touch anything, actually. I hold it there beneath your pussy and wait, like waiting for raindrops. Opening your pussy with my right hand, I exhale with satisfaction. It is as I hoped. You are wet enough for this. Your wet is all over my cock now, dripping onto it as I hold it at your hole. It’s running up to your clit, it wants to make its way to your inner thighs. This. This is what I wanted. I pull away from you and run my hand all over your juices. All over me. I can feel it all over me.

These words go straight to my cunt and now I’m unbuttoning my jeans one-handedly, struggling to get to my clit fast enough. Fuck, I’m so fucking wet. Just like in your fantasy. Rereading it two and a half more times before I’m coming hard and fast, I wash my hands and rejoin my sisters, hoping they won’t smell how much I need you.

God, my jaw is aching. You make me too happy. The muscles in my cheeks are out of practice. It seems like my head is constantly thrown back these days – either in a fit of laughter or of passion. I suppose the jaw-ache could also be all the blow jobs I’ve been giving you. Still I can’t stop myself. I glance at the hands on the wall. Quarter to four. You’re off at 3:00pm today. Add the three. That gives me plenty of time to get myself going and leave you a voicemail.    

Before dialing yours, I call mine and search out my very favorite message. I want to be so close when I call so that nerves don’t take over and I’m actually able to orgasm. I know you’ll hear the difference if I don’t. Hitting the four, I replay your words once more. “That’s my good girl. Oh, I’m so close. Fuck. You get me so hard. I’m gonna take my cock out and come all over your pussy. Ohhh, I’m coming for you. Fuck. So fucking hard. All over you. Reach down and put that cum in your pussy now. Do it for me. Do it for me, babygirl. Shove it in with your fingers. Now rub it up all over your clit. You like that? I want my cum all over you.”

Despite being quite the filthy girl, I had never imagined myself getting off to such a thought. And you never dared dream a dyke would find your secret fantasies so arousing. Yet here we are. Reveling in every last drop. And you know my screams are genuine when you skip out of work early to take a listen. Leaving you throbbing the rest of the day.

I wake with a moan, clutching at the covers. You know I’m yours, all of me, so you’re allowed to take whatever you want, whenever you want it. And so you do. 4:44am. Subtract the three. You must be just getting home from your gig. Horny. We both sleep weird and few hours. Fewer and fewer since we first met. The unpredictable hours kept by a musician and a writer. Between band practice, random deadlines, my insomnia on top of yours, we’re lucky if either of us gets more than a few hours’ sleep at any given time. Still you can’t help yourself. Or rather, you do. You help yourself quite generously. There may be 2,818 miles between us, but I still know when you’re jacking off to me. You take me in my dreams, I awake with the sheets soaking wet.

I wake with a start, reaching for my laptop. 5:51am. I don’t bother with the math – it’s not you I need to write this time, it’s a story that needs to surface. Fuck, it’s been too long since I woke with a story itching at my fingertips. And this one is all you. You and me. Us. I’ve been waiting for you for so long. I need to give it a voice. One of my favorite love stories of all time. One that’s so brimming with lust it pours out all around us. Unlike so many of my fantasy-filled favorites that exist only between the covers, this one is real. So painfully and beautifully real. Plagued with writer’s block for frustratingly drawn-out months, you came along and broke the spell.

Thank you, my muse, my butch, my Daddy. I whisper a blessing of gratitude to whomever is listening. Hoping you hear me as well. Knowing you’re feeling me. Because I’m feeling you.

Making Your Strap-On Part of Your Body

When someone straps on, it’s easy for it to feel like an awkward protrusion rather than something connected to their actual body. But there are ways to practice embodying a strap-on so it feels more like you, which can then make it feel more exciting and more connective when using it during play.

You know how sometimes you put on a bigger backpack than you’re used to, and at first, you knock into the wall, the table, or a friend, because you just aren’t sure where the backpack is in relationship to you? That’s an illustration of one of the great human senses called proprioception.

Proprioception is the “perception or awareness of the position and movement of the body.” After we spend some time with that backpack, generally, we are able to sense how far behind us it extends, and we can be more aware of when we’re going to fit through a door and when we won’t.

The same is true of how we drive a car — ever notice that when you get into a new car, it takes a little while to figure out how to parallel park smoothly? But with your own car, it might be simple — because you already have a sense of the extension of the car in relationship to your body, and you know how to maneuver it.

The same thing is true for a strap-on.

It’s a tool, and a sex toy, yes, but it’s more than that: It can become an extension of your body.

Here’s some ideas of ways to play with proprioception, embodiment, and body-awareness to make your strap-on part of your body.

1. Feel It

Right after you put it on, take a few deep breaths and feel into it. What does it feel like? Maybe it’s awkward, exciting, a turn-on, exhilarating, nerve-wracking. Whatever it is, that’s normal and okay.

If it works for you, you could have a conversation, or put your intention into it while you’re first sensing what it’s like to wear it.

2. Touch It

Use your hands. Feel it, not as a sex toy that you are about to use, but as part of your body. Hold it in your hand. Put your finger on the very tip and see if you can feel your energy all the way into the shaft. Feel the weight and length and girth of it. Move your hips a little and feel what it feels like to have it move with you.

Try that all over again, but this time, close your eyes. What does it feel like now?

3. Practice Wearing It

Even when you’re not going to be using it for sexy playtime, put it on sometimes. Wear it around the house when you are doing chores or doing homework to get used to it. You’ll start to feel how it moves, how it connects to your hips, how the harness feels.

Not all of them are comfortable to put on and wear, I know — but you can figure out a way to wear it without having to move around so much (or put pants on top of it). You could just watch TV.

(Plus, it’s always good to practice putting the harness on and off, since having that be fluid helps with confidence.)

4. Masturbate With It

Dedicate some time to yourself to see what it feels like. No, you don’t have to use it as penetrative (unless you want to) — but use it as if you were using it with someone else.

Jerk off with it, play with it. Use lube, and slide your hand on the shaft. See what it feels like with a vibrator underneath it. See what it feels like when you thrust your hips up to meet your hand, rather than have all the movement come from your hand.

It doesn’t have to bring you to orgasm — the point is just to practice feeling it, and feeling it erotically. It certainly could have an orgasm involved, though!

5. Take Your Time

If you’re with a lover, take some time to yourself right after you put it on. Don’t rush! Feel it, touch it, and move with it until you feel like you have a sense of it as part of your body.

The more you get used to having it connected to your body, the more easily it’ll feel like an extension of you.

Cock Confidence: Uncut with Movable Foreskin

I can’t tell you the number of times folks have asked me about getting a strap-on dildo with foreskin! And while there are some that include the shape of the foreskin in the mold, none of them (that I know of) have foreskin that is movable — until this one.

So, of course, I leapt to purchase it.

It’s called King Cock Uncut, and it’s made by Doc Johnson. It comes in 6”, 7”, and 9” versions, in the colors vanilla, caramel, and chocolate (which have become fairly standard for realistic strap-ons). The width varies by size — the 6” one is about 1.5” wide and the 9” is 1.8” wide.

She Vibe has it in stock with the various options. (It’s actually hard to find at other feminist/queer sex toy stores, because they usually don’t carry this kind of material.)

King Cock in different sizes and colors

First, Let’s Talk About the Material

I was really excited when it arrived, even though when I took it out of it’s package, it smelled highly of plastic off-gassing — always a red flag for me. It is touted as being “phthalate-free, latex-free, body-safe, and hypoallergenic,” and while I believe that, their approximately $30 price tag tells me that the plastics they’re using are still not particularly high quality. SheVibe calls the material “Phthalate Free Fanta Flesh PVC.” I’ve had mostly bad experiences with PVC, especially because of the smells.

What is off-gassing, you ask? Well, it’s when manufactured items release volatile organic compounds (VOCs) and other chemicals, mostly detectable by smell. They usually undergo their most noxious (and smelly) off-gassing for about a month after they’re produced; some chemicals can emit VOCs for years. (Source.)

This material, by the way, cannot be disinfected, meaning it won’t clean by boiling it (the heat would probably disfigure it). It is porous, so it shouldn’t be used with multiple partners. If someone has sensitive skin, I do not recommend it.

Okay, but: sometimes a toy has other features that might make it work using a less-than-ideal material.

And this one? It’s special!

But It Has Foreskin!

Aside from the off-gassing, the first thing I had to do — of course! — was slide the foreskin. Wow: it did not disappoint. I was really excited about this when it arrived!

I ordered the 6” version to try it out. The foreskin slid fairly easily as soon as I took it out! It came with a little packet of lube that had a long nozzle, I assume to get it down inside of the dildo between the layers to make it slide more easily. I didn’t put any in early on, it was sliding easily enough on its own.

I washed it a few times, set it out to dry, but the smell didn’t change much. So I left it in a drawer for a while. Usually off-gassing diminishes with time, so I figured it would calm down. I wasn’t about to stick that in my mouth, and if I wouldn’t put it there, there’s no way I’d put it in a body (mine, or anyone else’s) in other places.

Time did help it be less scented, a little bit. When I took it back out a few months (yes, months) later, it still had a strong plastic smell, but not as intense.

But the Material :(

Unfortunately, what it also had was stains from being next to a black leather harness in the drawer. Not a lot, but definitely noticeable, and not particularly attractive. I wouldn’t say they look like bruises, but they look messy, like patches of soot, maybe.

By this time, it was much harder to slide the foreskin. It was sticky, and required quite a bit of arm muscle. I added some lube underneath the layer of foreskin, and that helped, though it still wasn’t nearly as smooth as it was before.

But What About Actually Using It?

Reports on the experience of using this strap-on have varied. Some folks weren’t bothered by the off-gassing smell, or perhaps theirs were not quite as strong as ours. Some said the smell was enough to put them off of it for good. Some were impressed with the foreskin, others though it wasn’t nearly as cool as they expected.

It has limitations, and yeah, maybe it isn’t quite as cool as it’s touted to be. But for what it is, it’s pretty fun — and unique.

The skin doesn’t really slide easily when it’s used. It wouldn’t make much sense for it to slide when it’s in someone’s mouth … it just takes more pressure and grip than would be comfortable or natural for a mouth to do. Same with being inside other body holes; the skin doesn’t move without the right kind of grip, so it won’t pull back just from going in and out of someone’s body.

So if that’s what you want, you probably won’t get it.

I’m not sure why that’s important, personally. I don’t need it to slide while I have it strapped on — I don’t know if you know this, but I can’t actually feel that part. So really, I just want it to slide while it’s in my hand, or while I watch someone else’s hand on it. And that it does, and does well.

rife reports that it is a really good size and shape. It’s a little fat, not very long. It’s very soft — they describe it as “proprietary dual-density Slide-Skin™ formula.” The dual-density is softer than many of the others on the market, and it might be even more squishy because of its additional outer layer. rife also reports that it is “not pokey” like others can be, and expressed that he really liked it. (I was surprised to hear that, to be honest!)

I am pretty excited about it as a masturbation toy. That feeling of it sliding is really pleasurable.

The Care & Cleaning of King Cock

Because it is PVC, it is porous, and cannot be fully disinfected the way other silicone, metal, and glass toys can be. It can be used with a condom, but that changes the way the foreskin moves, which is most of the point of this toy.

It can’t be boiled without damage, but it should be washed with warm water and mild soap before and after use.

As you can imagine, it’s very hard to clean. The skin peels back a little, but the piece of PVC that makes up the foreskin is actually a sheath that goes very far down the length of the shaft. It’s possible to get a small brush down in there, but lube is sticky and can be tricky to wash off without some care — and some direct soap.

king cock uncut with foreskin peeled back halfway down the shaft

Ultimately: I Like It

I’ve been on the fence about it, but rife’s comments about how good the size is tips me over to being glad it’s part of the collection. I’m not sure how heavily it’ll be in rotation, but for now, it’s the best option for a dildo with foreskin. And it does feel pretty good in my hand.

King Cock was not sent to me for a review; I purchased it myself. Get it over on SheVibe.

Whatever I Want, Whatever I Say

“I’m going to do whatever I want.”

By now, I have my hand over her mouth. My arm is pressed up against the plaster wall; the paint is scratchy and the plaster is cold. The curves of her — hips, ass, ribs — against my body are warm.

“And you’re going to do whatever I say.”

I’m not stupid. I know there are limits to what I can do with her. When I negotiated with her owner a few nights ago, we went over all kinds of things I could feasibly see myself doing, and some things that probably would never cross my mind. Although now that they have, perhaps I shall.

Her owner laughed when we started negotiating. “Honestly, I can’t imagine anything you could do that would be over the line.”

“That’s very generous,” I replied, smiling. We laid out everything we could think of, and made it all clear.

She whimpers under the palm of my hand. Her hair is caught at my wrist, probably in my watch. I might rip it if I move too quickly. She keeps arching her back and rubbing her ass into my thighs. I wonder if she even notices she’s doing that.

I reach under the loose, knee-length wrap dress to trace my way up her thighs. I savor the feeling of fishnets on my skin. The pad of my fingers fit perfectly into one of the little holes, and when I press just a little on her skin, I can feel how it dips inside of it. How easily I could hook my finger in, and pull her hole open.

She makes a sound that is half of a whimper and half of a moan, muffled by my hand. Her lips are open and she’s almost sucking. I can feel her teeth.

The straps of her garter belt are pulling at the raw top of her fishnets. I can feel the strain. They aren’t going to last much longer. My breathing gets shallow and faster. I want to tear, rip, split apart, shatter. I want that moment when the pounding against her is what forces the sound from her mouth.

I did promise I wouldn’t break her.

She isn’t wearing panties underneath anymore. She handed them to me after she walked in the door, one hand on the doorframe to steady herself while she peeled them over her delicate t-strap heels. She knows the protocol.

I promised myself I would fuck her mouth before I touched her pussy, before I made her feel good. I promised myself I would focus on my pleasure and her service. But when I think about feeling her wetness on my fingers I feel the tension ratchet up and up and up. I want it. I want to feel her stretch open. I want to shove my fingers in her mouth with her juices all over them and feel her open her throat.

Slow, I tell myself. Go slow. The faintest finger on her velvet lips.

She whines. A sweet noise, a long high note from her throat.

“Shut up,” I whisper. My lips touch her earlobe. “You’re mine tonight. Just for tonight. Aren’t you lucky, you slutty little bitch.”

She swallows whatever cry was going to come out of her next.

I feel the folds of her. She is not bare; her hair is short and thin. It feels impossibly dry, and I try not to think about sinking my finger into the slick of her.

“What am I going to do with you, hm?” I slide my lips to her neck to kiss, to suck. To taste her skin, the sweat of her, and the sweet. She arches her neck, rolling her head back on my shoulder, offering herself up.

My fingers find it, the spot I was looking for, where she is pouring, where she is waiting for me. I wonder how long I can wait. I wonder how cliche it is to want to strap on and fuck her. I let her wetness coat my fingertip, but only that. I don’t put it inside.

I pull it away, tighten my grip around her chest, and heave her toward the bed. She stumbles slightly and catches herself. I grab her ankles, one with each hand, pushing her up onto the bed and twisting her legs so she turns over onto her back. Her eyes flash a little fear, a lot of arousal. She bites her lip, unsure if she can speak yet.

In a breath, I whip my belt from my jeans, slide the end back through the buckle, and loop it around her wrists. It’ll do. I wrap the end in my fist, pull it above her head, and push between her thighs. She reaches for me. She looks at me, pleading. She wants.

I want to slide in. Her pussy is making a wet spot on my jeans. I want there to be something I can feel ready for her to take. I want the nerve endings. Instead, I have this: the color of my flesh, supple, flexible, on demand. I pull the buttons of my fly and they open, pop pop pop. It is easy to heave forward the swell of me.

She moans right away, with thick breaths and pressing hips, and turns her head to bite her upper arm. Her lip catches and turns out. The pink of her is showing.

I rub the head against her cunt. Her hole is so slick it almost slides in just by touching. She is an invitation, an open door: come inside.

“Just because I’m going to fill you with come doesn’t mean we’re done tonight,” I growl above her. She glances at me sideways, then lowers her eyes. She didn’t think this would be it, did she?

“Yes, sir,” she whispers. She steals a glance at me again to check my face and see if her words please me. “I will do whatever you say.”

A place in my core liquifies and groans, filling a void the has needed soothing. That is what I need to hear.

I let go of the belt and stand. Is she trembling? Her wrap dress is a mess, falling off of her. I reach for one end of the fabric belt of it and tug, and the bow dissolves. One side of the dress spills back, exposing the skin of her stomach, the curves of her plush body, the curl of her breast.

“Open your legs.”

Her face goes tight around her eyes, but she does. Her knees butterfly open and she slides her feet apart. My thighs are inside of hers, touching. I can feel the scrape of her tights when she moves. I want the indentation in my skin, want to feel the pinch and burn of it.

She has the expression of a woman who has readied herself to be entered. She knows she may or may not like it; she knows she may or may not come; she knows it isn’t for her. She knows who it is for. She knows what she is for, and right now, she is a plaything her owner loaned out. She is a toy her owner is showing off.

“Pull your hands free of the belt. Open your lips.” My mouth is going dry. “Show me.”

She slowly brings her arms down from over her head and reaches for her pussy, spreading her fingers to show me what’s underneath her layers. I grip her thighs with my hands. Strong. A handful. With the kind of pressure that will leave finger marks tomorrow. Gifts for my friend. She lets me push her thighs open further. I press forward with my hips. My cock is stiff in front of me and I find her hole with the tip of it, I keep my hands gripped on her thighs, the flesh of her giving under my hands. My fingertips feel the holes in the stockings again and I don’t resist, I slide my fingers through them and pull. I slide my cock into her and push. She writhes and gasps. I flex and urge forward. The cells of her stockings burst with my pressure.

I slide in and out. My eyes are closed, I don’t see her, but I do, through my touch, through the heat of her. I pull her thighs to me. I rip her stockings again. She cries out when it gives way. I feel myself close, so close.

“Please,” she whispers. She has moved her hands out of the way so I can push in deeper. “Please.”

Does she want it to end, or is she fearful of what comes next? Does she want my seed in her, or does she want me to pull out?

Doesn’t matter. What I want is to flood deep inside of her. To surprise her with the pressure. To fill her. Instead, I empty myself, thrust after thrust, and she milks me, she catches me, she holds everything I give her.

My body thrums.

Then I breathe out. “Good,” I say, righting myself again, pulling to my feet. Her dress is a piece of fabric. Her fishnets are shredded, falling off of her thighs. My lust is poured inside her and I can control myself, I can think, again. “Now that that’s out of the way, let’s start.”

I button my jeans slowly and watch as she comes back together. I take my shirt off, bare from the waist up. I kiss her mouth and she is supple and so, so soft. Then I reminder her, and I grip her throat, a little too hard. “Say it again,” I tell her.

“You’re going to do whatever you want,” she whispers. She rubs her thighs together, presses her lips tight before swallowing. “And I’m going to do whatever you say.”

I pick up the belt and fist it. I try to stop the wicked grin from spreading over my face.

“Oh,” she says. “God.”

Stone Femmes Should Be Called Diamonds, Guest Post by R. Magdalen

I could see Jaci’s outline as they were coming into the bar, and I could guess already how it would go. There was something in their body language that signaled a difficult conversation. I closed my book and put it on my lap. Their short gray hair falling a bit into their eyes. Looking around for me for a second, and then focusing. They were wearing jeans and a leather jacket over a an old white t-shirt. They walked up and sat down roughly, looking at me and then looking away, like some kind of 1950’s bad boy. Even though I felt what was coming, their face and the smell of the leather and pomade made my heart flutter. Or maybe the flutter was lower down. Or maybe there’s some disagreement about where my heart is actually located.

“You look pretty. Is that a new dress? How have you been?” I could tell they were going to put off the conversation as long as possible. I accepted the compliment and told them about my family, about the concert I went to last week, and they asked some feeble follow-up questions. I tried to make eye contact with the waitress, but she was busy.

“We have to talk.” There it was. I felt a bit of panic starting to rise.

“That’s why I’m here,” I answered, steeling myself.

“So, we’ve been spending a lot of time together, and that’s been great, but …”

“But.”

“But this was obviously not ever going to work out.”

“I thought it was fine,” I really don’t know why, but I did.

They ran their fingers through their hair and I felt the color rise to my cheeks. A thought occurred to me.

“You’ve already met someone? That was quick.”

“Yeah,” they said, looking down. I guess I was looking down, too, because abruptly the waitress was there. I wondered how much she’d heard, what she thought this was. I looked away and ordered a glass of wine, as my lover decided on a fancy beer.

As the waitress left, I could tell my lover wanted to chicken out, change the subject. I could not allow that, now that we’d finally started, so I didn’t skip a beat.

“And I guess she must be monogamous?”

“Pretty much.”

“Fair enough. It’s part of our arrangement. I back off when things get monogamous.”

“Yeah, well, here’s the thing.”

I pressed my lips together and nodded. I knew what the thing was. “You know this about me. You know I can’t…be touched. By other people, I mean.”

“Yeah, I know.” We hadn’t talked about it explicitly, but it was true. They let me. I don’t know why they didn’t let anyone else, but they let me. It was the thing I needed. Because it was true for me, too. Jaci was the only one I could let in, the only one I felt comfortable enough with, and they knew it. They put their head down and rested it on their hands.

“I just, I just couldn’t ever do anything for you. I wouldn’t feel right about it.”

My eyes stung at this, even though I’d seen it coming. They knew exactly what this change would mean to me. I’m a service top for my other lovers, just not them. I’d miss being touched. It would hurt, and my cunt would miss their hand, but I had other ways to fix that problem. I could turn to stone again. I could feel it already, as if my skin were cooling and hardening, creating a shell that protected a soft core.

Their eyes were suddenly red and they grew quiet. I could tell my lover was squirming inside, wondering if they’d lose me forever this time, and decided to wait a few beats before reassuring them. The blow to my ego was very real, and I am not without sadistic impulses. They slumped, and I decided to put them out of their misery.

“It’s okay,” I lied, and reached across the table to put my fingers in their hair, “It’s alright. We’ve been here before and it’s fine.”

They looked up with relief in their eyes. These things were never really certain. It’s the nature of the beast. There had been other women, other femmes who were warmer, prettier, more loving. I had backed off before, enough to give those relationships space to grow and then die on the vine. It was never easy, though, knowing I couldn’t be one of them. There were things I was not capable of giving. What I was capable of was another matter.

I smiled, shifted, and moved my book so they could see the outline of the big cock I had strapped on under my dress. I had come prepared for a somewhat different, more mutual sort of scene, but my mind shifted and adapted to the new reality. A cool, calm feeling spread through my chest. Jaci’s eyes widened, and they bit their lower lip, curled in the tiniest of smiles.

“Bathroom,” I said.

“Uhhh? Don’t you want to talk about this?” Maybe we should’ve, but I couldn’t stand the thought of processing right now. It was too fucking exhausting. Right now I wanted to believe that I was somehow too enlightened to need what Jaci had given me, and that I was completely comfortable with everything. I had to be nonchalant, and I had to fuck.

“Bathroom!” I said again, this time my voice came out harder than I intended. I slung my purse over my body so the cock was obscured again, picked up my book, and slid out of the booth. I led the way to the bathroom.

There was a woman leaving by the time we got back there. I smiled at her as my lover and I both went in, when there was obviously only one toilet.

I closed the door behind Jaci and pushed them against it. I moved my face close to theirs and we both opened our mouths slightly, but I didn’t move in for a kiss. They shifted forward, and I backed away, reaching down and pulling the leather jacket off of their shoulders instead. Then I pulled their t-shirt out of their pants, and yanked it and their binder up, exposing their chest. The binder left bright red welts behind. These, I kissed. They moaned and their face went slack and serious the way it does. I bit their nipples the way I do. I could do this for hours, with my teeth and my tongue. The taste, like nothing, and like everything. I liked to put my tongue in every cleft, under those tits and between them, still half compressed into firmness by the binder, like the skin of a plum. I bit, leaving red ovals. They were leaning against the door now and I reached down between their legs to feel their cunt’s warmth through the denim. I squeezed and they made a beautiful little sound.

I felt around for their belt buckle, and when I hesitated, they unbuckled it for me and opened their jeans. I pulled their pants and boxers down a bit, just to their thighs. The angle would be … suboptimal … but enough. I knelt down in front of them, the threads of my fishnets pressed into my knees, the floor dirty. I inhaled their cunt for a moment before giving the small mound the same as I’d given their tits, biting and teasing and kissing, covering it with attention before I worked my way to their slit. I wouldn’t be able to fuck them this way, but I took a long, delightful taste, pushing my tongue between their lips to find the wetness and the familiar flavors I loved. I reached their clit and a small wave washed over both of us. For a time, I just moved my head back and forth, my tongue rubbing their clit. When I felt their knees get a little bit weak, I jerked away and stood up.

They looked at me like a helpless creature.

They reached for me, tentatively, their hand moving toward the V of my wrap dress and the fluorescent pink bra that was starting to peek out. I slapped it away, hard, liking the sound.

“No. Not allowed anymore, remember?”

They drew their hands back. I adjusted the front of my dress to reveal as little as possible.

Then I put my fingers in their short hair again and pulled. Not gentle or comforting this time. I grabbed a fistful of gray hair and with the other hand pulled off their jacket. Not letting go, I turned them around and pushed their face hard against the door. With the other hand, I touched their ass. I squeezed, hard, until they whimpered. There would be a nice bruise there tomorrow. I wondered who would see it. I worked my hand between their legs and touched their cunt for a time, and they moved against me.

“You’re not coming. Not this way.” I took my hand away and they whined.

I pulled open the front of my dress, pulled down the fishnets a little, and let my big silicone cock bob out, pointing at that round ass. I reached into my purse and groped for a small packet of lube. I didn’t want to let go of their hair, so I opened it with my teeth and awkwardly squirted it into my hand. I rubbed some of it on my cock, and, with the rest, I started massaging their tight little asshole. They moaned and it did not take much of my massage before I felt their asshole relax enough for me to put a finger in. I fucked them like this until they moaned and said, “Now.”

Then I put the head of my cock against their asshole. There was the smallest resistance at first, and then it slid in easily. They moaned a little louder.

“Shut the fuck up or we’ll get kicked out,” I said in a stage whisper and I started pumping them slowly at first. I let go of the hair and held their hips. Their belt, still hanging from their pants, jingled a bit in time with our rhythm. The sound evoked a vestigial response in my cunt, from the days when the sound that belt made meant they’d use it.

I fucked them until I got lost in the fucking and forgot where we were, why we were there, and what they’d come to say. Then I pulled their hips as close to me as they would go and reached around with my other, unlubed hand, for their clit. I rubbed it in circles, my cock still deep in their ass, until they tensed and shuddered and came, not quietly enough at all. I pulled their body against mine, to keep them steady, to keep them from falling on the floor. I wanted to be their strength for a little bit longer. I held them for a while and then pulled my cock out. They winced at this. It was the end of a connection.

“We’ll be okay,” I said. We wouldn’t. The new girlfriend would find out, would become insecure with having me in the mix, and eventually even a friendship would become impossible. This would be the last time I’d see Jaci alone.

“My hair looks terrible,” they said, running a casual hand through it before pulling up their jeans and reaching for their jacket. They walked out of the bathroom, briefly meeting my eyes in the bathroom mirror.

I stayed and looked at myself. My skin looked grayish in the shitty light, my eyeliner was smudged. I wrapped the dildo in a plastic bag and stuffed it into my purse. Then I washed my hands and carefully tended to my face, gently drawing new lines around my eyes. I added some sparkles to my eyes, put on lotion and dabbed perfume on my wrists. There is something beautiful and strong about stone, I thought.

Cock Confidence: Zoro, by Perfect Fit

Zoro is a one-piece strap-on. The silicone is molded to fit the body’s pelvic contour, and it features a protrusion (5.5″), plus a hole underneath (good for accessing what’s underneath, or putting something through).

It comes with an elastic waistband — it won’t really work in other harnesses, but it doesn’t need to, because the jock strap style elastic is as comfy as wearing underwear. The site says the waistband is for all gender wear, and it fits waist sizes 24-40″. As someone on the top end of that spectrum, I gotta say, it was perfectly comfortable to wear. And as rife just said this morning when I asked him to put it on so I could take some photos, “How does this fit you? It fits me perfectly.”

I asked him what he remembered about being the recipient of this comfy Zoro, and he said he couldn’t recall — which is on the positive side, since there wasn’t anything particularly bad or annoying or weird about it, it was just us having sex. Ya know?

It’s really comfortable to wear. It’s an unusual shape — I’m particularly used to my two-piece style of harness-plus-interchangeable-silicone, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. It’s actually really comfortable.

The silicone is actually hollow on the inside, so someone on the smaller side could actually fit inside of it, and use it as an extender.

It’s a great size — not too big, not too small. Really good standard one-cock-fits-all-holes kind of size.

Details

Price: $90
Material: Silicone; waistband is nylon, polyester, and elastic. No phthalates or latex
Size: 5.5″ long, which means it’s about 1.4″ in diameter
Colors: Purple and black
Clean up: The waistband unsnaps from the silicone. Silicone can be sanitized with bleach, in the dishwasher with no soap, or by boiling for 5-7 minutes. Waistband can be washed in mild soap and water; it would probably get stretched out in the washing machine, so I wouldn’t recommend that

Comfortable, easy to clean, really good size. If you’re looking to invest in just one single strap-on, this is a really good option! If you want to have more options, it’s probably worth saving up and buying a separate harness and dildo, so that when you want to expand to even more dildos and harnesses you can use them all interchangeably.

Pick up Zoro in purple or in black
over on the Perfect Fit website.

Zoro was sent to me from Perfect Fit for review.

Review: Sam STP from New York Toy Collective

Yep, it’s pretty much everything you want it to be.

Sam, the new STP from New York Toy Collective, is a cute little fat soft-ish packing dick with a wide opening in the back to press against the wearer’s bits and a hole through the middle so pissing through it is easy. I love how the urethra is a little bit narrow, and squeezing it controls the stream a little bit. I love how short and stubby and chubby it is. I love the design, it sits so easily in underwear.

Details:

100% Platinum Silicone and available in 4 skin tones Cashew, Caramel, Hazelnut, Chocolate, Sam is easy to use and reliable. We suggest wearing Sam in snug underwear like briefs boxer briefs. Sam does not require specialty underwear. As with any stand to pee product- practice makes perfect. Size: Total length: 5 5/8 inches from testes to urethra opening. Girth: 1.5 inch shaft.

There are quite a few STP models out there, and it seems like there are new and better ones released every year now. I love how many queer and trans folks are involved in the production of toys like this! Seems like it wasn’t always that way. But now, the color ranges are bigger, the function is greatly improved.

Sam, like all of New York Toy Collective’s products, is made out of medical grade silicone, body safe and very durable. (I mean, if your dog gets ahold of it I can’t vouch for it. But it’ll stand up to all kinds of wear & tear.)

It’s excellent for STP — standing to pee. It’s easy; with the wide opening, I feel confident that the pee isn’t going to spill out, and I like how squeezing it a little controls the stream. I’ve been keeping this dick in the shower for some convenient golden showers play while I’ve been getting used to using it.

I can’t imagine this would work for any sort of insertion/fucking someone else, since it’s basically hollow and not very stiff, plus I’m not sure how it would work inside a harness. Maybe a little bit? Especially in the underwear-style harnesses, since they’d keep it tucked up against the wearer’s body.

But you know what it is amazing for? Blow jobs. The hole through the middle creates some suction, and that can feel veeeeeeery gooooooood. (If you’re into that kind of thing.) (Which I am.) It’s short and kinda stubby but still fat enough that it’s real pretty to watch someone get their mouth around it, and it’s great for some play with force, since it’s not going to actually choke them (very much).

Plus, it lends itself to some great dirty talk: “You want that dick, boy? Get it all nice and hard then. Look, it’s still soft and small. If you want it, you’re going to have to make it hard. Go on, do it right. You’re not going to get it until you make it big and hard.”

Or, you know, whatever works for you.

Conclusion: This is a really fun and versatile toy with many uses. NYTC makes some of the best silicone dicks on the market, and so of course their STP is extremely high quality as well. It’s a fantastic addition to the NYTC family of toys. I’ve already used it often, and it’s easily earned a space in my frequently-used-dicks-drawer.

Use code SUGARBUTCH on the New York Toy Collective website for $5 off!

This toy was sent to me from New York Toy Collective in exchange for an honest review. Pick up SAM at your local feminist queer-positive women-positive kink-positive sex toy shop. Don’t know where your closest one is? Check out this map.

The Best Uncut Strap-Ons: Uncut #1 by Tantus & Ellis by New York Toy Collective

Let’s go ahead and get it out of the way: There is no silicone strap on that I know of which has foreskin that actually slides and moves. Update: I found one! It’s not as great as I want it to be, but it is something! Review here: Uncut with Movable Foreskin, the King Cock from Cal Exotics.  None of these do that. Yep, I know. But since strap-on manufacturing is changing practically monthly, perhaps that’s something we can expect in the near future!

I’ve heard some sex toy aficionados posit that actually, pretty much all realistic-looking dildos are uncut and have foreskin — there’s so often a little wrinkle of skin beneath the head, and they said that was the foreskin, pulled back. Hmm. Not sure I buy it.

But either way, What I really want is one that moves. Because even still, after all these years, I am really cock-centric in my play.

This is a little personal, but when I first got the uncut packer by New York Toy Collective (featured as a little bonus at the end of this post), I was unusually drawn to it and it felt like mine and embodied in a new way. I thought about it, and given my parent’s politics, if they’d had a kid who was assigned male at birth, I actually think my parents would not have had him circumcised. So it actually felt closer to what, perhaps, my body would have experienced. That feeling kinda trips me out, even still. And I guess that’s why I am particularly drawn to these.

From left to right: CalExotics Uncut Emperor, Tantus Uncut #1, New York Toy Collective Ellis

Uncut Emperor Suction Cup by CalExotics

The Uncut Emperor came to me from She Vibe, which has an incredible collection of strap-ons. This is not silicone, its some sort of TPE — which is “thermoplastic elastomer.” Its very common for strap-ons to be made from this material, but you wont find it in most of the feminist, queer- and women-centered sex toy stores, because the material is porous. But on the other hand, TPE is much less expensive than silicone, so this one is about $30-40 in various places online, which is a big difference from the $100-150 pricetag of most silicone dildos. This one is “body safe,” meaning it does not contain any phthalates, which is a particularly bad type of processed plastic that is absolutely not body safe and known to cause cancer).

So, because it is body safe, because I was really looking for a great uncut dick, and because SheVibe highly recommended it, I was excited to give it a try. It is a handsome shape, and the colors work for my skin (though that means they are very white, so that’s not so great as an inclusive offering).

I can see that some of the photos of the Uncut Emperor have the foreskin peeling significantly back, but my model does not do that. Maybe it was just a slightly older design, and it’s been updated? Maybe mine was just more attached than others? So while it does peel back, it’s more like peeling a banana than sliding foreskin over the head. Which is what I’m actually looking for in the movement part.

And unfortunately, it was touching a packing cock in a dresser drawer that is also not silicone, and the two of them started melting and touching together, leaving indents on both of them. I forget that pretty much every kind of dildo that isn’t silicone does that, so I accidentally damaged both of them (and it was one of my favorite packers, too. Luckily, they are affordable, and I got another one!). Big bummer.

Overall: Not impressed. Very hard to wear in a harness, got damaged and warped by being in a drawer, skin doesn’t really pull back how I want it to. I did play with it a few times — and I’ve got to get a silicone cock with a suction cup! — but it’s not something I pick up anymore.

Tantus Uncut #1

Tantus makes an Uncut #2 as well, which is about 1” shorter in length but only about 0.15” smaller around. I prefer the bigger #1, but considering my most favorite cocks are quite a bit larger than the Uncut #1, it feels rather slender for me.

Which, for me, makes it a really great butt toy.

It’s slender, but it still has a pronounced head that gives some texture going in. The silicone is body safe and easy to clean, which is necessary to me for butt toys.

It’s part of Tantus’ dual-density line, which makes it much more squishy than their usual silicone, much of which is very hard. But even so, it’s hard to feel the difference in the two layers of silicone — they still both feel fairly solid, and it’s not quite as malleable as I’d prefer.

Overall: Great shape, great size. Excellent materials. Highly recommend.

New York Toy Collective Ellis

See this? This is why I’m spoiled with the dual-density type of materials. New York Toy Collective — and Vixen Creations — have raised the bar so high with the feel of strap-on dicks, that most other softskin or pureskin or silkyskin or whateverskin that other manufacturers make pretty much always falls short. I’ll admit, I’m spoiled. You spoil me, NYTC!

I love the Ellis. I love the whole NYTC line, to be honest. It doesn’t have the built in proprietary core that bends like the Carter and the Shilo do, so if you’re expecting it to be like NYTC’s signature dildos, you may be disappointed. But if you can take Ellis for what she is — a beautiful, well-designed, dual density silicone uncut strap-on — it’s fantastic.

Again, the skin does not move. Still bummed about that, but what can you do. I love the tapered head on this one, it also makes it a really good butt toy — or a really good blow job toy, because it can slip just a little farther since the tip is slender. It’s long, easily harnessable, with just the right amount of give.

You can get the Ellis either with a vibrating bullet that inserts into the base, or a suction cup! Personally I’m into the suction cup, but if you are someone who likes bullet vibrators next to your bits, go for it.

Overall: 12/10 will use again. And again and again.

Also! Use the code “SUGARBUTCH” at newyorktoycollective.com and you’ll get $5 off — basically free shipping!

Bonus: New York Toy Collective Pierre

This one isn’t an insertable (at least, not really), but the New York Toy Collective’s Pierre is one of the few silicone packing cocks out there, period — and it’s also uncut. It comes in two different sizes, small and regular, and four different lovely colors.

This one and the Masho are my favorites to pack with these days. I love how Pierre feels, and I love feeling the tip in particular. I have taken to starting blow jobs on a packer in my own sex play lately, and I really like that … it feels like starting at the beginning, and then watching the process of getting hard. It feels more intimate, to have my dick sucked when it’s so soft and vulnerable and small. And it feels sweet, and revealing.

Overall: One of the best packers on the market, period. It’s got a featured spot.

These toys were all sent to me for an honest, unbiased review. You can buy Pierre and Ellis over at New York Toy Collective, Uncut #1 and Uncut #2 from Tantus, and Uncut Emperor from SheVibe — or your favorite feminist, queer, women-centered sex toy. Find your closest sex toy store on this sex toy store map.

Don’t forget — Use the code “SUGARBUTCH” at newyorktoycollective.com and you’ll get $5 off — basically free shipping!

Femming the Strap-On, Guest Post by Artemisia FemmeCock

I used to think I wasn’t gay enough to have a cock.

I cringe at that now, wondering what the hell it even means to be “gay enough” for anything. My 16-year-old self had some very ingrained assumptions though, assumptions that formed an identity radically different from the one I inhabit so comfortably today.

It seems natural to introduce myself as a “queer femme dyke” now, but to my newly-out teen self, those were three very incongruous things: queer was a slur, femme was the counter-identity to masculine, and dyke was a term reserved for only the most visible, butch lesbians.

These were conclusion influenced by the community I found when I first came out as a freshman in high school, a community that assured me I was a lesbian without ever asking because I am a cis woman attracted to women. It was like a scratchy, ill-filling sweater, but amongst the many other discomforts of high school, it was warming to feel welcome somewhere.

However, this meant that an identity was crafted for me before I could even begin to claim one for myself. Part of that identity was my presentation as a femme woman who was dating a butch woman, which coded me as the submissive and receptive partner, while they were perceived as the dominant, the pleaser, the one who wore the strap-on.

We were swathed in binary stereotypes by others, queer or not, and there were endless jokes about how gay my partner was for being a visible butch woman. The most vivid being when a group of friends attempted to quantify our collective “gayness.” It was decided that my partner constituted two whole gays, while I could only claim one half. I don’t like math to begin with, but when that math is based on the idea that sexuality can be calculated from one’s appearance, I really don’t like math.

I played into this role of “half gay” though, laughing along with jokes that dismissed my sexuality because of my femininity, about being hit on by men or asked if I had a boyfriend because I didn’t “look gay,” and accepting generalized assumptions about my relationship and sex life.

I was so compliant because many of their assumptions were true: I could have had a billboard above my head that read “I’m fucking GAY” and I would still hear the dismissive rhetoric “but you’re too pretty…” and “are you sure?” In my relationship, I was submissive and my partner was dominant, I chose the cock but she always wore it, and she didn’t enjoy being penetrated while I did. Presentation and sex became linked in my mind, and I conceded to the stereotypes.

It wasn’t until I went to college and saw unabashed, gender fucking, non-binary femmes that I began to see my identity as more than half: the half gay, the receiving half, the other half of butch. I started to understand that my presentation isn’t complimentary, it’s individual and multi-faceted. I can like, do, dress, and fuck however feels right to me. So I took off the itchy sweater and all the assumptions that were pinned to it.

From there, I started playing with my femmeness, seeking to reclaim my body as strong and loud and queer. I grew out my body hair and dyed it pink, I gravitated towards bold lip colors and nails, and I found power in ritual: taking time to get dressed, do my hair, apply copious amounts of glitter. I embraced my femmeness in my sex life too, savoring snapshots of deep red lipstick smudged on a silicone cock, masturbating with nails that matched the color of my vibrator, and styling the cutest pony tails to be pulled on.

I found a partner who has shifted and changed with me over the past two years, and though our journeys of sex, sexuality, and presentation are undeniably different, we’re able to express our needs and wants in dynamic ways. For so long, I just didn’t have the language or references or support to communicate in that way, and a large component of my shift in understanding is centered around exchanging that sweater for a strap-on.

femmecock1

femmecock2

My first cock was a milky pastel pink that coordinated so well with my mint and pink lace harness. When I put it on, the wispy hairs on my thighs, two chubby bumps for knees, and slightly pigeon-toed feet all defocused, obstructed by that new view. I began to bob and sway as my hips swung and my legs lifted off the ground. I danced around in my new naked, the weight of my cock against my pelvis, brushing my skin as I shook and spun. It was like the queerest tampon commercial dance montage you’d ever seen, and I would have gladly accepted a trampoline to complete the image.

There was reclamation in that cock, feeling my queer femmeness in something that I had known as a symbol of masculinity and dominance. That was years ago, and since then, wearing a cock has become an ever present part of my life. Literally, it’s in my name, but it’s also my identity. Albeit, a very condensed identity, but it took me years of unlearning a selfhood formed by others in order to get to the point where it seems comfortable to join “femme” and “cock” together in a declaration of who I am.

Review: 4-in-1 Natural—Pack, Pee, Play, & Pleasure from FreeToM Prosthetics

I don’t usually review or play with very many “prosthetics” because, well, I’ll be honest: they are usually incredibly expensive. But recently I’ve noticed a growing market of (what I’d call) strap-on cocks, pissers, packers, and other penis-like tools that are marketed to transgender men as prosthetics, and as someone very curious about strap-ons and strap-on technology, I eventually had to try at least one of ’em.

So, I did a bunch of research (on Tumblr, mostly) and found the one that intrigued me the most: The FreeToM 4-in-1 Natural.

This prosthetic is made of medical grade silicone, and designed to have four functions: packing, peeing, playing, and pleasure. It is very soft, more like a packing dick than the usual silicone strap-ons that are made for fucking, and it folds easily in the center to pack more easily. It comes with a small, hollow rod that bends, which is insertable into the back of the dick through the hole in the center of the shaft, which makes it harder and able to fuck (play) with. It has a cup-like structure that fits against the body with a hole through the center of the shaft, so it’s able to be used as a stand-to-pee (STP) device. And the side that sits against the body also has a “pleasure slide,” textured silicone on the underneath that is meant to stimulate the wearer.

freetomIt comes in all kinds of colors. In fact, that would be my number one suggestion for folks interested in making the investment and getting one of their own: definitely order the color samples pack so you can get the precise match for your body and skin tone. I made an educated guess based on holding my forearm up to the computer screen plus what I read online (particularly that most white folks are more pink than they think), and I’m pretty happy with the color I ended up with, but I think a different color might be even more accurate, especially because genitals are often darker than skin on other parts of the body.

(When I order another one, I’ll definitely order the color pack first. Note I said when, not if.)

FreeToM offers a Paint Plus Upgrade Service, and the photos of their prosthetics that have been painted are incredibly impressive. I wasn’t sure it would be worth it to spring for the extra $80 to get it painted, but considering the high quality and how this dick has been a pretty serious game changer for me, I think it might be. The veins look amazing, and the head of the dick is much more realistic.

I spent quite a while browsing through the FreeToM website before I decided on this particular model, the 4-in-1 Natural. They also have a pack-and-play model that doesn’t have a ‘pleasure slide,’ and a 4-in-1 that is circumcised, as well as some smaller packing versions. But this one had a little bit of everything, which is what I wanted.

So this is what I ordered:

All NaturAL: 6.5″ Pack, Pee, Play & Pleasure – Warm Rosy Skin

Want to see some photos?

ftm1

From the website’s description:

The All NaturAL 4 in 1 prosthetic is 6 1/2″ in length and tapers off to 5 1/2″ in girth. The testicles and foreskin on this prosthetic are everything! It’s functions are: pack, pee, play and pleasure. It was deliberately designed to fold in the middle, to make packing much easier and has a sturdy enough cup for urination. All of our prosthetics are molded off of volunteer cis males for an ultra realistic look an the All NaturAL is definitely the most realistic prosthetic we sell! The hollow rod that comes inside the prosthetic is acid, fungal and bacteria building resistant. All hollow rods inside are removable for proper cleaning and sturdy enough for play. The hollow rod inside also allows you to bend the prosthetic in whichever position you’d like and can also be bent downward for comfortable packing. The FtM Pleasure Slide is also molded into the prosthetic itself and was designed to slide up and down the FtM genitalia. The All NaturAL is the most efficient prosthetic we sell and because of that, it’s a tad more expensive.

Let’s talk about how it works & what it’s like

Pros

Holy crap, this dick. I’m not kidding when I said it is a game-changer … other strap-on models just aren’t as interesting anymore. I love the softness of this one, I love how it feels when I wear it, I love how much I can feel a blow job through the suction and the hole through the shaft of the dick.

I keep using the word “juicy” about this dick, and it’s not (only) because it makes me wet, it’s also because of the way some of the model is hollow, so it has this … squish to it that is just awesome.

The colors are amazing, the quality is high, the texture is fantastic. It is so good for blow jobs. If you are into blow jobs, I highly recommend this dick.

rife told me it’s his second favorite dick to suck, his first favorite being Shilo by the New York Toy Collective. He also said he particularly likes it because I can be as rough as I want with it, and because it’s so soft (but still silicone!) he can take it and it doesn’t poke him the way some harder silicone does.

Cons

Let’s not beat around the bush: It’s huge. I ordered the 6.5″ because it was the only one that came uncut, though there are a few other models of the 4-in-1 that are smaller, and I would highly recommend going for something smaller than 6.5″ if it is primarily going to be a packing dick for you.

It is hard to pack with. Not impossible, but it feels very different and very noticeable. The balls and the cup are very, very large, bigger than the palm of my hand, and very bulky. It sits well in my (baggy) pants, and it does fit between my legs, but wearing it in that place has been taking some getting used to (I’m much more used to wearing a packing dick in front of my body, rather than under my body).

It’s also kind of hard to strap-on and fuck with. Maybe I just haven’t used the right harness yet (I think the SpareParts Joque would be particularly good for it), but it’s been hard for me to keep it in place. Because it’s so squishy, it moves around a lot and edges its way out of the places I want it to be. Also, I like pretty rough sex, and because it’s so soft, it is not the best at that.

I need more practice using it as a STP device, and I think generally it does quite well with that, but because the space inside of it is quite large, it feels a little bit messy. My favorite STPs are still simple and sleek, and this one feels like it’d need rinsed every time, which is a challenge in public restrooms or when using elaborate harnesses.

The other major con for this dick is the price. It’s a serious investment. They do have some pre-made and pre-painted models, which are not custom made when you order them, which have the benefit of shipping faster and also of being a bit more affordable. They also have a clearance section, so if you have your heart set on something from FreeToM and you just can’t afford to get one, definitely stalk their clearance and pick something up there.

Rating it on a 1-5 star scale, 5 being the best and 1 being meh:

★★☆☆☆ 2/5 Packing
★★★★☆ 4/5 Pleasure
★★★☆☆ 3/5 Pissing
★★★★★ 5/5 Blow jobs
★★☆☆☆ 2/5 Rough sex/hard fucking

Regardless of it’s limitations, it is a pretty incredible tool and toy. If you’re even half as into blow jobs and packing and strap-ons as I am, I bet you’d love this.

The All Natural 4-in-1 prosthetic from FreeToM was not sent to me to review, it was purchased of my own free will because I wanted it for myself. If you buy one, tell ’em I sent you?

Review: Finally, an Ejaculating Dildo: The Semenette

There are very few options for strap-on dildos that ejaculate. There are quite a few “novelty toys” out there, but they usually have one of two things wrong: either 1) they are made with porous or toxic materials, or 2) they are manufactured such that the tube that squirts the liquid out is lodged firmly in the center of the base of the dildo, which makes it pretty much impossible to strap on.

(I’ve even gone so far as to order one of the intense non-human Bad Dragon squirt dildos, to try it out. I bet some folks would be into it, but it didn’t work for me.)

So when the Semenette became available in 2014, I was thrilled. Finally, finally! A strap-on cock I can actually use to squirt with.

brown

It came into being for personal reasons: the founder actually wanted something to use to get her partner pregnant (or so the urban legend goes). “Turkey basters? Ew!” are part of their marketing materials. Personally I don’t really have many feelings about turkey basters, one way or the other … not so sexy, sure, but I’m not sure actual insemination is exactly sexy, either. But that’s not to say that I don’t have a come or a body fluid fetish—I totally do. And I’ve wanted to be able to make a big mess of fluids in some of my strap-on play for quite a while. (Or to get a blow job and actually squeeze some liquid down my boy’s throat? I’d really like that.)

The plusses:

The Semenette is high quality silicone, and available in three colors (fairly standard for “realistic” tones of strap-ons, these days, and yes, very limited, and not at all accurate for everyone’s skin tones). It is 6.25″ long and about 1.5″ in diameter, which is on the small side for a strap-on dildo (most of my personal favorites are more like 7×2), but it’s a perfectly fine size for most things. The base of it is specifically designed so the tube tucks into a little divot and then comes out the side, so it’s possible to use it in a harness. It comes with a tube and little bulb that you can fill with water, lube, or a home-made come-like substance (there are a variety of recipes for this online).

But, there are a few minuses:

The silicone is hard, not one of the “soft skin” or “real skin” kinds of silicone that a lot of strap-on dildos are these days. And I know, I know—you do have to overlook the name. I think there must be some folks who are into it, but for me, I really dislike it. I think taking a word and adding “ette” on it in order to make it more accessible or interesting to women to be … belittling, somehow. And while some folks might get off on the idea of ‘semen’ as part of their sex toy, a lot of folks will not. (The name is changing in their 2.0 version—more on that in a minute.) And, perhaps the hardest thing for me to overlook, the bulb that comes with it—which is the reservoir in which you can store the liquid you want to squirt—is really tiny. I suppose if you’re building a toy to be used for actual insemination, the quantity of liquid that you would use is actually quite small. But if you’re going for the whole, uh, effect of it, I would like to use more. It probably wouldn’t be that hard to find an adequate new bulb that is bigger and able to hold more liquid, but, well, add that to the small projects list, and maybe I’ll get around to it in 2019.

semenette
Despite some of these setbacks, there is absolutely no better strap-on dildo on the market for ejaculating. Literally every other option I have found is either made of dangerous materials or not made for strapping on, so this is the only good one I know of.

(If you know of some I don’t know about, please, let me know!)

I’m also thrilled to discover that Semenette is releasing a new version of this same concept, now called POP! Dildo. It’s a little bigger than the Semenette, and has an optional slightly larger bulb as well. I haven’t gotten my hands (heh heh) on it yet, but when I do, I’ll let you know how they compare.

The Semenette was sent to me for a review. Order the Semenette online here.

Review: Carter, The (Big!) Bendable Dildo by New York Toy Collective

Carter has joined the family of insertable silicone dildos from New York Toy Collective, which has quickly become one of my most favorite manufacturers of cocks. They have a couple of very distinctive features: 1) They are the only company to make a bendable dildo out of silicone, and 2) they are one of the few (along with Tantus and Vixen Creations) that make dual-density silicone. They’re also a queer-owned and -run business, which is always a bonus.

The Carter model is different from their other two, Shilo and Mason, as it’s much wider than either that came before. (I’ve reviewed the Shilo here.) It is one inch shorter than the Mason, and another 1/2″ thick, which makes a big difference. For those of you who like girth: This.

Carter finally feels like a desert-island dildo—like one that I would choose, above all else, to be my go-to dick for everything.

Carter has the same ability to bend—and, thus, to pack in your jeans—as the others, but the added girth makes it a wee bit more bulky, and not nearly as discreet.

You know what else is great with the Carter? NYTC’s love bump, aka detachable balls. I’ve come to really prefer to have balls on my dicks (ask me why at a Cock Confidence workshop sometime, and what it has to do with Tantra), and I love how I can swap the balls from one dick to another.

Stats:
2″x7.5″ insertable (8″ total)
Made out of: Silicone with a bendable core

The silicone material means that you can sanitize it quite easily, either by wiping it down with a 10% bleach (90% water) solution, boiling it for 8 minutes, or washing it in the top shelf of the dishwasher (with no soap!). You should not use silicone-based lube with silicone products, so make sure you pick up some water-based lube to use it!

Yes, this is what my tattoo is for.
Yes, this is what my tattoo is for.

Carter retails for $169.95 and is worth every penny. I know that seems like a significant amount of money for a whole lot of people, but I do want to (continue to) encourage you to invest in your own pleasure. It’s worth saving up for, and buying something that will seriously last.

I highly recommend any of the NYTC products, but especially Carter, which has become my all-purpose go-to dick. Regardless of your experience or interest or what your partner can take, NYTC has a dick that will fit for you.

The Carter by New York Toy Collective

The Carter bendable dildo was sent to me from New York Toy Collective to review. Get your own Carter from the NYTC website, or from your favorite feminist queer sex-positive sex toy store.

Just This Next Thrust (Angie & Fern #4)

Fern saunters down the corridor like she’s window shopping, so casual, so indifferent. She’s in a simple dark grey summer dress that bounces a little when she moves, coming down to her knees, scooping at the neck. She’s carrying a crisp black leather rectangle purse, so small I can’t imagine it holds more than one book. Her black leather boots click against the floor. She looks a little severe, but the way she moves makes it all seem so casual and light. My legs start burning to run to her before she’s through the official security checkpoint, so I hold myself back for as long as I can, then dash into her arms and bury my nose in her neck, inhaling her sweet intoxicating scent, always the same, still after these two years: honeysuckle and leather.

“God, I missed you,” I whisper, not really speaking to her, just needing to say it aloud. She holds me close, arms around my waist as mine are thrown around her neck. I pull back to kiss her and our lips crushing and insistent, urgently nipping with our teeth, tongues exploring and soft.

I sigh, so happy. Things just feel so right when she’s around. “I can’t wait to show you around Indy!” I say. “There are so many fun things—”

“Oh sugar, like I want to see anything except your bedroom this weekend. I have a list of scenes I want to play in,” Fern ruffles my hair and slips her arm around my waist, turning and steering us toward baggage claim. “Sightseeing I can do anytime. You, though …” she turns to me, pulls me hard against her, our lips barely brushing, foreheads touching. “I need you,” she says, and kisses me again, so hard and passionate that I swoon, my knees going weak. She holds me up.

“Take me to your place,” she says.

*

While we wait for the luggage we kiss luxuriously slow, giggling, as if we had all the time in the world, as if we weren’t packing two month’s worth of longing and desire into one weekend, as if we knew where this was going. I wore sheer, wet lipstick that tastes like peaches—the one she loves—and hers is dark, but it doesn’t come off on my mouth. Her hair is too perfect, piled and twisted on top of her head. I can’t wait for it to come down, to lather it with shampoo and conditioner, to brush it out for her before bed like I’ve come to do on every visit.

I drive us quickly back to my place. She keeps her hand on my thigh, pushing up my short skirt, fingertips brushing feather-light against my skin. She kisses my neck and the palm of my right hand. I’m jumping out of my skin by the time we are walking from my apartment building’s small carport through the lobby to the elevator. Fern is so calm, like she is about to walk in to a business meeting she’s running. I am talking like an idiot, babbling on about the end of college, about my roommate (out of town for the weekend, obvs), about what happened when my parents came to visit for graduation, about the internship I had that possibly maybe probably could lead to a job, maybe even in New York.

The elevator is mirrored from the waist up. There are a hundred of us reflected on all angles. I’ve always loved this elevator. Really good selfies in here. As soon as I touch the #7 button to my floor—still yammering on, this time about the super of my building and how nothing is ever fixed—Fern puts a finger to my lips to shush me, gently pushing me against the wall. I whimper, immediately parting my legs for her. She shoves her hand up my skirt brutally, knocking into my pubic bone, as she kicks my legs apart and pushes my hands above my head with her other hand. She cups her palm around my cunt and kisses me, hard this time, biting my lower lip and shoving her tongue into my mouth. “I need you, Angie, I need you,” she mutters, pinching the folders of my cunt with her fingers, causing me to cry out, wince, and start dripping. “So wet already, girl,” she coos. I moan. Damnit. She always knows I can never hide it from her: what I want, what turns me on, what I’m desperate for. She’s so hard to read, but I seem so easy for her.

Fern pushes her fingers past my thin cotton panties and slides two right into me, easy and slick. I gasp, pressing hard against her hand, willing her deeper inside. I want her whole hand, her strap-on, her mouth—I want it all.

I’m just about ready to pull her down on top of me when the elevator stops and the door opens, and we’re on my floor. Fern clears her throat, kisses me once, and slides out of me, slowly and deliberately.

I barely get the key out of the lock before she’s on me again, in the hallway in my own little apartment. “Wait, wait, let me at least close the—” I start, but Fern slams it shut with her boot and gives me this look like I am the most delicious pray and she’s been stalking me for weeks. It makes me want to run, and it makes me want her to catch me.

So I do. I bolt toward the bedroom, dropping my purse and my keys on the floor, things scattering, not caring. Fern is so fast in following me that I can feel the whoosh of air on my legs. She catches me from behind, shoving me down face first onto the bed. I’m going to get it, and I want every bit of it I’ll get.

“I’ve been waiting too long to fuck you, girl,” she growls in my ear while she pushes my skirt and panties aside. She slides her fingers in again, more of them this time, long and pressing right up against that exact spot that always needs more, and I moan into the quilt.

“Please, please,” I beg.

Fern isn’t nice when she gets like this, she’s rabid, a little vicious. I never thought that would turn me on, but now I crave it, being wanted like that, being taken down. She thrusts into me a dozen times, slow then harder and faster, until I’m shuddering and almost ready to come. “Not yet, sugar,” she says, low and syrupy, her face still so close to my ear.

She pulls up and says, “Strip,” and reaches behind her for the zipper on her own dress, sliding it off of her shoulders, revealing her freckles and moles and her lovely breasts as she pulls it down over her arms. I drop my skirt and panties, unbuttoning the silver cap-sleeved blouse I’d picked out especially for her earlier this week. When her dress falls to the floor I see that she has a strap-on beneath her dress, a dark red one that matches her lipstick and fingernail polish precisely, holstered in a red and white striped harness with a small red bow at the top in the center. The dick is so long, and her dress is so tight, that it’s tied down to her thigh with a black hanky.

My breath catches at the sight. Goddamn, she’s so sexy. She unties the dick and tightens the harness.

“On the bed,” she says, and I immediately hop up onto it and lay back, pumping a palm-full of lube from the bottle on my nightstand and rubbing it against my hole. She kneels next to me, twisting my hips so she can slide her tool in to me from behind while I’m still mostly on my back. When she enters me, I grab at the bars of my headboard for support, pushing against her, working my hips against hers, taking it all in, every inch, every thrust she can manage.

“Please more, Fern please, please!”

She fucks me harder. She’s starting to grunt and moan and I reach down to touch my own clit, cunt contracting even harder around her. I rub it fast and furious with my fingers, pushing against the headboard and against her legs. She twists around, lifting one of her feet up, boots still on, and presses it against the side of my head, pushing me down into the bed. I’m held immobile, I have to take it, it’s too much and I almost can’t, but I love it, and I open up to meet every inch of force she dishes out to me.

Harder still. I moan and cry out, begging for more, begging for her to let up, begging for mercy, but she is relentless, and focused on my hole, which is telling her all she needs to know. I breathe and quiet myself, trying to just feel it, just feel every bit of it, just let every cell in my body soak up this pleasure so I can let it seep into my skin over the next months that we’re apart. When are we going to see each other again? We don’t have another visit planned. I can’t think about that now. Just feel it, I tell myself. Just this next thrust. Just this next breath.

I start working my clit with my other hand again, face still pressed to the bed under her boot, and before I know it I come, hard, shuddering and gasping, crying out, pressing my hips into Fern as she thrusts into me.

She moves her boot and collapses next to me. “Fuck!” she declares.

I can barely move, but I nuzzle closer to her, catching my breath. “Uh huh.”

“Ange, you’re so fucking hot,” she says, wrapping her arms around me.

“Mmm. You are,” I say. “Did you come?”

She gives a short laugh. “No, I can’t come like that. I’ll just use your mouth later. Or your hands. Or maybe my hands. Hm, so many options.”

I nod, sleepy. “Whatever you want.” We lay together in the quiet for a little while, skin against skin, hands touching, caressing.

Then, suddenly: “Come on,” she says, getting up off the bed.

“What?”

“Let’s go, I want a cigarette.” Last time she was here, we spent most of the time in my bedroom, the kitchen, and the little roof deck up on the 8th floor. She loves cigars especially. I’ve even gotten good at cigar service, which I learned from folks in the local leather scene at her urging.

I reluctantly oblige, pulling my softest, warmest robe from behind the closet door and slipping it on. She pulls on pajama pants and a tee shirt, and pulls my college sweatshirt from the closet.

I follow her upstairs, still giddy and buzzing. She’s a little antsy. I should probably have offered to get her off right away, she’s still all wound up. But when I get upstairs, I get the feeling something else is going on.

She lights a cigarette, playing with the lighter and staring at the flame, sucking down the smoke. I hate that I find her smoking sexy, but I do. She gets all squinty and intense, and I just want to kiss her and taste it on her mouth. We sit on the patio furniture, knees touching.

“You know I love you,” she leans, reaching over to my hands in my lap. It’s chilly out here; we’re in that gloaming time, when it’s still light but the sun is gone, and it’s not yet twilight. I wrap my robe tighter around my body.

“Of course,” I say, but she keeps going.

“You know I want to be with you. I just haven’t been able to figure out a way to do it, really. But I got some really good news at work recently. I’ve been waiting to tell you, I wanted to say it in person. They’re offering me an international position, which means I’ll be overseas probably 8 months out of the year to start. The company has a villa in France, and another in Italy—that’s where they want me first.”

I swallow. Oh shit. What is she saying?

“And school is done for you, now. I know you want to get your own job and have your own career, and I want you to, I don’t want to be in the way of that. But we have other options, too … ”

And out of nowhere, Fern suddenly has a ring in her hand. A diamond ring, a beautiful one, antique and perfect and catching all the light that the sky has left. I gasp at the sight of it.

“Fern!”

“Angie, you’re everything to me. I want to keep exploring this, and I want you in my life every day, not just sometimes. I want you to come abroad with me. I know it’s a risk, and it will be really different and probably hard, but I want to try. Do you? Will you … marry me?”

I swallow, my mouth is so dry, my eyes are wet. “Yes. Yes baby, yes!”

Fern is relieved, visibly, and lunges forward to hug me. I can barely breathe. Breathe, I remind myself. I take a deep breath and feel better, feeling Fern’s hands on my back, her body and the perfect shape of her next to me, inhaling the scent of her. And—France! Italy! And the ring!

She pulls back to offer the ring, and I offer my finger. “It was my grandmother’s,” she says, kissing me. “My mom said she can’t wait to meet you.”

She slides it on, and it’s a perfect fit.


Featured image from Crash Pad Series Episode #123, Kathryn Dupri and Lily Cade. Harness featured in the story is The Betty by Velvet Nest. Cheesy marriage ending brought to you by the Supreme Court marriage equality decision over this past (pride!) weekend.

Reduced to Expletives (Asher & Jesse #3)

Turns out, Jesse is a natural. Topping comes to her like all the skills are downloaded right into her brain, like she is in a kinky version of The Matrix.

“Hey, want to try tying me down to the bed and fucking me until I scream for mercy?” Asher texts.

“Why yes, yes I do,” comes the reply immediately.

“How about blindfolding me?”

“How about it?” It goes on like this.

The quarter is almost over, and they walk through the Quad on the way to Psych together nearly every day. Asher whispers into Jesse’s ear. “Maybe I could wear those stockings you like, and you could slice them off of me with a knife—or better yet, rip them with your bare hands.” They’d stayed in bed late, fucking, exploring each other’s skin and taste and touch and eagerness. Jesse could still feel Asher’s pulse and breath and blood pressure synced up to her own.

She tries not to stumble and fall over. Fuck, this girl, this gorgeous creature, and she wants me to do all these fantastic filthy things to her? She feels drunk on gratitude. I Must’ve Done Something Good keeps getting stuck in her head.

“I have a surprise for you later. You’re still coming over after dinner, right?” Asher kisses Jesse’s neck as they approach the building.

“Mmhm, after my shift at the store,” Jesse closes her eyes and tilts her head to expose more of her neck. “Can’t wait,” she whispers, kissing Asher back and sliding her hands around her, along her trench coat. Asher may not be able to wear the fancy femme shoes she wanted to on Seattle’s rainy campus, but goddamn if she wouldn’t have femme rain gear. She even had a white umbrella with ruffles for particularly wet days. Jesse swoons.

*

“Fuck,” Jesse mutters, low and under her breath as Asher emerges from the bedroom in a tight white leather corset, white thigh-high fishnet stockings—the industrial ones with no finished top edge—held up by a simple white garter belt. Her panties, a blush shade of pink, were on top of the garter, a style she’d told Jesse is more British than American, and easier to remove while still keeping the rest of the outfit … intact. Her tits are pushed up and together, making her full figure nearly spill out of the top.

Jesse wants to climb inside her cleavage and snuggle and nuzzle for hours.
“Fuck,” she says again, sliding her arms around Asher’s waist as soon as she is within arm’s reach. “You look … goddamn.”

Asher giggles. “I like reducing you to expletives.” She reaches her arms around Jesse’s neck and switches her thighs, rubbing the stockings together and against Jesse’s jeans. Jesse feels so … clothed. She likes the strength she feels held up against Asher’s vulnerability. Asher kisses her, soft, their mouths at almost the exact same height, but only because Jesse is still wearing her boots.

“You brought the strap-on, right?”

Jesse swallows. “Yes.”

*

Jesse can feel her body getting close. That swelling in her cunt, the way she tightens and tenses every muscle and tendon, legs getting sharp and straight, bending less and moving her body more as a unit, one strong, long piece.

She plunges her strap-on dick in and out. Asher writhes on her back underneath Jesse, legs splayed open, wrists still bound by the rope she’d run beneath the mattress, that cheap baby-blue blindfold with the JetBlue logo on it over her eyes. Her mouth is open, breathing hard, lips and tongue wet. Asher raises her hips to meet Jesse’s and with each thrust, some little gasps escape.

Jesse isn’t sure how long she can stand it. The wetness. The hole. Being inside Asher. The feeling of being enveloped and held, safe, contained. Jesse grips Asher’s hips and digs her knees into the mattress, mouth landing on Asher’s shoulder, sucking as she lets her hips follow that feeling there—just there—that one—that—

And with a few more thrusts, that’s it—she yells out, coming hard, shoving into Asher as she convulses and collapses on top of her.

Asher kisses the parts of Jesse that she can, her neck, her upper arm, letting Jesse move when she’s ready. Jesse reaches down to ease the strap-on slowly from inside Asher and only felt her own wetness. Fuck, what had happened? Her harness was loose and the dick sags … and probably hadn’t been actually inside of Asher for some time now.

“Was it—did this slip—aw, fuck.” Jesse blushes hard, fiddling with the dick, unsticking the leather harness from between her legs.

Asher can see out of one eye, the blindfold now askew. “It’s okay, Jesse—it was so hot to feel you come.”

Jesse starts undoing the rope bindings around Asher’s wrists. She’d pulled the knots tight and it took both hands to work them free. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. “You could’ve told me!” Jesse whines a little.

“I guess. But I really didn’t want you to stop,” Asher’s voice was low and husky, playful.

“I’ve never … I think that was the first time I’ve been able to. Come, I mean. When strapped on.”

“Mmm, well I loved it. Let’s do it more, okay? I want to feel you filling me up next time.”

“Could you just … make sure to tell me? If it slips out. Maybe you could kind of, beg for it, like I’d slipped out on purpose to tease you?”

“Ooh yeah. Like, ‘No please wait, I want it back, come back inside me, don’t go yet.’?”

Jesse grins. “Yeah, like that.”

“Deal.” Asher nuzzles into Jesse and yawns. “You’re going to wear me out,” she sighs, clearly very pleased with this new idea. Jesse laughs a little, thinking, she’s the one who’s going to wear me out, hoping she can keep up with Asher’s lust and drive.


Featured image from Crash Pad Series Episode 89: Hilt & Rusty Nails.

The Ten Sugarbutch Cock Commandments

I’ve been teaching strap-on workshops for about six years now, and I’ve been strapping on for about fifteen. I also coach people to have more cock confidence (and to find the perfect cocks & harness for what they need). With all of this experience, I have some pretty strong opinions and philosophies about strap-on cocks and strap-on sex, and I have a lot of knowledge about what works for people and what doesn’t work.

But hey, remember that these are just my best ideas for strap-on play and philosophy at the moment. I reserve the right to change my mind and evolve my opinions about them later. Your best ideas may be different, and you might disagree with some of these—that’s a-okay by me. Just take what applies to you, and let go of the rest. If by chance I missed your personal favorite Cock Commandments, I invite you to leave them in the comments!

So here they are …

The Ten Cock Commandments

1. All bodies have holes

Male, female, men, women, queers, trans grrrls, trans fags, genderqueer folks, butches, femmes, fairy boys, bears, leather daddies, lesbians, bend over boyfriends, pro doms—whoever we are, all of our bodies have holes. All of our bodies have things that can fit into those pretty little holes, too: like tongues, fingers, toes, or even factory-installed dicks (if by chance you have one of those). And, because technology is awesome, we have dozens and dozens of options of sexytimes tools that we can add to our adult play time that might possibly feel good in those holes. Playing with penetration doesn’t make you straight, it doesn’t make you gay, it doesn’t make you masculine, it doesn’t make you anything that you aren’t—it only means you like to play with penetration.

Though we all have holes, not all of us like the sensation of things in our holes, for whatever reasons. Some people like lots of big huge things shoved in all their holes at once; some people like only teeny tiny things in this hole, but big things in that hole; some people like only this one hole touched on the outside. The trick is to find what sizes and sensations are just right, for you and for your lovers, and then respect the shit outta that.

2. Use sexy words to talk about it

Just like our factory-installed genitals, we all have different words that resonate for us and that really, really turn us off. Figure out which words work for YOU, share that with your partner, and then call it what you (and they) like to call it.

Here’s some tips: I would suggest against using words like “fake,” “pretend,” “faux,” “plastic,” and “dildo.” While they might be technically the correct terms for the item, once it becomes an extension of your (or your beloved’s) body, let me assure you: it can feel very real, and using words that support that connection rather than separating it can be empowering and validating. Some people like to give it a name—I just heard a poem where a femme kept referring to her cock as “Miss Big Red,” and then later, just “Red,” which was really hot. Some keep the name that the cock came with (Vixen Creations has some awesome names, like “Outlaw” and “Buck” and “Maverick”). Talk about it with your lovers and use the words that you—and they—find sexy and exciting.

3. It is an extension of your body

This tool is more than a toy: It can become an extension of your body. My advice? When you put it on, take a few deep breaths and feel into it. Put your finger on the very tip and see if you can feel your energy all the way into the shaft and weight and length and girth of it. Wear it around the house when you are doing chores or doing homework to get used to it. Put it on and jerk off with it, play with it, include it in your solo explorations. The more you get used to having it on your body, the more easily it’ll feel like an extension of you.

4. Fake it till you make it

But what if you just don’t feel it, don’t feel connected to it? Well, for now, I suggest you just fake it. Don’t lie about it—but make up in your head what it would feel like if you could feel it, and go from there. Experiment. Channel your favorite porn star and the way they drive their beautiful tool with such grace and ease and respect. (Don’t have a favorite porn star who straps on and plays? Maybe you should do some research, and find one!) Really feel into it and see what kind of sensations you can feel, and focus on those. A lot of strapping on and playing and “feeling” a strapped-on cock is mental, so be curious and open to expanding what you thought was possible.

5. A cock can be a top OR a bottom

Just because you’re the one wearing the cock doesn’t mean that you have to be the one in charge of the fuck, or the top or the dominant. Bottoms wear cocks, too! Being tied down to the bed and watching your lover lower themself down onto your shaft, riding and thrusting away on your cock, which is all exposed and hard and ready for the taking? That can be a very submissive place to play with. And if your dominant wants you to strap on and fuck them, aggressively, hard, with fervor? Well, do your service really well and perform just how they ask. Just because you’re the one doing the penetrating doesn’t mean you’re in charge.

6. Wrap your tool

Safer sex protocol applies to playing with strap-ons, too. Know your status, get tested, and increase your awareness of STIs and how to talk to lovers and play partners about them. If you’re monogamous with your partner, you may not need to wear a condom every time, but it’s still a good idea to do a deep clean every once in a while, and make sure you do a quick soap and water wash before you use it, and preferably after, too, to keep your materials in good shape. If you’re a (self-proclaimed) slutty slut and like pick-up play, or if you play with multiple partners, wear condoms on your dick and clean them between partners. Make sure you get good silicone cocks that can be easily boiled. You might want to get harnesses that clean more easily, like rubber, or machine washable materials like spandex and cotton and nylon.

7. Get your own cock

Couples sometimes shop for sex toys together. It can be a fun, sexy outing to go visit the nearest (hopefully queer-friendly, feminist, independent—if you’re lucky enough to have one of those in your area) sex toy store and look at all the goodies. But that often means that the sex toys expire when the relationship does.

Cocks and harnesses can be a little bit different than that. Often it’s not just a cock, it’s your cock. Perhaps you want it to match your particular style, in color or decor or shape. Or you might want to get one that compliments your body frame, your weight, your size, or your skin tone. Keep in mind that making it match your body frame might actually mean that you get a much, much smaller cock than you might ideally want (which is one of the most exciting things about being able to strap on and store your dicks in a drawer—you can have more than one!). Same with harnesses: It is often best to get one that fits for your body, and what is best for your body might not be best for your partner’s body.

I know finance is sometimes a limitation to getting the exact right product for you when you’re in a partnership; of course it’s totally fine to share toys. These products are expensive! But when you do invest as a couple, be willing to have a conversation about what will happen to the dick and harness if and when your relationship ends. Whose will it be? Will you have a little ritual and recycle it through a sex toy recycling program? Will you split up the harness and the cock? Be clear about it. And if you have the means, invest in your own cock.

8. You have a dick, but don’t BE a dick*

Much of the sexual assault and violence perpetrated in this culture is about violating people’s holes. I don’t say that to be a downer and to ruin the sexytimes mood of all this strap-on fun stuff, but rather to encourage you to be mindful and sensitive about strapping on and playing.

It is a rare and intimate thing, to cross the barrier of someone’s skin and actually go inside of them. There are so few places where we do that, generally our skin is a very effective boundary. Doctors, dentists, health care, and sex play are really the only places that happens.

Keep in mind that you never, never have the right to enter another person’s body. When you are lucky enough to have the permission to do so, you better come from a place of deep respect and reverence. I don’t care if you have a 24 carat gold-plated dick, they are giving you a beautiful, intimate, vulnerable gift by letting you come inside their body, and you better respect that. Be kind, be aware, and be responsible.

* For the record, I think we should abolish using the words for genitals to insult people, because I think it tends to reinforce cultural norms that our genitals are dirty and bad. But please forgive me this one time, since I couldn’t resist the word play of that particular title!

9. Your orgasm is your responsibility

Your dick is not a magical instrument that will give people orgasms just by touching them, or just by putting it in and out of their hole. Most of us don’t have bodies who can come from penetration alone, regardless of the hole that is penetrated. Fuck yes, it can feel good, and can lead to a whopping big explosive orgasm, but most of us need some sort of other stimulation at the same time. Maybe it’s a vibrator on our clit, or a mouth on our factory-installed dick, or some dirty words whispered in our ear, or some physical restraint to struggle against. That’s the fun part: What do your lovers need in order to get them tipped over the edge? Ask them, discuss it with them, and experiment!

If you are the one strapped on, you probably won’t come just from having the base of a strap-on pounding against your pubic mound. Experiment with sensation and see if you can reproduce your favorite ways to get off. Do you need something inside you? Something in your ass? Some vibration? More direct stimulation on your clit? There are ways to make that happen and strap on at the same time. You just gotta be creative, and try some things out.

Either way, you’re the one who best knows how you get off and what feels good for your body. Ask your lover to help get you tipped over the edge, but know that your orgasm is your responsibility, and you are way more likely to get what you want if you’re able to articulate what would feel pleasurable for your body.

10. Use the right tool for the right job

Or, at least, make sure you have the right expectations. The different holes on our bodies have different capacities, and what one hole can take might not translate to what another hole can take. Same for multiple partners—some people can take a lot, some people can not take as much. Can you afford ten different cocks so you can pick and choose a long, slender one when you want to do some ass play with this person, and a different thinner, shorter one when you want to receive blow jobs, and a big giant thick one for that one lover who is a size queen? Then lucky you! But most of us can’t afford that. So get a really good, solid, average-size cock (I usually suggest something in the range of 1.25”x6.5”), and adjust your expectations: You might only get to use the tip of it in one hole, or the first half of it in another, and you might want to supplement with some fingers for the hungry holes (or start with your dick and upgrade to your fist, if they really need more).

There are dozens and dozens of cocks, harnesses, and accessories for strapping on and playing. I’ve got a huge archive of reviews here on Sugarbutch, so browse through those to get a feel of what might be the right tool for YOUR specific jobs.

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Check it out: New “Cock Confidence Guide”

thinkin' about cock

Do you want to play with strap-on sex? Do you want to feel more confident strapping on and playing?

Then head on over to the Cock Confidence Guide and see what kind of services I offer, from being your personal strap-on shopping guide to hands-on cock-on support and help. I also teach workshops, Cock Confidence and Advanced Cock Confidence!

www.sugarbutch.net/cock-confidence has all the info you need.

PS: I’m pretty excited that the Cock Confidence Guide debuted today on Erika Moen’s site Oh Joy Sex Toy, in her pegging/blog job review of the strap-on silicone dick Velvet!

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!

Ask Mr. Sexsmith: Tomboi vs RodeoH brief-style harness?

Dear Mr. Sexsmith,

Have you tried the Spare Parts Tomboi Harness? I saw your review of the RodeoH and agree with the lack of clit stimulation. I was wondering how the Tomboi compares. Would love your feedback before spending $80 on it if you have any!

Luke

Hi Luke!

Yes, I have tried the Tomboi harness. I think it’s better than the RodeoH in fabric and fit—the RodeoH is so much cut like girl panties, not like boy briefs, that drives me nuts particularly. But just like the RodeoH, there’s no particular tight fabric that goes near my bits like on a regular harness (of any fabric), and it really doesn’t do much for my own stimulation. The hole for the dildo to go through is also quite high—most harnesses are made for them to ride on the pubic bone, not get right aligned with the clit or lower, so it’s hard to have sensation from the back of the cock/base of the cock, too.

Your milage may vary, of course! And both the RodeoH and Tomboi leave pretty decent room for good access under a cock for your own bits to be stimulated, so that is a plus for a lot of people.

But for me, I know I need a lot of direct contact, kind of hard, and often repeated, so it’s really hard for me to use any brief or underwear harnesses to have enough stimulation to get off. I definitely think the Tomboi is better quality and will last much longer (I’ve had RodeoH’s fall apart after just one or two times through the washer). Still, it’s a lot. If you are going to invest, I’d wait for one of those sales days that Babeland or Good Vibes has—often online, often around the holidays—and at least cut it down in price.

I do think it’s super fun for packing and wearing a dick out. Oh—and I do think wearing a cock that has balls can sometimes increase the sensation, too, since sometimes the balls hang low enough to stimulate me a little more. Just one last thought

I hope that’s helpful! And hope you find a good harness that works well for you.

Sinclair

tomboi
The Spareparts Tomboi briefs harness

Review: Love Bump, aka Shilo’s Balls by New York Toy Collective

I have long ranted and raved about Shilo, the pack and play dildo by New York Toy Collective, but I haven’t much mentioned Shilo’s Balls, offically called the Love Bump.

I had my hesitations about the Love Bump. It’s kind of odd to be able to add and remove the balls from the dick, kind of … disembodies them in a way that is weird. I have had mixed feelings about balls in general, through my 15+ years (!!) of using a strap on for sex. In the beginning, I was often shamed by my partners for wanting dicks with balls, or for wanting anything that looked realistic. It was deemed “not lesbian enough” and only very non-realistic looking dicks were approved in that relationship.

Now, there is nothing wrong with wanting a dick that doesn’t look realistic. If that’s what you want, I totally support that. But in my book, it’s not okay to shame someone for wanting something that you don’t want. I’d love to encourage us to talk about things in terms of “our personal likes and dislikes” rather than “why someone else liking something that I don’t like is bad and wrong.”

As the trans movements have grown in the recent decades, so too have the options of realistic looking strap on dicks in feminist and queer toy stores. More and more of the dicks are realistically shaped and colored. I’ve heard a lot of folks wanting for less realistic colors lately, actually. (Which is why it’s exciting that NYTC is offering the Shilo in other colors!)

And as the options have shifted, and my own sexuality has evolved, and as I’ve had more permission to be cock-centric and cock-based in my sexual play, I’ve been gravitating more and more toward strap on dicks that roughly match my (white) skin tone, realistic shapes, and balls.

I like how the balls feel. I like the weight. I like how my underwear cups them a little bit, and holds them, cradling. I like having them sucked on and played with. I like how they hang and smack against the person I’m fucking.

Photo from SCW
Photo from SCW
There are a lot of things that make Shilo’s Balls really cool. Like:

1. Detachable.

I’ve never seen “balls sold separately” on a dildo before, so this is new. It seems a little odd and, like I said, disembodied, except when you realize what some of the perks are: a) removing them to have a more discreet package (or adding them to juice up your package, if you want that), and putting them on when you are ready to play; b) turning them upside down when fucking face to face in order to stimulate the person’s clit (assuming that they have a clit that wants to be stimulated in that way); c) adding them to other dildos.

2. Silicone.

Like NYTC’s other products, the balls are silicone and can be sanitized in a 10% bleach/90% water solution, on the top shelf of the dishwasher (with no soap! Assuming that your dishwasher gets hot enough for sanitizing, check your model), or in cock soup boiling water for 5-7 minutes. It’s beautiful quality silicone, too. Mostly matte, not shiny, pliable, soft to the touch, feels good. I think NYTC has some of the best silicone offered.

3. Vibrator.

I have to be honest and tell you that I haven’t played much with the vibrator. I get pretty over-stimulated, so I don’t tend to turn it on. I’d like to try it out a little more, though. You know. For science. And for my thorough review to report to y’all.

4. Juuuust right.

Their size is excellent and matches the Shilo so, so well. They—both Shilo and the balls—feel like a good size for my body, too. Not too small, not too big.

So, in conclusion: Highly recommended if you’re interested in adding some balls to your strap-on play, regardless of whether or not you have the Shilo. It can be a really fun addition for more sensation, for gender play, or for other role play during strap on sexy times.

Pick up The Love Bump from the New York Toy Collective, or at your local awesome feminist sex-positive queer sexuality resource shop.

Five Blow Jobs

I.

After the workshop. I haven’t had enough of you (will I ever get enough of you) and strip you bare, glove my hand, slide two fingers inside you, sideways on our huge bed. The lamplight is different than the bright white of this room during the day, more warm, orange-yellow-gold and more full of shadows, and the shadows and the gold fall onto your skin like paint. In the car on the way back I couldn’t resist (can rarely resist, it’s so hard to resist when part of our dynamic is built around taking what I want) and slide your small fingers into my mouth. You miss the exit. Your fingers are blunt and I trace your jagged nails with my tongue, suck the salt from the pads, taste the day on your skin. I pull your wrist down to your pelvis and take two fingers in my mouth again when my two fingers are inside you, gently pressing, not a lot of motion, and I start to suck you off. Up and down your fingers like a cock. I hold your g-spot and feel it quiver in my fingers. I let your fingers out of my mouth so you can touch your clit, and keep my tongue on the back of your hand. You shudder and convulse against my mouth, your cunt grips my fingers. You slide your fingers back in my mouth, eager, and I taste you, just a little, at the tips, and I do it all over again.

II.

On the side of the bed, but you’re not supposed to be coming that day, and you do. It sneaks up on you in a moan, but before you can really come you stop yourself, blurting out, “fuck!” again, and it’s the second time you’ve come without permission, and you’re in trouble. You back off and look at me shyly; I am laughing at your distress, you just feel so bad for defying the rules, and the guilt is more than enough punishment. I can feel how bad you want to please me. I am enjoying this too, too much: your attempts to do things just right and your scrambles to fix it when you are so happy, so pleased to be serving me, servicing me, kneeling before me, my cock in your throat. It’s enough for you to see that look on my face, that ecstasy you’re causing, that overwhelming lust and adoration as your tongue hits the head so soft and slow as you suck it down, which makes me want to pulse and shoot, makes me feel my balls (as if I had them) contract and swell, cocked and loaded. You move back toward my dick with your lips parted and I push you away. “No—I think you’re done sucking my cock. You lost that privilege when you came without asking. Down. Kiss my boots.”

III.

Long slow aftercare. I let the beating settle into your body—the belt, my hands, the restraints on your ankles and wrists. After some time on the bed I move us to the chair so you can sit on my lap. You wrap around me, sink down. You quiet and calm and I ask, “Ready to suck my cock again?” You say yes, quickly, in a whisper, and kneel between my knees. I loosen the harness and touch my clit under it while you suck me down. (You’re not supposed to come today, still; one of us may as well.) “Good boy,” I breathe as I watch your mouth, tongue, lips, my cock down your throat. I let you guide it. I let you slide it however deep you want. I push a little, because that’s what I do, but mostly I just concentrate on the feeling and the sight. I almost come but it’s too much, I get overstimulated and don’t have the right angle so I get up and take my jeans off, my socks and shoes and briefs, and spread my legs wider, get a better grip under the harness. You start in again and I imagine what your mouth would feel like. I know every inch of it, know every ridge of the roof and every tastebud on your tongue and every valley of your teeth with my fingers and my tongue, but fuck how I wish I could feel those with my cock. We are making do with what we have and you are an expert at sucking me down, swallowing, and I think about how I’d get tight and build up pressure, ready to shoot. You moan around my cock and I feel it in my pelvis and I feel you squirt on my ankle and foot, you’re straddling my leg. “Ohh fuck you’re in trouble,” I manage. You whimper a little, give me those eyes, those sweet little boy eyes like you would do anything for your daddy, you’re sorry, you didn’t mean to, you couldn’t help it, and it doesn’t take long before I’m over the edge for you, coming in your mouth, yelling out and curling my spine and feeling how I’d shove and come to the back of your throat. I breathe, my body stills. You sink down onto your belly and put your tongue to my foot, clean it off, suck my instep. With your head still down low, you say, “Am I still in trouble?” and I laugh.

IV.

You walk over to me with your cock on, hard and thick and fitting you, jutting out from your hips. “Can you stand?” I ask. You nod. I sit on the edge of the bed. You let me feel it, with my hands and along my lips, my jaw, getting to know its new contours. I put my tongue on it, kiss it, and you shudder. I like feeling how hard you are in my mouth. I can’t take it as deep as I think I can, but I try, again and again, wanting you so far inside.

V.

You start on your knees at the end of the bed after I have kicked you, hit you with my belt, after I told you to pick a number and you picked three, after you took more than you thought you could, after you crawled for me, after my hands in you at the edge when I said come on and shoot that load for your daddy, little faggot and I shove in, impatient and hard, to the back of your throat. You gag. I keep going. I hold you by the hair and work my hips so it goes in and out of your mouth. You gag again. I keep going. I stand over you and you rise up a little higher and I keep fucking your mouth. I wrap my hand around your throat. I pinch your nose closed and shove in. You look up at me, pleading, in a rare moment of eye contact. I don’t let up until I count to ten. I take my dick out and let you breathe and do it again. Count to ten. Sometimes I hold my breath with you, but I always let mine go before you do. I fist your hair and shove in deep. My hips shake against your mouth. Come on, little boy, take it, that’s right, that’s how I like it, fuck, yeah, give me that pretty little mouth, take it deeper, you can do better than that, fucker, do it, suck it down, yeah that’s right, nice. You stumble back a little and my fist holds you up.

Featured image courtesy of Crash Pad Series

Whatever I tell you to do

Before the door is even all the way open, I’m on you, slamming your upper back against the wall in the hallway. I’d been waiting for you. Heard your car outside and keys in the lock. Stayed half-hard all day, waiting for this moment where I could catch you off guard and suddenly, make demands and put forth my needs, use your body.

By way of a welcome home, I growl, “Hey, little boy.”

You whimper and melt into the wall, your knees sinking already, keys still in your hand. I shove you aside and close the door, keeping my forearm across your collarbone. Maybe you try to say hi Daddy, sometimes you do that, you’re supposed to reply audibly to me when I address you, but maybe your mouth says it without any sound behind it, maybe I’m keeping your voice clutched in my fist at your throat right now. You don’t need it. All you need to do is what I make you do.

I take a step back. “Strip.” I say first.

You do. I watch. You hang your jacket and slide your tee shirt over your head. Kick your chucks into the small pile of shoes in the hallway and unbuckle your belt. Click your keys back on to your keychain. The heavyness of the objects in your jeans pockets pull them to the floor without much effort and you let them slide off and step out of them. I stroke my cock, thick and hard already, through my jeans.

When we woke this morning I didn’t get the time I wanted to play with you. Didn’t get to slide inside you and sink into that place where our bodies pull and push in synchronicity, simultaneously out when you’re in, up when you’re down. I don’t understand how it is that we compliment each other so well, but we do. I pulled your hand under the elastic waist of my boxers and made you jerk me off while I whispered stories into your ear, my arm around you, hand gripping your arm or shoulder or whatever I could reach. Jerk it, boy, yeah like that. Harder. Just a little more. That’s just right. But you had to go to work. And I had work to do, too, though my work has less of a clock-in-clock-out factor.

I like missing you. That low pull of longing, of want, is enough to keep me focused and productive when otherwise I might be wallowing. I like wanting you. Always better than having too much and craving space.

I get my most important tasks done and pause through the day to fantasize, just enough to keep me hard but not enough to get off. I want to be wanting when you get here. Maybe the second or third time I do this, the vision forms to take you before you’ve even walked in the door. These scenes come to my mind almost fully formed sometimes, like a film I’m watching rather than something I’m creating. When I wonder what next to do, I just watch and listen for a minute, and it shows up.

You drop your tight white boy briefs next to your jeans and as you’re straightening up, looking at me shy with just a slight shiver in your shoulders, I lock the door behind you and I’m ready. “Down.”

You drop effortlessly, in one fluid movement, and I push your mouth to my zipper before you’re even situated. You lean into my hips and bite at me through my jeans. I lean against the wall and relax forward into your mouth. It’s a relief to have you home. It’s a relief to have your mouth here, wherever I put it. It’s a relief to have that control, a relief to know you’d do it, whatever it is, whatever I told you to do. I don’t need to execute that ability constantly—the knowing that it’s there is relief enough, most of the time.

Except sometimes, when I need to feel you supple and soft, feel you harden when you get it right and fall into the job I set for you to do. Just this. This is all you need to do right now, your mouth your tongue right there, your body relaxed and giving in, giving over, always giving it up to me.

You hum a little through your throat and I feel it vibrate against my cock. I feel the weight of the day, of the work, of the hate mail navigated and the dozens of hustling emails I sent with pleas, draining out of me. I pull up from the earth when I breathe in and try to feel myself empty, ohllowed out, able to be filled. You press the palm of your hand gently against my cunt, just enough for me to feel the pressure. Support, something solid for me to lean into. You catch the head of my cock in your mouth through my jeans and suck just enough for me to swoon. I unbuckle, unzip, pull it out while your hand kneeds my lips swollen and hanging like balls.

You suck me down slow and easy, slide it in, each inch slow until I’m all the way in your throat. “Swallow it down, my good boy, you know how I like it.” The thought of shooting, emptying out right here, pressed deep down into you, makes me shudder. I breathe into it and that rhythm, that rhythm takes me, moves me forward, the rhythm that starts in that bowl in my hips like a quake and starts moving me almost involuntarily, and I slide a little deeper into your throat and you open, open, open.

We writhe and rock and move together for a while. I let the pressure keep building, that pressure that started early this morning before you had to go to work, before we peeled ourselves out of the soft jersey sheets and made coffee and got dressed and were responsible. Or maybe it started when we met, or maybe it started long before we met, maybe it’s just something I have, that craving, that desire for taking and takedown. I watched you go out the door and felt that growl of want, not yet satisfied. What will satisfy me? Even when I get “enough” it isn’t exactly enough, it’s only temporary. I always want more. And you always give more.

“Enough,” I pull out, immediately feeling the lack, the emptiness where I used to feel held. “Hands and knees. Crawl.” I walk to the bedroom and strip, lay out the waterproof sex blanket over the sheet. I almost switch to the bigger cock but decide I want to fuck his ass, so I’ll keep this one on instead.

You’re breathing hard when you get to the doorway. You like crawling. Makes you feel controlled, it’s not something you would do without being ordered to. It makes you tremble and swell. I can see how you are pinkening between your legs.

I pull you up by the chain around your neck (“Up. Come on.”) and onto your stomach on the bed. Your open mouth is against the mattress, biting at the jersey sheet, arms twisted to hold you, ass up, legs splayed open, back curled. You know what’s coming. My thumb against your back hole and you moan and open even further. Your hole is so pretty and shades of rose (sometimes I really understand why erotica stories call it a “rosebud”) and I want to plunge in. I squirt lube right onto your hole, a generous line up my cock, and press . The head is the biggest and thickest, so pronounced on this particular cock, but you push back against me and moan Daddy Daddy and I can do it, we do it together. I go slow even though I want to plunge. I want to feel myself buried to my balls in you. Falling into you. But I restrain, and the tension between what I want and what I do feels palpable. I lean forward, hold my weight off of you while I slide in. Take a bite of your shoulder as my chest melts against yours, still holding my hips up. Slow, slow. Wait. And then you whimper and I feel your skin against the front of my hips and we’re there.

I sink against you. You hold me up.

Hey Seattle: Strap On Skills, Dirty Talk, Leaving Marks Workshops in January

Just come.

Advanced Strap On Skills
Thursday, January 17, 8-10pm
Wild at Heart, Ballard
$20/Individual, $30/Pair, $40/Triad
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/events/140978136049188/
Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/events/139379

Know how to strap on? Great! Are you looking to increase sensation for yourself and your partner? How can you enhance sensation, both as the giver and the receiver? What size is your cock, and what size should it be? What positions work best for what outcome? How can you get the most out of your harness and toys?

Join us for a “harness-on” workshop where you’ll get to strap it on and try out tips, techniques, and learn new skills for strapping it on. We ask that you bring a harness and toy which you would like to work with. Don’t have one? Stop by ahead of class and we’ll help get you set up in style.

This workshop is open to all regardless of gender, orientation, or relationship status.

Registration through Brown Paper Tickets: http://straponskills.brownpapertickets.com/
Join us for the workshop and get 15% off your purchase that night!

Talking Dirty
Friday, January 18th, 7pm
The Foundation for Sex Positive Culture (FSPC) Annex
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/events/387927971299018/
Cost: $20
Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/events/144922

Talking dirty in the bedroom can be terrifying at first, but once you unlock your tongue, you’ll find yourself saying all sorts of delicious things! Come to this workshop and we’ll figure out what’s tying our tongues in the first place, what’s holding us back from being more free with our language in the bedroom, and what the heck we should say to enhance our sex and intensity our sensation. The brain is the biggest sex organ, after all, and the more we can turn on our minds, the better our experiences will be.

Leaving Marks: Biting, Punching, Cutting & More
Sunday, January 20th, 7-9pm
Wild at Heart, Ballard
$20/Individual, $30/Pair, $40/Triad
Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/events/139380

Leaving marks is one of Sinclair Sexsmith’s favorite things. Marking a submissive or bottom can be a strong bonding practice that enhances your power dynamics and deepens your connection. A mark on someone’s body be it temporary or permanentcan lead to a feeling of possession and power, of vulnerability and ownership. Come to this exploratory, interactive demonstration and see some examples of leaving marks on your partner. We’ll explore leaving bruises through biting, punching, and other percussion implements; permanent marks like piercings, tattoos, cuttings, and brands; and temporary options like permanent markers and body hair.

This workshop is open to all regardless of gender, orientation, or relationship status.
Registration through Brown Paper Tickets: http://leavingmarks.brownpapertickets.com/ Join us for the workshop and get 15% off your purchase that night!

Dirty Filthy Nasty

This story contains Daddy/girl language, rough sex, and lots of body fluids. This has been your trigger warning.

“Will you pause it for a minute? I have to pee.”

Kristen gets up from the couch and I grab for the remote, hitting pause on the second porn flick we turned on tonight. We’d shared a bottle of wine. I knew she was bleeding, since earlier in the first film, unimpressed by one of the girl’s one-finger banging techniques, I shoved three into her to illustrate that cunts can take more.

Well, maybe not all cunts. But hers, obviously.

She was wet, and moaned a little, making a little mewl of protest when I slipped them out. My fingers came away with just a little blood and I wiped them on her leg.

The Three Minute Game

Warning: This story contains some references to Daddy/girl, because that is what we usually call each other while playing. The story before the cut is an explanation and example of the three minute game, something the Body Electric School explores in their workshops, and does not contain the specific Daddy/girl words; the Daddy/girl play is behind the cut.

I returned home from LA, from four days with Rife, and I was ecstatic to see Kristen. She picked me up early, early at the airport on the red eye, and we fell back asleep at home for a few hours, made some lunch, talked about what we’d been doing.

In the afternoon, we returned to the bedroom.

I know when I travel it’s best to come back to her sweet and slow, and even more so when I’ve been off seeing my lover. I was turned on (she felt so good in my arms, under my hands, her feminine curves, her sweet soft skin) and had some ideas, but we needed a way to reconnect playfully, slowly, first.

“Want to play the three minute game?” I asked.

“Okay,” she said brightly, smiling like I’d offered to make her favorite meal for dinner. “But remind me of the rules?”

“Each of us gets a turn, and each turn is three minutes, carefully timed. There are two turns, so—four rounds. The first is, ‘this is what I would like to do to you for my pleasure.’ Then, ‘this is what I would like you to do to me for my pleasure.'”

“Got it.” We’ve played before, but only a few times, and the last time didn’t go so well—she’d asked me for some touch around my chest and we both got uncomfortable and had to stop, but neither of us handled it well. I hoped we wouldn’t do that again.

“You go first,” I said (being a top is useful sometimes).

“Alright … for my pleasure, I would like to sit on your lap, and for you to kiss my face and neck and suck on my nipples.”

“Mmm, I’d love to,” I said. “Take off your shirt.” Part of the point is to respond well—with eagerness, or with suggestions of something else related if you are uncomfortable with what they request.

I shifted up to the head of the bed so I could support my back against the wall, and Kristen curled up over my lap. I set the timer on my phone for three minutes.

At first, I barely made contact. I let her feel my breath and nose and the heat of my skin; I closed my eyes and remembered the contours of her jaw and cheek with the tiny invisible hairs on my face. Then I let my lips touch her, just brushing, gently, gently, as light of a touch as I could manage, as slow as I could tolerate. Feeling her weight on my thighs and the curves of her waist and back and spine in my hand made me want her, but I resisted.

I traced her jaw, cheek, throat with my mouth, kissing now, using the soft insides of my lips, keeping my mouth supple. She made that soft mewling moan that slays me and a shiver ran down my spine. I kept going, working that spot on her neck by her earlobe that she loves, then where her neck and shoulders meet, and down to her collarbone. I kissed along the curves of the tops of her breasts, making my way between the cleft of them, down to one nipple and then the other, sucking them into my mouth, teasing gently with my teeth and tongue, suckling, nibbling.

Just as I was getting into it, drawing her closer to me with my arms around her back, burying my face in her, just as she was starting to drop her head back and thrust her tits forward, the timer went off, and we both laughed.

I shifted my position a little and she sat more on the bed than on my lap. I kissed her lips. She said, “It’s your turn.”

“For my pleasure …” I swallowed. “I would like you to kiss my feet.” We’ve played with this a little. It is only recently that I have admitted how much I like it—to myself and others—enough to actually experiment with the sensation. It makes me nervous to ask for. But that is partly what this game is for, and it’s only three minutes. I can do just about anything for three minutes.

She nodded, looked at me a little coyly, chin down eyes up lips parted, and said, “And suck your toes?”

My breath caught. “Yes,” I think I managed to say. I think it was audible. So nervous. And it’s something that I wanted to feel, so much.

I set the timer again and she slid down the bed on her belly to take my right foot in her hands and deliver a sprinkling of kisses along the top of it. She ran her tongue along the instep, the most sensitive part, and sucked gently with her lips. She tongued the crease between my big toe and second toe before sliding the larger into her mouth.

I groaned. It is so vulnerable and makes me so nervous to give over, to feel her mouth in that way. The sensation is so close to tickling but is ecstatic, and so close to getting my cock sucked but is very different. She worked her mouth over all the crevices she could reach. She sucked and licked, moving her tongue up and down, holding my heel and ankle in her hands.

Then she switched to my other foot.

(It is so hard to write about this! And words like toes and foot seem so inherently unsexy, somehow—but I know the feeling absolutely turns me on. I don’t think I’ve written about it here before. I don’t know if I want to, except that I like to challenge myself to make myself vulnerable, to Kristen and to myself and in this writing project, and this feels very edgy.)

Those three minutes felt like an hour. I lost myself in the sensation, but I didn’t lose my body: moreso the opposite. I felt my whole self down to each toe, where so much stimulation was concentrated. I felt my cock quiver and my nipples harden and my throat go dry as I tried to swallow. I watched her mouth move and lips darken with blood and sensation and she smiled and giggled a little as she showed me what she could do. My eyes rolled back. My wrists went slack. I almost begged for her to stop, almost begged for more. I was overwhelmed and ecstatic and so turned on.

The timer went off and I breathed out, both a sigh of relief and disappointment that it was over. “For your pleasure, what would you like to do to me?” I asked.

She rose to her hands and knees and crawled forward toward me on the bed. “I would like to suck your cock.”

“Mmmm, gladly,” I said, and swung my legs over the side of the bed. “Give me just a minute to put it on.” I slid my jeans and briefs off, tossed my tee shirt into the laundry basket, pulled on my cock and harness from the small jersey bag I tend to keep it in, and returned back to the bed. She crawled over me. I barely had time to restart the timer before she had my cock in her mouth, tongue eager again, her lips soft and sucking me down. It’s a big cock, the Maverick, my favorite one, the one I use only with her.

She’s still warming up, but I want to push her.

Review: Double Agent Dildo

As of 7/28/15 This product is no longer available at Babeland

I kind of hate the word “dildo.” But I didn’t let that stop me from checking this one out, after I heard that it’s extra-flexible—flexible enough for packing and playing, maybe?

 
From the description:

Available exclusively at Babeland, the Double Agent is ready to go anywhere, anytime. Made of premium-grade silicone and harness ready, this flexible dildo is designed with a firm base and silicone core that runs up a third of the shaft. The realistic phallus delivers a feeling of fullness during penetration and is flexible enough to bend into truly twisted and unexpected positions. The Double Agent is designed for both packing and strap-on sex. Available in one color, more colors coming soon.

See that part about how it’s “designed for both packing and strap-on sex”? Intriguing, I thought! But in practice, it has the same problems as both the Goodfella by Vixen and the VIP Supersoft by Tantus, which is that when it is bent to one side or the other, which is required in order for it to be pack-able, the base of it really digs into my pubic bone because of the pressure.

It’s a good size, though, and great materials, decent shape I think. The Double Agent would be great for putting on before a play party when I know I’m not going to be wearing it (in my zipped-up pants) all night, but I wouldn’t put it on to go to dinner and dancing and be ready by the time I got home after the date. For that, I go back to the Silky, which still is my go-to cock for packing.

The Double Agent was sent to me from Babeland for review. Pick up other sex toys from Babeland, still my favorite feminist, queer, friendly, educational neighborhood sex shop.

Review: RodeoH Harness

As of 7/28/15 This product is no longer available at Babeland

It seems like such a good idea, right? A cute pair of briefs with a hole in the middle to double as a harness? So of course I had to try out the new RodeoH.

I suspected they would not be tight enough to fuck with, that I wouldn’t have enough control—but I’m glad to report that’s not true, I didn’t have any trouble. Perhaps after a bunch of times in the washing machine the fabric will stretch a bit (probably worth it to avoid the dryer, to keep the elastic tight, note to self), but for now, it’s great. I am annoyed, however, that they aren’t really brief-cut, they are more like girl-cut undies that look like boy briefs, which, considering I haven’t worn women’s underwear in nearly ten years, feels really weird on my ass. I think I ended up with size L, so possibly if I had an XL pair they would cover a bit more, but that would probably sacrifice the tension and the tightness. Babeland recommends going down a size if you’re between sizes, since having them extra tight is part of what makes ’em work well.

Babeland’s write-up also says “just imagine how close you’ll feel to your partner with only a thin layer of fabric between you,” and I gotta say, I didn’t love that feeling—I much prefer a harness. It felt like I was still wearing underwear, which just doesn’t quite feel like sex. But maybe that’ll just take some getting used to.

Unlike leather or rubber or vinyl, the briefs really absorb liquid! They are easier to wash than other harnesses, so that’s not a big deal, but I really noticed how much lube and spit and come was absorbed.

They seemed to work just fine for the giving part and, according to Kristen, for receiving, but I missed the stimulation on my clit that my one-strap harness provides. It’s hard (if not impossible) for me to get off without some stimulation on my clit, and this harness provides absolutely none—though I suppose it provides easier access to my clit from underneath it than some other harnesses, if that’s what you want. Me, I would prefer the harness do the stimulating so I can actually fuck and get off simultaneously.

It might be a great harness to use something like the we-vibe underneath. I haven’t tried that yet, but I have a shiny new we-vibe (thanks, Babeland) waiting for me to try it out, so that might be a great combination. More on that later, when I have a full report.

Because of it’s design, there’s no way to change the placement of the cock, either, so I can’t bring it lower in order for the base to hit my clit, which I also like, and which helps with stimulation. The O-ring on the harness is not very stretchy, and is built in, so it won’t work with cocks that are particularly big, like my favorite, the Maverick. It’ll still work with others, like my favorite packing cock Silky, but I often want something bigger than that, so it won’t replace my other harnesses anytime soon.

Not sure it’s a harness I’d go to on a regular basis (we’ll see), but I can see wearing it out so I would be ready to slip a cock into it without disrobing once I got home. And I’m glad there’s some new ideas and technology happening in the strap-on world. Worth trying, for sure.

RodeoH has a current contest to win a pair of these new briefs, as well as other prizes. Check it out.



The RodeoH was sent to me from Babeland for review. Pick up other sex toys from Babeland, still my favorite feminist, queer, friendly, educational neighborhood sex shop.

Ask Me Anything: How to Give Blow Jobs Without Feeling Stupid

Newbie asked:

My partner and I are new to strap-on sex. We both love the idea of blowjobs, but I have no idea how to go about it without feeling supremely stupid. Help please! Could Kristen maybe give her perspective on learning to do it well?

Here’s Kristen’s answer:

How to suck butch cock: some advice.

Here’s the thing about sucking silicone cock: you have to pretend it’s real and remember that it’s not, both at the same time.

1. Pretending it’s real. This is most important: you have someone’s cock in your mouth, and you need to take care of it. Treat it like the beautiful and powerful instrument that it is, regardless of whether it came from a factory. Start slow. Put your lips on the tip. Lick around the head. Lick all the way down one side. Put it in your mouth for a minute, then take it out and lick it again. Eventually, once your mouth produces more saliva, you can suck it in deeper. Look up at your partner so they can see that you like it, so they can see the pleasure you’re giving them, even if they can’t exactly feel it. Act like you know what you’re doing, whether you actually do (hello, grateful college boys you might have practiced on) or you’re making it up as you go along. Vary your speed: don’t just repeat the same movement over and over, unless your partner gets into it and wants that. (Face-fucking is great, once you’ve gotten the hang of a basic blowjob.) Watch porn: even the free crappy stuff on Youporn is helpful here, because you can see facial expressions and technique and just mimic that.

2. Remembering it’s not. You’re not going to get physical indicators that tell you you’re doing a good job. You won’t be able to feel it getting harder (or limper) in your mouth, you’re not going to be able to feel when your partner is close to coming, you’re not going to know if you’re using your teeth too much. You have to do that work yourself: listen to your partner’s breathing, pay attention to their muscle contractions/their hands on your head/gasps of pleasure. You have to do the work of making it the most amazing blowjob they’ve ever gotten, even if they can’t feel every movement of your tongue. But that’s the fun part: you can do pretty much whatever you want to make that happen.

What do you think? Got any other advice for how to give blow jobs that don’t make you feel supremely stupid?

The Sugarbutch Guide to Cock Confidence: Pack & Play

See also: My Packing Cocks 101 on Sugarbutch

Speaking of pack & play cocks: There just aren’t very many available right now.

The technology that enables cis men’s penises to soften and get hard (which is flesh & blood) is quite difficult to reproduce. You’d think we had better tricks for it, Batman-style tricks like how his cape gets taut to enable him to fly hang-glide. But as far as I know, we really don’t.

Maybe there are things available for thousands of dollars that I don’t know about? But there’s a reason I don’t know about them—that is really not accessible to me. And probably not to most other gender exploring queers, either.

So the problem is, either good soft packing cocks are too soft to play with, or good solid fucking cocks are too hard and big to pack with (and end up giving you a tent pole in the pants rather than a modest bulge).

Here are a few that you can actually do both—pack and play—because they are bendable enough and still hard enough.

Also, before I get to the cocks, here’s an important packing tip: Unless you’re going for the big bulge in the pants—which hey that can be fun, but most of us want it to be more subtle than that—make sure you wear loose, even baggy pants or skirts while packing. Your tightest jeans, though hot, will absolutely show off what you’re packing. Try loosening the harness just enough to tuck the cock under one of the straps, and wear tight undies to keep it in place.

So what’s available out there for packing and playing?

Tantus VIP SuperSoft
VIP SuperSoft by Tantus

The VIP SuperSoft by Tantus, Inc. is the newest pack & play cock that I’ve seen, and it works quite well in my opinion (and experience). I’ve heard that a few toy shops aren’t carrying them because it’s too obvious and not packable enough, and well, yes, it does create quite the bulge in your pants. But if you know how to wear that well, or if you don’t care if it’s obvious, this is a good option. Since it’s silicone, it’s fully sterilizable (top shelf of the dishwasher with no soap, boil it for 5 minutes, or a 10% bleach solution).

What makes this special: The curve is great for g-spot play, and the “SuperSoft” silicone material specific to Tantus is great. Love the shape for both stimulation of the wearer and the receiver.

Drawbacks: It is kind of floppy. Not great for the heavy pound-pound kind of fucking, it will slip out pretty easily, so make sure to stay in communication with each other if (when) it does. It’s not widely available (yet … perhaps it will be, eventually).

Specifications:
6.5″ (5.5″ insertable) long by 1.7″ in diameter
Silicone (sterilizable)
Made by Tantus, Inc
Available in vanilla, caramel, and chocolate colors
Cost: $60
My review on Sugarbutch
Buy it directly from Tantus, Inc.

Goodfella by Vixen

The Goodfella by Vixen Creations is part of their Vixskin line, which is my favorite material for cocks. It’s soft and touchable silicone, so it is fully sterilizable (top shelf of the dishwasher with no soap, boil it for 5 minutes, or a 10% bleach solution), yet it still has a strong inner core that makes it hard enough to fuck with.

What makes this special: The balls go in front of the O-ring! That is quite unique and awesome. Watch the video on how to back it into a harness, since you can’t put it in from behind like most cocks.

Drawbacks: It is slim and pretty short, especially when you take into account that it is really only insertable up to the balls. Pretty good size for ass play and blow jobs, but for folks who like anything sizeable, this one is going to be pretty small.

Because the balls sit outside of the O-ring, it’s pretty hard to pack comfortably. In order to pack it, the cock part needs to be bent under the harness strap to hold it back, which can make the base pinch your sensitive flesh.

Unfortunately, it is also very expensive. But it comes with a lifetime guarantee from Vixen, which means if it gets damaged, if your dog finds it and chews it up, you can replace it easily. Whoops, sorry—I’m wrong here, let me clarify. Or rather, let me quote you what Kitty from Vixen emailed me: “The Goodfella is one of the only products not covered by warranty (another is the Mr. Right) This is mentioned on the commercial packaging. It simply cannot take being bent back-and-forth on a daily basis as the Vixskin is rather delicate. Our warranty actually mentions NOT being able to return things since your pet ate them.”

You can read the full warranty statement, which says: “Vixen Creations, Inc. wants you to be completely satisfied with your silicone dildo, plug or attachment, which is why we offer an unbeatable lifetime replacement guarantee on damaged items. Please note that damage resulting from misuse of our products is not covered by this policy. For example, “My dog or cat ate it,” “I forgot it was on the stove,” “I bit it,” “My girlfriend left me and took the dildo,” do not qualify for product replacement.”

(Thanks for the clarification!)

Specifications:
7″ (5.5″ insertable) long by 1.5″ in diameter
Silicone (sterilizable)
Made by Vixen Creations
Available in vanilla, caramel, or chocolate colors
Cost: $100-120
My review on Sugarbutch
Buy it at Babeland, Eden Fantasys, The Stockroom, or directly from Vixen Creations.

Silky Pack & Play Cock
Silky aka Mr Bendy

The Silky by Vibratex is the first usable pack and play cock I ever found, and I love it. It’s my favorite of these three.

What makes this special: The internal spine means it is flexible enough to completely bend sideways (or down) for packing, but perk right up when it’s time to fuck. Great size, not too big or small, excellent for blow jobs and for fucking. This one is my favorite.

Drawbacks: Not silicone. The elastomer material is phthalate free, but it is not sterilizable. It’s easy to clean with soap & warm water, but do not boil it, and always use a condom since it cannot be sterilized.

Because it has an internal spine, which is bendable, it will probably break. Mine has—in fact, I’ve gone through probably eight or so of these, about one per year. The spine has never broken through the elastomer plastic, and it has never hurt anyone, and in fact I’ve never heard someone say that theirs has broken the skin, either (though many people who I know who have used this have broken the spine at some point). That’s just what happens when you bend a bit of plastic at the same place over and over—it weakens the plastic, and eventually breaks. But like I said, mine lasted about a year, and if I had not packed it in the exact same position every time it might have lasted longer. After breaking two, I decided it was worth it to keep investing in a new one every year or so, that I just had to look at the $40 cost as a temporary investment that would last me a finite amount of time, not forever.

Some folks have said that they keep using theirs, even after the spine breaks, and this works too—it’s just not quite as perky or bendable as it used to be. From my experience, after it breaks it is not dangerous, and the spine part probably wouldn’t poke through the plastic to harm your delicate parts.

Specifications:
7″ (6″ insertable) long by 1 5/8″ in diameter
Elastomer (Phthalates free, Hypo-allergenic, latex free)
Made by Vibratex
Available in pink, purple, blue, and black (the pink and blue seem to be the most commonly available)
Cost: $40-50
My review on Sugarbutch
Buy it at Babeland, Eden Fantasys, The Stockroom, or Good Vibrations.

So, am I missing any particular cocks that you think I should try out, or include here? Have you heard of others that work for packing and playing? Have you used any of these? What did you think? Any other recommendations?

Review: Leather Pleasure Harness by Aslan Leather

So when Carrie at Aslan Leather sent me the Rubber G, I also got the Leather Pleasure Harness, one of Aslan’s signature harnesses, and to me the most versatile. It has various configurations: two-strap, one-strap, driver pad or not, variable sizes of O-ring. The straps are thin and high quality leather, the craftsmanship, as I’d expect from Aslan, is lovely and detailed.

It has become my current go-to harness. It’s what I pull out when I want to play, it’s what I use.

1. Materials

This harness is leather. Beautiful leather. Buttery soft, well-treated leather. There’s nothing wrong with this leather whatsoever. Oh wait—yes there is: it’s porous, and absorbs liquid. For that reason, as with many other leather harnesses I have known and loved, I do not expect this harness to last.

2. Metal (Buckles & O-Rings)

I continually stress the quality of construction in Aslan products, and of course this is no exception. It’s lovely: there are buckles on both hips around the waist and sliding O-rings on the other two (or one) straps.

3. Style, Shape, Padding

This harness comes with a “driver pad,” the bit of padding that would sit behind the base of the dildo against the wearer, but I’ve removed it so there isn’t as much separating me from my cock and my girl. The straps are a little thin, which personally I like, but you may not—I do find they can dig in a little bit. I love the convertible strap style, and if you for example aren’t sure whether you prefer one style or the other yet, this is a great one to buy because it’s easy to change for one to the other as desired. It’s very adjustable and fits hips from 26″-44″ (and the larger version fits up 56″) comfortably.

I’m still in search of a harness this simple that is not leather, or perhaps just a harness with a replaceable or removable center strap that is not leather (probably rubber). But this is getting closer!

I’ve got a slightly customized Rubber G that I still need to report about … the center strap is a bit thinner, and I do like that better, and oh the rubber is growing on me. I love how easily it cleans up.

PS … Did I mention that Aslan Leather sent me a harness to give away at my Cock Confidence & Strapping It On workshop at Butch Voices NYC this weekend? Hope you got a ticket, because registration is sold out. I hear if you come early with a lot of patience you might (might) be able to get in. Thanks Aslan—can’t wait to draw a name and send someone home with a new toy.

Aslan Leather sent me the Leather Pleasure Harness for review. Pick it up over on Aslan’s site, or at your local independent feminist queer sex toy store.

Review: Spur

It’s been a while since I’ve written a review of a cock! The Silk, since it’s so non-realistic, doesn’t quite feel the same as something made of realistic feeling material and in a realistic shape.

Though anal week is long over, Kristen and I have still been experimenting, still interested in find a (or some) good cocks for anal. This one, the Vixskin Spur made by Vixen Creations, is small, but a step up from butt plugs – not quite ready for the Goodfella, though perhaps we’ll work up to that (a la Chase & Dylan in Roulette Dirty South).

And now for The Sugarbutch Cock Breakdown:

Material: Silicone. Non-porous, sterilizable (dishwasher’s top rack, no soap, or a 10% bleach solution, or boil). This one is Vixen’s line of Vixskin, silicone made softer to feel more realistic, but with a hard inner core to still have enough rigidity to fuck hard. Which is my personal favorite and, in my opinion, the best cocks on the market. Et cetera, et cetera, you’ve heard read me say write all this about Vixskin before.

It’s the best quality materials out there—which is why it’s pretty expensive.

Shape: Spur has a little bit of a crooked bend to her, which looks to me more prominent in photos than when she’s all strapped on. As with all of the Vixskin line, it is realistically shaped, with texture and contours and a head and corona on the cock. This one has a nice base to go into O-ring harnesses, but you might need some smaller O-rings to snap into your (hopefully O-ring changeable) harness in order to keep it from slipping out. I used a very small one and it still had some wiggle room.

Size: This one is small! 4-¾” x 1-¼”, which is a lovely size for bend over beginners. Or aficionados, probably; even if you’re experienced this still might be the perfect size for anal play.

It seems silly to even review Vixen’s Vixskin line seriuosly. Their materials are top-notch, I already know I like the look and feel of this kind of silicone. Vixen’s cocks come with a lifetime guarantee: they’ll replace it if it breaks or wears down. The different sizes are a question, I suppose, for reviewers to test out which sizes are good for what, but that also really depends on the person. I know enough about sizes of cocks that I want for a given situation (especially when choosing for myself or Kristen, whose bodies I know really well) that I can generally anticipate what size will be needed for what play. So when I am seeking a new cock in a particular size and Vixen has one around the same dimensions, it’s seems like a no-brainer: I’m going to like it.

Still, it’s always good to be proven right. I guess you never know.

This one is definitely going to the top of the toy box, and I’m looking forward to playing with it more.

This toy was sent to me & Kristen to review from Vixen. Pick up the Spur or other sex toys through Vixen Creation’s website, or at your local independent feminist queer-friendly sex toy shop.

Review: Slick G Harness by Aslan Leather

Thank heavens, someone finally answered my prayers: I’ve been in search of The Harness for quite many years now, with some successes, but no amazing clouds-parting-rays-of-sunlight perfection. The Aslan Leather Jaguar G is my current favorite—or has been, up until now.

Aslan sent me two different harnesses to review: the Leather Pleasure Harness and the Slick G.

I jumped into the Slick G immediately. Couldn’t wait to try something other than leather or faux-leather or vinyl, which is all I’ve really ever tried. It just feels like leather never really comes clean, because, well, it doesn’t, it’s absorbent, and the kind of sex I have tends to be messy. Seems like my leather harnesses only last six months or so before I’m turned off by their … obvious wear.

So, rubber. I was a bit skeptical. But Carrie over at Aslan told me this the go-to favorite, so I wanted to try it out for myself. Would it be too thick? Too sharp around the edges? Not melding-with-my-skin enough?

And most importantly: would the shape and tension be enough to get me off?

Short answer: not quite. But I haven’t yet given up hope on the Slick G.

Here’s the harness breakdown factors:

1. Materials
Obviously, Aslan Leather uses really high-quality stuff. They make arguably the best harness available, and most people’s #1 choice, the Jaguar. (It’s not quite my favorite—mostly because I prefer 1-strap to the 2-strap style, but I do like the Jaguar G, as I mentioned.)

So: The Slick G is made of rubber. How does that work? Quite well, really. It’s a little bit stiff, not the pliable leather I’m used to, but it is such a relief to scrub it clean. It is pretty thick, it doesn’t really warm up and mold to my body like I’m used to with leather, but it doesn’t feel like a huge barrier. I am really fond of barely-there kind of harnesses, just three little straps and an o-ring (which is basically what the other harness, the Leather Pleasure Harness, can turn into), so this definitely feels like something there, but how could it not? It’s a slab of rubber. It does kind of cut into my skin around the edges, but not enough that I’m not into it. For the clean-up factor alone, I’m game.

2. Metal: the buckles + O rings
There is no O ring, so in theory some cocks would fit better than others through the opening, but it fits my favorite (the Vixskin Maverick, which is 2″ in diameter) quite well, so that’s all that really matters.

It’s beautiful, of course. Really nice work. The buckles on the waist strap are locking, and easily tighten. This is the ‘average’ size version, for hips from 25″-44″, and Aslan makes a slightly larger version too, for hips 36″-56″.

The strap that goes between the legs has three snaps for a choice of large-medium-small fit. At the smallest, it doesn’t quite go as tight as I like it (what can I say, I like it tight). This is the only problem I have with the harness, and I like it so much that I think I might actually try to get another snap installed, or move one of the snaps (I’m sure I don’t have the tools for it, but I think one of the local leather shops might).

I think because the center strap wasn’t really tight enough, I have yet to get off while fucking with it. Could it have been me, just a fluke, just need more times trying it? Yeah, maybe. But some other harnesses (like the Jaguar G) I can get off while using pretty much every time. Sometimes I know there are times when I just can’t do it, but times when I think it can happen, usually it can. And I thought it could happen, and couldn’t get the friction or positioning or feeling right enough, and I think that’s because it just wasn’t hitting at the right place. Everything else was so perfect! Perfect girl, perfect dirty words, perfect calmness and openness and sweet kisses and skin-to-skin and all of those lovely luscious things that happen when K & I are just in it, but: no go.

3. Style, shape, & padding
I like how the cock rides, I like how it drives, I like how low it rides. I like the shape of the harness. It doesn’t have much padding behind the base of the dildo, but I don’t mind that. It’s not very “padded” in general, since it’s rubber, but I’m not minding so much. I do wish the between-the-legs strap was a bit more narrow, though; especially in the ass cheeks area, it gets just a little bit pokey.

A slightly thinner center strap, and more options for the snaps in the center strap so it can sit tighter, and I think that’d be a winner.

Here’s how Aslan describes the Slick G harness:

This one strap harness made with sexy strong 100% water resistant rubber delivers the ultimate dildo control. Tough rubber stays in place when the fun get’s heavy let’s you play in the shower, tub wherever you choose! No “o” ring for greater intimacy.

ASLAN Rear Strap adjustment system ensures a comfortable fit for all body types! Low rider dildo placement provides excellent control and lovely clitoral stimulation. Discreet one strap design can double as a ANAL plug holder. No “o” ring for greater intimacy and less chance of bruising your partner from heavy thrusting.

The folks at Aslan know what’s up, know the kind of sex I’m having and even (I suspect) have some of that kind of sex themselves, and build wonderful tools that are some of the highest quality sex toys available. I’m thrilled to be reviewing some things for them. This isn’t quite The Harness, but it’s close. It’s damn close. And I am almost totally sold on the rubber, I would definitely try another one, or slightly modify this one, to try to get it closer to perfect.

Maybe The Perfect Harness doesn’t actually exist out there, I know, I might be kidding myself. But I have found pretty much The Perfect Cock, and The Perfect Leather Wrist & Ankle Restraints, and The Perfect Butt Plug—can’t I have a perfect harness, too? If there’s one to be found, I think it’s probably made by Aslan. Can’t wait to review more for them, I’ll let you know what I think of the Leather Pleasure Harness as soon as I have a chance to adequately review it.

Aslan Leather sent me the Slick G harness for review. Pick it up over on Aslan’s site, or at your local independent feminist queer sex toy store.

Desperation & Dominance

“Want to know what I was thinking about when I got off yesterday?” she asks. We’re lying in bed, tangled limbs and sheets, a little sweaty, breathing heavily still, hearts calming. She’s nude now. I’m still in boxers and an undershirt. I’ve taken advantage of the ongoing permission I have to fuck her, take her, if I wake in the middle of the night or before her in the morning, as I often do, like this morning, hands on her, fingers in her, forearm holding her down by her collarbone until she thrashed and came and muffled a scream into my shoulder.

“Yes,” I answer, arm under her neck, the other hand on her hip and curved under her thigh and ass as she drapes herself over me partly.

“I was thinking about … you using me,” she starts in a small voice, quiet, by my ear. I can feel her breath. “Filling me up. Fucking me and fucking me without caring how it was for me. I was thinking about tears streaming down my cheeks, and you not stopping, just … taking me, until you get what you want, and you come.”

I bow my head a little to find her mouth by feel in the dark bedroom. “I like to use you like that,” I say. She nods. “Let’s play later.” She nods again, pulls closer to me.

This story contains Daddy/girl roles in sex play, some domination and submission, and lots of tender loving care. Continue reading with that knowledge, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Review: Black Cat G (Harness)

blackcatAre you getting sick of harness reviews yet? I hope not, because I still haven’t found The Perfect Harness (which may or may not actually exist).

This is the Black Cat G harness by Aslan Leather, sent to me from Eden Fantasys. Let’s break it down by the basic harness features:

Material
The Black Cat G is vinyl, which is why I picked it up, actually. Seems like most harnesses – the really nice ones, anyway – are leather, but I’ve been having trouble keeping my leather harnesses clean, so I thought I might try a waterproof material instead. It’s alright – definitely easier to clean, and I’m less worried about it, but the straps are pretty wide and the material is not very pliable. I recently reviewed the new one-strap version of the Jaguar harness, called the Jaguar G, also from Aslan Leather, and the leather is just so buttery and soft and beautiful, something this thick and dense and kind of, well, hard, is fairly unpleasant, especially when it’s between my legs and pressed up against my, ahem, slightly more delicate places.

Shape
The front panel of this harness is pretty big. I much prefer minimalistic harnesses (like the Bare as you Dare, though the buckles are weak and it slips a LOT) and the excessive material gets in the way of being pressed skin-to-skin, which I don’t like. I want the harness and cock to feel like part of me, I don’t want it to cover up my skin and make me less sensitive and less feeling of the experience.

This is especially a problem in the triangle front panel part, where the O-ring resides, but it’s also a problem with the straps. It’s kind of nice to have wide straps around my hips, they don’t dig in as much, but the wide strap between my legs pinches and is rather uncomfortable. It’s not so bad in the front, but especially in the back, it’s way too wide.

Buckles & O-Rings
The buckles are standard, locking, and very decent; it doesn’t slip around and since it isn’t leather, it doesn’t stretch with body heat, and stays tight. I like that.

The center strap, that goes through the legs, is connected with snaps instead of buckles, which means that there are only a few options for how tight it can get – I tend to wear harnesses very low on my hips and very tight between my legs, and that’s not possible with this one, because in order for the center strap to be taut it has to be much longer, and the tautness is ultimately most important. So, I don’t like that it snaps instead of buckles (or instead of having D-rings to make the length more variable).

The O-ring is rather difficult … it has two snaps, at the top and bottom, so the ring itself is interchangeable, so you can use any size O-ring (and thus any size cock), but there is also a hole in the front panel behind the O-ring. So you can either put the cock through the panel AND the O-ring, or just put it through the O-ring. The hole in the panel is only 1 3/4″ (and thus not big enough for my favorite go-to cock, the Maverick by Vixskin), and if trying to get a rather big cock into the O-ring without putting it through the panel, it’s hard to get the snaps closed. It’s not really made to use with a cock that is outside of the back panel – but again, Maverick, the cock I use 95% of the time, is too big for the panel, so I this harness isn’t The Perfect Harness.

One Last Thing …

I do like the vinyl material though – I expected it to be kind of squeaky and weird, but I would try another harness that is not leather in my quest.

In going over the Sugarbutch tag for “harness”, I noticed there are some harnesses I’ve reviewed but haven’t posted about here yet, like these two:

joque jaguar G

Buy the Black Cat G harness from Aslan Leather at Eden Fantasys or your local independent feminist queer-friendly sex-positive sex toy shop. Thanks to Eden for providing me with one to review.

Jaguar G - G-string | Review by Sinclair Sexsmith

Review: Buck

Oh, Vixskin. (Sigh & swoon.)

I often get questions about which cocks I recommend, and I always say Vixen Creation’s line of Vixskin material. They are very realistic, made with or without balls, in lots of different sizes, and come in three colors: chocolate, caramel, and vanilla. I find the vanilla matches my skin tone best, but I do have a caramel which is not far off, and still feels like mine.

buckThe one I am going to tell you about today is Buck.

Material

Like Bandit, Lonestar, and oh, EVERY SINGLE OTHER cock in the Vixskin line, the material for Buck is fantastic. It’s high quality silicone, which means it is completely sterilizable and one of the safest materials available on the market, but the Vixskin type of silicone is also much more pliable than regular silicone.

(But if you’ve been following Sugarbutch, or are aware of materials already, you probably know this.)

Shape

This one’s pretty typically shaped. It is a bit veiny, which I don’t actually love, but I suppose I don’t mind. Maybe it’s some leftover hesitations about having something realistic, and though I now definitely crave something realistically shaped (like with a head and corona) and colored, but all the veins are a little bit too … skin like? fake? Something, I’m not sure what. No balls on this one, and not quite as floppy as something like Lonestar.

Size

Buck is a very lovely size, I gotta say. It is 6″ x 2″ – I thought it might be a bit small, since the Vixskin cock Maverick (7″x2″) is my very favorite, but that extra inch is not as missed as I expected. Holding Buck next to Maverick, it seems like Buck is a tiny bit smaller around, but they say it’s the same girth. Maybe it’s that Buck has a 2″ head but then tapers a bit smaller and has a 2″ base, but Maverick is pretty much the same width all the way down.

Maverick is just a wee bit too big for good blow jobs. I kind of like that it’s a wee bit too big, I kind of like seeing Kristen try and gasp and gag a little, which she is very willing to do. But Buck is just about perfect. I thought it was the girth that was too much, but perhaps the way Buck tapers that eases that issue. And because it’s a little bit shorter, she can take it closer to all the way down. (Something I always love.)

Buck has quickly become my go-to (after Maverick). My second favorite Vixskin cock, and works for just about all the kinds of sex I might be craving to have. Definitely recommended, especially for folks who think the 7″x2″ of the Maverick is a little intimidating.

Buck was sent to me by Eden Fantasys for review. Buy Buck at Eden Fantasys or your local queer, feminist, sex-positive sex toy shop.

Sex toys - EdenFantasys adult toys store

Keeping a Leather Harness Clean

commando I recently got a new harness, the Commando by Aslan Leather, which has quickly become my new favorite (full review to come later).

Though I have reviewed and tried out many harnesses in the last few years, what I want and what I love to fuck with remains essentially the same:

  • as minimalist as possible, with as little fabric/leather as possible, because I like to wear it under clothes to have it ready
  • single-strap so it goes between my legs (and rubs perfectly on my clit while I’m fucking, which is what enables me to get off sometimes)
  • It should have interchangeable O-rings, since sometimes I like to fuck with large cocks
  • I don’t really care what material it’s made from, if it’s leather or vinyl or vegan leather or nylon
  • I don’t care if it’s locking buckles or D-rings

Really, it needs to be comfortable, relatively bare-bones, and able to get me off.

For some reason, I’m still in search of The Perfect Harness. I seem to have this idea that I just need one, really, and I’ll be able to use any dick I want, and fuck however I want. I’m not sure why I think I can get One Single Harness to do everything I want in a harness … it seems possible, when I lay out my requirements, but I have yet to actually find The Perfect Harness.

I really loved the one I’ve been using for the last year or so, which is a signature harness from Spartacus leathers . Unfortunately, especially with the last seven months and my very active sex life with Kristen, that harness has really seen better days.

[Warning: if you’re not the one usually wearing the harness, and prefer to keep the harness-perfection a mystery, I might ruin it for you with the rest of this post.]

The problem is, the leather has gotten very soiled. And I admit, I’ve been caring for the harness much like I usually cared for my nylon harnesses: washing with warm water and a little soap after using, unhooking the O-rings and using a nail brush to gently clean the leather and snaphooks, and hang it to dry. Here’s where the leather enthusiasts are probably laughing at me: yes, I know there is such a thing as leather soap, and in retrospect I probably should’ve been taking very different care of the leather.

So now I’m asking: how do you keep leather clean? Especially when it is, ahem, very close to very wet bits for very many hours in a week, how do I deep-clean it, get all the come out of it, make sure it doesn’t get that nasty musty wet smell so deep that it won’t come out?

Also, is there any way to salvage leather that is now a bit … dirty? Is there a way to deep-clean it?

Help!!

Review: Randy, The New Big Cock

I had to change o-rings for this one. Thick and dense and contoured and completely stiff, unlike the squeezable Bandit that she’d been sucking off minutes before. I like to fuck her with the same cock she’s just blown: the reminder of it in her mouth, the tug of the harness in similar ways. Shoving my fingers down her throat so I can feel how she sucked it. Filling her up.

Except – I wasn’t. Wasn’t filling her. The cock that is perfect for bjs is not perfect for fucking, it doesn’t give that strain of her pussy against me, doesn’t make her gasp and open practically involuntarily.

I wanted something larger.

randySo I reached for Randy, new from one of my favorite sex toy stores and as yet untested. I was unsure I could fuck her with it. It is short, maybe too short; seems like cocks are either fat or long, but both of those together and you get into the novelty and/or gay boy ass toys sections. Toys for pussies seem to be either one or the other. The shorter they are, the harder it is for me to get a comfortable thrust. The other extra-thick cock I have – which is shorter and less thick than Randy – I barely even ever try to fuck with, it’s hard to get the angle right without just popping out of her every time I slide out.

But this girl … we know how to fuck. We have all the angles. I know how to get more space to thrust by holding the backs of her thighs, looping my arm around her shin and pushing her knees to her chest, by putting my elbows to the undersides of her knees.

Cock in my fist I pressed it against her, and it occurred to me for the first time that it might not fit. “You might have to get on top of me,” I warned, “Not sure if this is going to work.” But I felt her open and press against me. “Ohh that feels good, I know you can take it, open up for me, let me in.” She moaned and pressed her thighs open.

I slide inside with caution, feeling her swallow me and close up as I pressed all the way in. She brought her legs around my waist, arms around my shoulders, then up under the pillows, pushing the headboard away to press against me harder. I shouldn’t have been worried; we could fuck with this just fine.

Keeping one hand on the cock so I can feel it in and out, so I can know if it comes out, so I can feel her tight against me, and the other hand with my fingers in her mouth, or palm covering her mouth, “quiet girl, it’s early, don’t wake the neighbors,” or hand gripped on her upper arm or behind her head for leverage, she came two, four, I don’t know how many times. My fingers thrum her clit and she comes again, again.

She started squirming, pressing desperate against me with that hungry desire that means she wants more, wants it harder. Soon enough she started asking for it, too, her whine in my ear, getting rhythmic and repeditive, give it to me give it to me, yeah fuck me deep, fuck me deep, fuck me deep and I fumbled a little. “You sure? You okay? It’s kind of big, I don’t want to hurt you – ”

“No, it’s good, it’s so good, give me more, more baby more.”

Alright, fuck it. I hadn’t realized how much I’d been holding back, unsure of driving this new thing. But here she was begging, she’d already come half a dozen times at least, surely she can handle it.

She came again, harder this time, our eyes catching and breath slowing. Then she asked, “Can I get on top?”

Why not. Try out another angle, make sure it’s a thorough review. (Ah the things I do for my work.)

“You might need more lube … ” I reached for the bottle on my nightstand as she lowered onto my cock with a moan. Okay, maybe not.

“I’m … so … wet,” she managed, before starting to rock back and forth and losing her words.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that. I lose myself when she’s on top, and I just love to look at her, watch her, feel her, run my hands along her body, let the pleasure between us rise & fall.

She often squirts like this. Something about the angle. I think we could both feel it building in her, and she pulled up and put her hand on her clit while still riding my cock.

“Want me to … ”

“Do it, baby.”

She rears back, hips bucking against me and pussy tightening so hard that she pushes the cock out, before she gasps, moans hard, squirts all over in a wet gush, soaking my harness and my hips and stomach. I can feel it drip down my sides onto the sheets, my nice new sheets. I knew they would get broken in sometime.

“You know, this is why we have a Throe,” I laughed. That blanket has saved my bed on many occasions, we kind of need one for her house too. Makes it much more fun to watch her and make her squirt, takes away that twinge of “oh no my sheets” that does tend to plague me.

I pull her close, kissing her, god I love it when she does that. So hot. “So, seal of approval?” I ask, referring to the cock.

“Oh god yes.”

Purchase Randy (6″ x 2-1/5″, silicone) at Babeland.

Review: Bandit

banditI’m pulling from my cock-review structure to give you the low-down on the Bandit, a Vixskin silicone strap-on cock.

Shape:
Immediately, the shape is what makes this unique from many other cocks, even many other silicone Vixskin cocks: it has balls, which are made to fit behind the harness’s O-ring. I was worried this would interfere with the strap of my harness (which, since it’s a single-strap like a g-string, hits my clit perfectly and makes me able to get off while strapped on & fucking), and though the extra material behind the O-ring does mean that the harness doesn’t quite hit me the same way, I’ve already gotten off twice while fucking with this cock, so if I’m not coming it isn’t the fault of the dick.

It does have a great head and shape to it, no particular curving, not a lot of veins but a little bit of realistic texture. Definitely very realistic in shape. It comes in three standard Vixskin colors – chocolate, vanilla, and caramel.

Size:
I thought it would be a little small. It’s 7”x1 3/4”, and my favorite (aka “desert island dick,” since I’d take it with me to a desert island) is 8”x2”, so I figured eh, I’ll try it out, but I’m sure Maverick will still be my go-to cock most of the time.

Turns out, the 1/4” width makes a big difference, especially for blow jobs. The cock is smooth and not too highly textured, which, Kristen tells me, makes it go down easily. She can take it deeper and for longer than she can Rick or another larger cock, so I have been picking this one up to use quite a few times since I got it, because, well, shit, she sucks my cock so pretty, I always want her to do more of that.

It is also much more floppy than the Rick cock, perhaps because it has such less girth, so the silicone is less dense in the center? Or maybe there’s actually another hard material in the center of the Rick, which is not in the Bandit? I’m not sure, perhaps someone from Vixen will be able to answer this for me (or someone who spends a lot of time dissecting sex toys, which, I’m just sayin’, seems like a waste to me). So, because it has a lot more give in the shaft of the dick, it is so much easier to pack with! I probably wouldn’t go out in public wearing this, it would just not be discreet enough and does get a bit pokey in the pants after a while, but for hanging out in the living room, watching another episode of Mad Men and drinking a martini, waiting for permission to fuck her again? It tucks perfectly into my jeans.

And goodness knows, I like to be ready when she is.

Material:
High-quality silicone, the special “vixskin” kind that Vixen Creations makes, which means it is more like cyberskin (malleable, kind of soft) than it is like the hard kind of silicone cocks which are predominant in sex shops. But, since it’s silicone, it can be completely sterilized.

I’m impressed with the Bandit. I thought because I already have a couple different silicone Vixskin cocks from their collection that it’d be something I liked, but not something I used all that often. But that hasn’t been true – I’ve picked this one up a lot in the past few weeks since it arrived. I love having my choice of cock for precisely what I want to do – I love being able to choose just the cock to fuck her right.

My slutty little girl.

Or, how her dirty talk got me off. Twice.

In my bedroom. We both knew we only had a few hours until she would leave, back to her city, an hour and a half drive away.

I didn’t waste time. Pulled her by her hair toward me and thrust my tongue in her mouth. Moved her around, hands hard and thick on her torso. Pressed against me. She feels good in my arms.

I stripped her and left my office clothes on, for now. I was already hard packing (not with Silky but with Rick, I broke my Silky again), and hard, and wanted to fuck.

I pushed her back on the bed easily. Kneed her legs apart and pressed my cock up against her, bare, through my slacks. Kissed her, hard, felt her body under me.

I pulled back after a minute and lifted myself up. “Take my dick out,” I ordered softly.

She did. Unbuckled, unzipped, palmed it in her hand, let out a low satisfied hum of pleasure when she touched it. I tightened my harness, lowered myself back on top of her, kissed her neck. “I want to fuck your mouth.”

She arched in response, but whispered, “But I want you to fuck me.”

I almost laughed. Her desire handed to me on a silver platter, I took it gratefully. “No.”

“Please, baby, I need it, I want you to fuck my pussy.”

I do like the way she begs. I nearly acquiesced, but said “no” again, pulled back to shift to my knees on the bed. Took her hair in my fist as she bent in front of me. “Do it real pretty, and I’ll fuck you.”

She lowered her lips to my cock and kissed. Swallowed. Lapped with her tongue, ran it along her lips. I didn’t stop with the talking. “Baby, you suck it so good. That’s so pretty in your mouth, suck it deeper, yeah that’s it, good girl.”

I pulled her up to kiss me a few times, mostly so I could feel how her lips and tongue get swollen and wet when she sucks me off, and so I can have that moment of thrusting her head back down to my cock, pushing on the back of her skull.

She started taking it deeper, deep as she could, nearly the whole thing, kept it there while her throat contracted around it and she fought her gag reflex, then pulled up and kneeled.

“Do it again,” I said, and she looked up at me, mouth open tongue thick, and lowered her mouth back down, sucking me all the way again. “Deeper. Good girl. Take that cock in your throat. Swallow it. Good, that’s so good.”

And again she came up for air.

“Do that one more time,” I said, caressing the back of her head, “and I’ll fuck you.”

She quivered a little, I could see it ripple through her back, and then she did: brought her mouth down on my cock once more, took it deeper this time, pretty, so pretty, so far back in her throat.

When she started to resist I pulled her up by her hair, shifted next to her, put my hands on her hips and turned her over to her back, slid between her legs again.

She was so wet I barely needed lube. “Oh, you liked that, huh.”

“Yes.”

“You like my cock in your mouth.” My hand on it, putting it in place.

“Yes.”

“You like to suck it. You like when I fuck your pretty mouth.” I guided it in, hard, and started fucking her sweet but steady, deep. She moaned. Tried to say “yes” but it came out in a slur.

“I like it too. I like my cock in your mouth, I like how you suck it. You get me so hard, I just have to fuck you.” I continued, cock thrusting in and out as I took her wrists in one hand, held her down, kissed her jaw and neck. “I like it in your pussy too.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, put it in my pussy. Fuck my pussy hard.” She shifted her hips up and back and I thrust an inch deeper, reached around her thigh to get a nice grip on her ass.

Somehow, she was set off and kept a steady stream of words at my ear, every time I thrust harder into her I’d get a nice reward of her lovely voice saying dirty things: oh yeah baby just like that, fuck me hard, you know how I like it, you know how I love your big dick in my pussy, put it in me, harder baby, fuck me, fuck me hard, and when she gets closer it becomes ooh baby you fuck me so good, you fuck me so good, baby that feels so good, so good, you fuck me so good, baby, baby –

And somewhere in there I lost it. Blurted “I’m gonna come” as it started happening. Groaning, harness against clit, thrusting my cock deep in her; I don’t even know what I do exactly when I come like that because I’m so unpracticed at it that my body goes and releases and moves and I’m not sure what I’m doing.

She wrapped her arms and legs around me, held me close as my breathing evened and my pulse calmed.

Her dirty talk got me off. Twice.

“So,” Kristen said, arms around my neck, looking up from under me, my legs between hers but bent and wrapped around each other, both of us naked, skin to skin, sheened with sweat and still a little bit out of breath. “I guess we figured out what gets you off.”

Not that I – and she – and, let’s be honest, the entire fucking internet – didn’t already know what I like: blow jobs, strapping on, fingering a girl until I make her squirt. But this was different: I came twice in the few recent hours we’d been fucking. Probably mostly thanks to what Kristen was saying.

We’d talked about it the day before. “I want to be used,” she’d said. “Just … fucked with no regard for my pleasure.”

And so I did. And we liked it, a lot, both of us.

“Fuck my hole,” she whispered, “take me, fuck me hard, pound your big cock in me deep. I’m your slutty little girl.”

Just typing that makes my knees go a little weak. Why does that turn me on so goddamn much? Makes my head spin. I feel guilty for it, really, somewhere, just a little, a small piece of me that fears that treating a beautiful, smart, strong woman like that – objectifying, humiliating – is bad and wrong. I know fantasies and role play are so much more complicated than that, that the problematic power play and gender play that we oversexualize for pleasure is just that – oversexualized – in a very specific context, and it doesn’t mean I would ever do those things outside of that context. In fact, the context is what makes them hot at all – the consent – the way she asked for it, explicitly and specifically.

I’ve known this is what deeply gets me off. This isn’t new. I discovered that I could come while strapped on and fucking with Callie, and this is precisely what we used to play with, precisely the language we used, precisely the kind of thing she wanted. I had trouble with it, sometimes, partially because I wasn’t sure I could trust her (go figure) and because of how she demanded it, and that if I didn’t deliver correctly there were consequences.

So this kind of play does open me up in sensitive places, triggers me a little bit, pulls on old wounds of trauma.

I’ve known how much these concepts, this play, turns me on, but I haven’t really brought it up with Kristen before. Well – no, that’s not entirely true. We’ve been building to this, been learning each other and building trust and playing with consent and dirty talk and power play. We’ve been building to this, and it’s of course I wouldn’t have come to her on the first date – or in the first month! The first three months! – and say, I want to take you down like this. I want to fuck you until I get off and disregard what you feel, whether you like it or not. I wouldn’t say that! Even now, I have trouble writing it out – it’s more complicated than that being what I want, what I crave, because while it is, I just can’t get there to do that until I know for certain that my respect and honor for her are in place – and that I know she knows that, too. That I know some of her history and why she craves to be degraded in these ways. I need the trust to be there, and a deeply feminist understanding of sex and power play such that the issues of consent and degradation are clear, understood between us, and ultimately irrelevant to the way we play.

So I didn’t say it first. Honestly, it never occurred to me to this extent – if it had, I might’ve brought it up. We have played with elements of this, but nothing quite so specific or elaborate as we did yesterday. But I so needed that extra little piece of consent, that explicit permission which came from her – so I know I didn’t coerce her into it – that says take me. Overpower me. Use me.

We talked about this a bit recently – I wrote about it – about how hard it was for me to get off and how much she wants – we both want – me to get off more, and one of my major conclusions in exploring that has been that I pay so much attention to her, how she feels, what I can read from her tones and moans and body language, that I forget to pay attention to myself. It’s a strength of mine, to be observant, thoughtful, to pay attention to the person I’m with, I think it makes me a good lover and friend, but it doesn’t always serve me well: I loose myself sometimes, in ways even that I don’t always recognize at the time.

(I wonder how this relates to my history with Callie too, the ways I lost myself so totally and terribly with her. Maybe my getting off (easily) with her wasn’t actually deep connection with myself – or perhaps that’s unfair, since honestly that’s precisely the benefit that I took from that relationship: knowing that I needed to learn to deeply trust myself. But maybe the ways I came with her were about something else. Regardless, whatever connection to myself I began culminating with her was so challenging to keep while dealing with her neuroses and insecurities.)

And that’s precisely what Kristen brought up when we talked about it later: it makes sense that it is a big relief, and release, for me, when I stop doing that. When I no longer put someone else’s needs above my own, and in fact allow myself to override theirs with mine. I never do that, sometimes to my own determent. So being able – and being asked explicitly – to do that sexually is a huge, huge turn-on.

What I’m trying to say is, Kristen & I opened up something deep and wounded and complicated and beautiful and fucking powerful yesterday evening. It brings up guilt, it triggers some old wounds, brings some of my issues of overattentiveness to the surface, and makes me feel so strong and powerful, like the king of the world.

I know you want to know more about what it was we actually were saying, those dirty, filthy things that got me to come inside her twice while strapped on, during a blow job, during a punishment spanking for her being such a dirty girl, during some intense fucking with her ass in my hands and her legs in the air. It’s taken me all day to get through this, unfortunately, so I’ll have to write up the dialogue tonight and get it to you tomorrow.

Did I mention how much I am just totally loving my life? I can’t believe what an amazingly dirty filthy sexy hot freak I’ve found. And? She likes me as much as I like her. Grateful, grateful, grateful.

Review: the Outlaw

outlaw_lg
not actual size. oh no. it’s WAY bigger than this.

Following the Johnny review breakdown precedence, here’s how the Outlaw cock by Vixen Creations from one of my very favorite sex toy stores stacks up.

(Then I’ll tell you a little embarrassing story concerning the Outlaw and a hotel room with Kristen.)

Girth: Hot damn, it’s a big one. 2″ around. Some would say, and have said, that that is the perfect girth. Enough to feel it, not enough to hurt (at least, not much).

Length: Um. Holy shit. This guy is 8 1/2″. It is huge. It does have balls, which you would think might slightly impact the insertable length, but they sit behind the O-ring of a harness and are quite flat, so they don’t actually take away from the otherwise massive length. I expected I’d have trouble driving this thing – but to the contrary, it was easy to fuck with strapped on, maybe partly because I didn’t have to be concerned about it slipping out.

Shape: Balls. A little vein-y but not too much. Realistic. Because it’s Vixskin it is a little more pliable than average, so it doesn’t have any particular permanent curve.

Materials: This is why you’d by this cock over any other 8.5″x2″ monster: made of Vixskin, a special silicone that feels more like cyberskin (realistic, pliable, feels more like flesh) but it is sterilizable. This is great. I nearly only fuck with cocks made from this material, it is hands-down the best.

And now for your bedtime story.

Kristen & I stayed at a lovely hotel overlooking downtown Boston when I was up there to do a performance a few weekends ago. We spent the evening – what else? – fucking, lounging around in the king-sized bed. I’d brought the Outlaw and also Rodeo Rick (as Babeland calls it – aka Maverick), my desert island dick (the one I’d bring with me above all others). We hadn’t used the Outlaw yet, but got it out and were discussing it at various points in the evening, playing with it and marveling at its size, mostly, and in one hilarious moment Kristen picked it up and set it on its base next to the TV, right in the open.

Later, much later, we ordered room service.

(You can already tell where this story is going, huh.)

I remembered to put boxers on, and an a-shirt, after we ordered but before the room service showed up, and Kristen was in bed, though nude, covers pulled up, on her laptop. Harness and cock we were just using were on the bedside table, next to a huge bottle of lube we’d had to buy earlier that day because I’d forgotten mine. Clothes were strewn around the desk where we’d been playing that afternoon. Bondage belt on the bedspread.

The room was a sex den, is what I’m saying.

The room service delivery guy knocked and before I knew it, he was bringing the tray into the room. “Uh – you decent?” I tried to warn Kristen. (I should’ve just taken the tray. Why didn’t I just take the tray?! Butch fail.)

He set it down on the dresser, right next to the TV.

Right next to the most giant fucking Outlaw cock.

I saw a tiny flicker of a smile on his mouth, but all in all he remained very straight-faced and professional. I was impressed. And so embarrassed! (I know, it’s not that big of a deal, but I couldn’t shake the facepalm feeling.)

“We haven’t even used it yet!” I exclaimed, getting back into bed with Kristen and the coffee profiteroles.

“Well,” she looked at me with that twinkle in her eye. “I guess we should.”

Sorry, delivery guy. But at least you’ve got a good story to tell at dinner parties! “Once, I delivered dessert at midnight to these two … lesbians …”

A Resplendent Image

Some days just the memory of her is enough to drive me wild.

I’ve been holding on to the image of her in my bed last Sunday all week, rolling it over in my mind like I roll my ring on my finger.

We’d already been fucking, all day really. Woke and I couldn’t keep my hands off her, stayed in bed until hunger forced us up after one. Back home and I wanted more. Cradled her, fucked a while, until I wanted to watch.

I’m perhaps more of a voyeur than even I know. And she is such an expert at her own body, I love watching her as her skin flushes, fingers move, hands hover above her own pussy as she shakes, then opens her eyes to look at me: “want me to do it again?”

This time, she was on her back, on my bed. I wished aloud for a spreader bar and then made one, makeshift, from a white-tipped straight black cane and black rope, her ankles as far apart as they could go, she couldn’t close her knees.

Then: clamps on her nipples. Tighter than I expected, but I know she likes the pressure, likes it when I bite hard.

Then: I got a cock out, a big one, the widest I have, I can’t even get my thumb and forefinger all the way around the narrowest part. It is short, so, hard to strap-on. I keep it in my hand as I watch her writhe for one, two orgasms on her own, as she can’t take something that big until she’s warmed up.

I tug at the chain of the nipple clamps, twist them around for more of a pinch. She moans. She likes it.

I watch her come and lube up the cock, slide it in without much resistance, watch her face change, her hips open, as she starts working her clit again right away.

And these are the images that flash in my mind: that thick red cock shoved all the way in; her hands, both, between her legs, upper arms pushing her breasts together as the clamps and chain accent her nipples and swollen aureole; knees up and rocking back and forth, straining against the bar holding her ankles apart.

I’m kneeling at the foot of the bed, knees apart, stroking my cock, still strapped on, watching from slightly above as she writhes and moans.

Then: next to her, my hand working the cock in and out, my mouth at her neck, shoulder.

“Kiss me,” she whispers, as I refuse to close the distance and keep her straining to reach my mouth.

I grin, and slap her instead, three four five six times in rapid succession. She moans, I hit her again. “Or slap me, that’s good too,” she breathes, nearly under her breath, as I continue to make her cheek pinker, and I do, again, and she starts coming, harder, so I slap her a few more times before leaning in to kiss her, until she starts jerking as she comes and nearly knocks me in the nose with her forehead.

“Fuck me, please,” she is unhinged like this and asking for just what she wants, and I love that.

I shift between her legs, the bar holding her ankles apart now behind my knees and I keep some pressure on it so she can strain against it, and slide inside easily, wrap my arms around her, kiss her hard, and we lose ourselves in it, rocking against each other, going deep.