Vote for Kinkly’s Sex Superheroes 2015


You know how great I am?
How much you love me?
Now is the time to tell other people about that by voting for me in Kinkly’s Sex Superheroes contest! Just follow the link and click the big vote button! If you like my blog, please consider doing this. You can vote for any number of blogs, so once you’ve voted for me, you can vote for the rest of your favorites, too! I humbly suggest giving some votes to the folks on my blogroll, because they all run excellent sites.

It’s been four years since I started blogging and I love that people have stuck with me, even after I was out of the game for so long. Thanks for all your support, folks!

    Here Kitty Kitty

    I don’t review a lot of porn. I think lots of bloggers agree that porn reviews are harder to write than some toy reviews. Normally I just don’t even know where to start… but things are different with Here Kitty Kitty.

    The first thing I noticed was that Kitty Stryker is my porn aesthetic; this became apparent when the film opened on her masturbating in a pink wig and tiara, and my certainty of it increased with every scene – a different hair color, different jewelry. Kitty ears, eyeliner, and sparkles. “Yes,” I thought to myself, “I want to be like Kitty when I grow up.”

    Magic Wand Original, Pink Wig, Tiara, Cat Ear Headband all arranged in different squares in a picture reading "Kitty Stryker Starter Pack"

    The first partnered scene is a strap-on scenario with April Flores. I watched, enraptured, as these two beauties did all kinds of sexy stuff. The communication and consent was great. “You’re so pretty, I just want to hurt you a little bit,” April whispered. “Can I choke you?” Yes. With an attitude like that, you can smack me around any day, April. Call me.

    Here Kitty Kitty.Still006Hotter still was when Kitty asked, “Do you like circles more, or back and forth?” while playing with April’s clit. It’s such a simple thing, but it was great to see porn performers talking about what they liked! In lots of porn you don’t see much negotiation about what kind of stimulation the performers want. I liked this. It was great knowing that April was actually enjoying what was being done to her.

    That’s something that I find that lots of queer porn brings to the table: genuine enjoyment. Sure, I could pull up Pornhub and find some guy ramming his dick into a quivering hole over and over again, but there’s no sense of connection in that. I have yet to see mainstream porn where the performers communicate beyond, “Harder, harder!” and, “Open that ass up for me.” Eventually it starts to feel kind of joyless.


    I felt the okittycinnpposite of joyless during the next scene with Cinnamon Maxxine. Cinnamon wears a glove (yay, safe sex!) and expertly works Stryker over with their hand and a Hitachi. There are lots of scenes in Here Kitty Kitty where you envy Kitty’s role in the scene, but this is one of the best.  In this scene Kitty squirts, and it’s because Cinnamon clearly knows their way around a vagina.


    MVI_5980.Still001Miss Quin is the thinnest participant in the film, and it’s always pleasing for me to see a person of size with someone smaller. If you’re fat, you probably understand how nerve-wracking it initially feels to be with a smaller partner, so it was great to see a size difference like this represented in pornography. Quin and Kitty exchange oral sex, use a wand vibe, and scissor. I was totally thrilled by the scissoring. I have never seen tribbing with a larger person involved – usually your standard tribbing participant in porn is a very thin woman with a specific type of vagina. This scene was a breath of fresh air.


    MVI_9577.Still002The finale is described as a “boy/boy/girl” threesome between Kitty, Ruckus, and Kitty’s real-life partner Ned Would. The first half of the scene was very focused on Kitty, and I wondered if we’d ever get to see Ruckus and Ned fuck. The answer is yes. You do get to see that, and it is super hot. The highlights of the scene are Kitty’s creampie, Ned getting fucked by Ruckus, Ruckus jerking off two dicks with one hand (what sorcery is this?), and Ruckus cumming in Ned’s mouth.

    Kitty mentioned that she thinks the bi male scene turned off the mainstream porn press, and she’s probably right, but that is a serious fucking travesty. This scene is amazing. Something that helped me enjoy it more was reading about how Kitty planned it out on Pinterest… because if Pinterest was made for anything other than making you feel like shit for being bad at crafts, then this is it.


    Screen Shot 2015-04-09 at 12.09.12 AM

    I highly recommend Here Kitty Kitty for people looking for a little bit more body diversity in their porn, and for equal-opportunity fuckers who want to see people with vaginas with other people with vaginas, people with vaginas with people with penises, and people with penises with other people with penises. You can get it here for $30.00, and it is well worth the price tag! Alternatively you can enter this awesome giveaway for a download of the video, a signed copy of Hard Femme, and some limited-edition Ban This Sick Filth stickers – just hurry, it’s ending in a few days!

    Thanks so much to TroubleFilms for sending me a copy of Here Kitty Kitty in exchange for an honest review!

      The Impact of Mental Illness on my Sex Life

      Lots of people have taken the time to start and contribute to the conversation about depression and sex. Crista and JoEllen are two big names in the realm of sex and depression. Crista founded #OrgasmQuest and received national attention for it, and JoEllen is writing a book called, “The Monster Under the Bed: Sex, Depression & The Conversations We Aren’t Having”. Just last week they ran a panel at Woodhull’s Sexual Freedom Summit called “The Monster Under The Bed: Starting the Conversation About Sex and Depression“. With that in mind, they’ve pretty extensively covered depression and sex a lot more adequately than I ever will.

      Back in 2012 Epiphora wrote about losing two weeks of her sex life to Zoloft, a common prescription for anxiety and depression.

      Girly Juice has written about her anxiety a few times, most notably some very good advice about anxiety and dating.

      Lorax of Sex wrote about why they sometimes don’t write because of living with bipolar disorder, depression, anxiety, PTSD, and compulsive disorders.

      Sarah wrote about stopping SSRIs how it has affected her life.

      I have bipolar 2, generalized anxiety disorder, and agoraphobia, and I can pinpoint the ways that each of them has affected my relationship with my sex life.

      I have been party to both major depressive episodes and bipolar depression. When I was majorly depressed, I usually had no interest in sex, because I had no interest in anything that didn’t involve sleeping or crying. With bipolar depression (which I’m medicated for), my desire for sex is almost nonexistent, and what I do sexually tends to reflect that. If I masturbate, I do it as quickly and as uncomplicatedly as possible, and it’s usually out of habit. This go around I haven’t masturbated in over a month and a half. I have so little interest in masturbation right now that I can’t even bring myself to do it. Mentally I am so unprepared for sex that when my husband tries to initiate it, I’ll have a go at participating to see if I fall into the mood, but usually the attempt comes to an abrupt halt because I start crying. When I’m having depressed sex my mind isn’t in it, and it makes me feel vulnerable and defective.

      I find myself almost exclusively depressed as a bipolar person. My hypomanic phases are terribly infrequent, which is a shame because I’m convinced that my hypomania is how non-mentally-ill people feel all the time, other than the decreased need to sleep and mildly impaired judgment. I feel sexually motivated and powerful when I’m hypomanic. I masturbate with a wide range of tools when I’m hypomanic. I want to have sex with more edge play when I’m hypomanic. I thought polyamory was a good idea when I was hypomanic, only to find that I was too exhausted and had no interest in maintaining multiple relationships once I came down.

      My anxiety disorder comes into play in sex, too. If I’m having a particularly anxious day, I’ll have a hard time focusing on sex. I’ll become unexpectedly and irrationally insecure, and worry about weird things, like how my orgasm face looks, or what if I say the wrong name. The latter worry is the strangest, because it’s not like I fantasize about other people during sex – it’s just a fear I’ve always had about having sex. I’ll be hyper-aware of my body size and too afraid of hurting my partner to really enjoy intercourse. On the whole, anxiety makes me entirely too tense to have sex. Some people fuck to unwind, but the very idea of fucking will just wind me up more.

      My agoraphobia seems like a strange thing to include here, but it really does affect my sex life. Lately I’ve noticed that, even in a depressive state, I’m able to get aroused when I’m not staying in my own home. An unwillingness to leave the house and inability to go anywhere alone has made my world quite small. All of my stress, worries, and emotions live at home. It’s my escape from the horrors of the outside world, but since it’s where I am 24/7 it’s where I face all of my internal horrors. I don’t get much in the way of housework, hobbies, self-care, or even work-work done at home, and the tasks I’ve procrastinated on loom over me no matter what room I’m in. My home is the nexus of my stress. I am starting to think that I can’t fuck in the nexus of my stress… and frankly, I don’t know what to do about it.

      I don’t know how much of my ruined sex drive is the result of my mental illnesses and how much can be attributed to the medications treating them, but I need the medication, so I can’t quit my pills just to salvage my sex life. I miss desiring sex. I miss the intimacy and joy of having sex with my partner. I miss the fun of using my toy collection and testing new products. I don’t have the money to see a therapist, so I’m left to sort it out on my own, and it’s not working. How can I get my sex life back on track?

        Casual Ableism: The Conversation We Need to Have

        (TW: ableist language, discussion of ableism)

        There comes a time in every company’s lifespan where they make an advertising mistake. For SheVibe, that was recently, when they ran a sale with “Crazy Edna” as the mascot. This drew the ire of Mary, who made a series of tweets regarding the incident. I will only quote a select few here, so if you’d like to read them you’ll have to go through her old tweets.

        This advertising campaign was in no way intended to be offensive – it’s a reference to Crazy Eddie, an electronics franchise founded in 1971 that popped up in the Northeastern United States. The problem is that Crazy Eddie’s name and slogan (“His prices are INSANE!”) were ableist. This post is somewhat long and discusses ableist language, including its historical context, common usage, role in marginalizing women and the mentally ill, and perspectives regarding the reclamation of the word. At the end I will further discuss the situation with SheVibe and what they did to rectify the situation. (more…)

          Sex in Someone Else’s House

          There is a very real possibility that my husband and I will be moving in with my parents soon. Not permanently, but probably for at least a year while we finish renovating our house so we can put it on the market, and while we look for a home down in their town.

          In lots of ways, it’ll be great. It’ll be a cheap living situation while we’re still paying the bills associated with the home we currently own, my husband will have a better job in the area, and I’ll finally be near my family, which is really important to me. In other ways it is not stellar: I am worried about having sex in someone else’s house.

          Photo of a key holeMake no mistake, I did the nasty when I lived with my parents. I masturbated (and usually had phone sex) every night when I lived at home. When my boyfriend (at the time) moved in, we had sex regularly. But I also lived on a different floor of the house and could hear people coming down the steps. The new house is only one floor, and although the room we’re going to occupy is on the other side of the house from my parents’ room, it doesn’t have a locking door.

          Naturally, this means I’m going to have a talk with my mother about the importance of knocking, and in doing so I’m probably implying that I’m going to do the nasty in her house. It’s funny that I’m so open with them about my blog and the fact that I have sex, but when it comes to the admission that I would do it in their house I turn bright red and it’s the last conversation that I want to have. I can think of 20 things I’d rather do before I tell my parents that I want privacy so I can diddle myself (or my husband).

          Why do I have this weird aversion to having sex in my parents’ home? Maybe it has to do with the fact that I didn’t grow up in this house, so I don’t have a room that was “my room,” where my privacy was respected. Maybe it’s because, as an adult, I feel more like a guest than a resident. Maybe it just has to do with the fact that most people think sex is shameful, and while my parents and I can joke about sex (or a lack thereof) all day long, that just feels very different from saying, “Hey, I’m probably going to bone someone in your house.”

          I’m sure that for some of you there’s a thrill to it, like the taboo or the possibility of getting caught makes it hot. I say more power to you. I’m just not sure when I’m going to be able to muster the will to have sex in a house where my parents are just 30 feet away. How do you do it?

            The Creep Factor

            Ella Dawson’s post titled The Boner Backlash (subtitled: STOP TELLING ME YOU WOULD STILL FUCK ME) hit home with me in a very personal way, and I imagine that anyone who writes about sex can relate, particularly if they’re perceived as women.

            People tend to get overly familiar when you write about sex, perform in sex, or work in the adult industry. To some degree this is fine, because many of us want to educate and are more than happy to discuss things to that end. There is a culture of sexual openness that I try to perpetuate as a sex blogger. I think we should be able to talk about sex openly, but there’s a big difference between discussing sex in a non-threatening way and telling someone you wanna stick your dick in them. There’s a difference between saying, “Tell me how that big dick feels when you slip it inside yourself,” and asking me how a particular dildo feels. There’s a difference between someone calling Tantus’ customer support line to learn more about how a particular toy works and calling customer support to nonconsensually talk dirty at the person on the other end of the line.

            When a woman mentions sex in any way, creepy people (most often men – why is it always you, men?) lose their heads and assume that these women are welcoming all sexual discussion and advances.
            As Ella says in her blog post:

            Readers—male readers, let me be clear—often think they know exactly who I am after reading a few of my essays. They are usually wrong.

            These men assume that they know us because we expose an intimate part of our lives, and they assume that they’re welcome to associate with us in overly familiar terms… terms that most of these guys (hopefully) know not to use on a first date, or even a third, yet they’ll tweet and e-mail us using those familiar terms without even knowing our names.

            It’s like they think that by reading about our sexuality they’ve been transported into our bedrooms and we’re sitting around in lingerie, waiting. What they don’t realize is that if we’re sitting around in lingerie waiting for someone it is not them. They are STRANGERS to us. This overly familiar feeling is completely one-sided. If these men appeared in our bedrooms we would be terrified because they are uninvited strangers barging into our homes.

            And don’t think that apologizing or claiming that you’re not a pervert when you try to barge into our home helps. After all, Ella’s reader that wrote to her assured her that he wasn’t a pervert:

            “To put that all together, and also read about how much you enjoy sex without condoms physically-speaking, everything just points to what a wonderful, sexy, and confident woman you are. Honestly, I was just like “WOW, this girl is just so damn sexy..”, and I don’t mean it in a perverted way at all.”

            Yes you do, you piece of shit. “WOW, this girl is just so damn sexy…” I really hate that this is supposed to be a compliment when it really just makes most of us feel pretty damn gross. I’ve heard this on Twitter, and I’ve heard it on Fetlife, and I’ve heard it OKCupid, and it really just makes me annoyed. Yes! I am sexy! And I don’t need some dude to tell me he thinks that. I don’t want to know when I’m desirable to some stranger, especially some cis man – sorry boys, but “Dick is abundant and low value.” Cis males are the key perpetrators of harassment like this and because of that I just have less tolerance for this shit from y’all.

            I don’t need a stranger to tell me I’m sexy. I don’t need a stranger to make conversation with me just to get closer to me with the intention of getting in my pants. I don’t WANT those things! I’m so sick of a world where we pretend that men are doing women a service by getting all up in their grill and singing songs of how fuckable they are. It’s not a compliment – it’s an affront.


            I’ve had people say they’d like to date and/or fuck me, and from certain people I have established relationships with it’s very flattering, but from the rest of you it’s a pesky buzzing noise like you’re some kind of fly circling my nethers. When in doubt use this handy rule of thumb: If I don’t start flirting with you, don’t try flirting with me.


            Back to Ella’s letter from her “fan,” I also get this manipulative element from his message. Did you catch it? That sort of “I-have-low-self-esteem” thing, saying something like, “I don’t expect you to write back.” It’s like he’s trying to downplay the entitlement in his message. Trying to guilt-trip her into a response? As if the goal is for Ella to write back and say, “Of course I was going to write back since you sent me such a lovely letter! We’re soul mates after all, because you realize how wonderful I am!”


            And it’s also just so awkward for everyone involved whenever a man tries to disguise his unwanted advances as hypotheticals: “if you did write back and one day we actually got to do ‘it’”. Do you know how this differs from the men that say, “When we fuck I’m going to do x, y, z to you?” It differs because the men who write in hypotheticals can shuffle backwards with their hands raised when we call them on their shit. “I was just saying if it ever happened! I didn’t mean it! It was hypothetical! I wasn’t being a creep!” Stop trying to cover it up. You were being a creep and we both know it.


            There’s not a lot for me to say that Ella hasn’t already said in her own post, but let me just lay the bottom line out for you folks again: when we write about sex we are never doing it for you. We are not inviting you to tell us about your dick. We are not saying we will date or fuck you… we’re not even saying you’re a candidate! And the minute you approach us spewing this repulsive harassment that you’ve tried to disguise as a compliment, you’re permanently ruling yourself out as a candidate, because you are actively demonstrating that you feel entitled to us.
            As Ella says:

            I do not exist to arouse. Sometimes I write erotica, but that does not mean I am personally interested in your arousal. And I am a woman who writes about sex, but I am not a woman whose sexuality you are entitled to.


              The Tantus General

              The Tantus General might be one of my new favorite dildos. It’s not the biggest dildo I own (that title goes to Amsterdam, which I still haven’t managed to get into my vagina), or the biggest dildo that I’ve fucked (the T-Rex is 2.25” in diameter whereas the General is only 2” at its widest). It is, however, a dildo that has provided me with one of the most satisfying orgasms I’ve ever had.

              When the General was offered to me, I hadn’t given it much thought before. It looked like a nice dildo, but it only came in black (a matte black, for those who are wondering) and featured a gentle shape with no gimmicks, so I’d only given its product page a cursory glance. I thought the biggest thing (no pun intended) it had going for it was its size. Do not make my mistake and underestimate the General. I accepted the review offer because I like to try new things, and I am so glad that I did.

              The Tantus GeneralI don’t recommend just trying to stick the General inside yourself first thing. It doesn’t have texture anywhere near that of the Rippler or the Diving Nun, but a 2” diameter can be considered somewhat sizeable, even though it starts at 1.75” at the head. Do yourself a favor and size up just in case. I warmed up by going from the LoveLife Adventure to the Tantus Cush O2 to the General and found the progression to be quite comfortable, but given that the Cush and the head of the General are the same size I probably could have skipped the Cush and moved on to the main event more quickly.

              I used the General vaginally and found it quite pleasing. The General’s gentle, full shape and slight curve gave me a really pleasant sensation of being full. The tip did hit my G-spot, and I felt the full effect of that by slowly thrusting it into me. As much as I love texture, I wasn’t disappointed by the General’s smoothness. It lends itself well to fucking yourself at any speed, and it was also really pleasing to leave inside myself and flex my muscles around. The girth is a beautiful thing.

              Heart-Eyed Cat EmojiTo be honest, I can’t say enough good things about the General. It was awesome to use. It might be my dildo bae. I would text it emojis. It sits on my bedside table and I stare longingly at it as I’m falling asleep. I picture us running through a field, barefooted, wearing airy white dresses that trail behind us and blow in the wind.

              The Tantus site recommends using the General for anal play, but since I don’t do much anal (for lots of reasons, which I’ll probably address in a blog post eventually) I didn’t try it there. Will did, and he loved it and gave it a rave review for prostate play.

              Everyone knows that I love Tantus and I cherish my relationship with them. Tantus has great employees, great ethics, and great toys. I cannot recommend them highly enough, and if you’re interested in the General, the T-Rex, or any of the other large toys Tantus is selling for 30% off during the Big Ass Sale, now is the time to spend your money there! Just use the code HEEHAW at checkout to receive your discount. The sale ends Thursday, June 18th, so buy some awesome toys now!

              Thank you, Tantus, for providing me with the General in exchange for an honest review!

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