Halloween Review: The Scorpion

So when I saw this toy for review at Good Vibrations I couldn't resist- it looked so creepy and weird and hey, it's Halloween and it's waterproof. And it came in a little coffin! So sweet.

Generally I'm not a huge bullet vibe fan. I'm a Hitachi girl, for sure- I need pretty intense vibration to make it worth my while. Granted, I'm pretty glad I can cum from clitoral stimulation at all- before I got my hood pierced, I was way too sensitive for any kind of physical touch around my clit! After I removed the piercing, I suddenly discovered I could have different types of orgasms, glory hallelujah! But it was only the more intense vibrators that worked on me. In spite of that, I still wanted to give Death by Orgasm's Scorpion a try, especially on Halloween.

Taking it out of the coffin seriously creeped me OUT! It's a jelly sleeve over the vibe, so all the little legs wriggle at you. I'm not terrified of bugs, but if you were, this would either be the best edgeplay toy ever or would make you run screaming. It's pretty easy to take the vibe out of the sleeve for changing batteries, which is good.

The thing I really liked about this vibe was every appendage- the tail, the legs, the claws- vibrates too and it's slightly ticklish along with providing a really unique sensation. I found it to be a really nice foreplay vibe, and can imagine it'd be a lot of fun to tease nipples with, especially in a dark room...

Additionally awesome? Multiple speeds and settings! Little watch battery vibes aren't normally this powerful and advanced, but this one was fantastic for variety. Some of the settings would be ideal for that bug-on-your-skin feel. Eeeeeeee!

It's a bit of a specialized item, perhaps, but as a sadist who loves mindfuck, I think the Scorpion vibe is well worth it. Get one quick, cause they might just scuttle away post Halloween!

Also, put it to a vote- would y'all be more interested in these toys if you saw photos of me giving them a go..? ;)

And speaking of voting- November 2nd! Get out and vote! And while you're at it, check this out for freebies:

the circus in my blood (nsfw)

I saw there was a needleplay demo discussing needles and scenes going on at local dungeon the Citadel. One of the presenters, Bad Mouse M, had pierced me last Christmas, as you can see from the picture, post holiday feast at Wicked Grounds. WG is our local kinky coffeeshop, and I love it in there, it's super cozy. One of the owners is British, too, so made sure all the classic wintery delights I had grown a taste for were there, making it feel like a perfect Christmas. Add some reindeer antlers and some ribboned needles, and I was the happiest girl! The needles are still in their sharps container in the bathroom at the cafe. ::giggle::

Anyway. So when I saw M was doing a class, I instantly volunteered. All I knew was that it was going to cover using needles in scenes that might not traditionally use needles, or that build more of a story around the needleplay. That sounded intriguing, and I really, really wanted to bottom for it. I love needles, have ever since I first got pierced, but never knew what to do with them in a scene to keep it going. It always felt so... medical, and fun, but also a bit boring. And sure, you can do decorative stuff, like feathers or corsetry, but even that begins to feel methodic. 

Granted, it's also gorgeous- I'd love to learn how to have some of these beautiful piercings in my skin. There's something about how you can use the needles decoratively, and, too, the prettiness of the blood that can drip from the wounds after the sharps are removed... mmm. Terribly sexy. I just wrote an article for Filament magazine on bloodplay, by the way, and you should look out for it in December. Don't worry, I'll remind you.

But, I mean, look! Look over there ----->

It's absolutely beautiful work- painful and decorative, spiritual and sexy. All my favourite things. It's really no wonder I love some needles. 

But I'm not into pain, which is the problem with receiving needles, and, I thought, the problem with scenes involving needles. Interrogation is an obvious if scary choice (the demo of interrogation I witnessed involved M piercing the skin under the toenails- eeep! But I prefer giggly to grim, and I just couldn't figure out how to fit these contrasting things together.

Then I was sent an email, saying "dress like a little girl. You're going to get molested by a needle-wielding clown". 

Well! As anyone reading my blog knows, I've been super getting into the ageplay thing. Add needles to that and I'm squirming in a very happy way. And add a fucking CLOWN? ::faint::

And then I was told I was getting balloons, too. I was the happiest little girl ever.

So I get to the class, nervous, excited, hungry. The boy had paypalled me money to get myself a nice dinner so I'd be well-fed (he's such a good daddy to me, that boy) and wished me luck and fun times, so I felt fluttery and giddy. I ate my dinner, some gorgeous duck from Gregoire, and waited for things to start. I had a chance before our demo to talk to Stabby the clown (I even helped with his clown face! it was his first time clowning) and figure out what our scene would look like. Thankfully I knew Stabby somewhat and felt pretty safe in his hands- I realized as we chatted that I preferred  not knowing what was going to happen- I just wanted to get into little girl space and innocently walk into the scene blind.

So there was some discussion in the class first, talking about some basic info. I wriggled in my seat with a bouquet of balloons, a little terrified, esp as I knew Stabby was a bit of a sadist. Soon, it was time, and I scrambled up to the front to pull on M's sleeve (he was the circus owner/ringmaster).

"S'cuse me! S'cuse me!" I said as I pulled on his arm. "I wanna join the circus and be with the ponies!" This is how it all started, me big eyed and ponytailed, him snarling at me before calling over Stabby to put me through my paces. I sat on a chair which had my legs swinging and sang the rubber ducky song, which added to my little girl headspace, and I took off my dress as Stabby told me he was going to find out if the circus was "in my blood". I was fascinated by how innocent I felt- totally trusting, curious, foolishly brave. I kept asking about the ponies. I really felt attached to these imaginary ponies, much like my love of ponies when I was, in fact, a little girl.

Two needles. That was all we had time for. But they made a lovely little cross on my breast, and I swam in endorphins, giggling, barely feeling pain at all. It was amazing. Then I discovered the balloons had clamps on the ends as Stabby attached one to each inner thigh- I yelped and laughed and winced. Eventually I was told by M that there were no spots for pony RIDERS, but if I wanted to be a pony they could arrange something... and I was cropped offstage as I lifted my legs high (hard to do with clamped thighs!) I kept the needles in for the rest of the class and was deliriously happy.

So ageplay. And needles. Definitely for the win. I can't WAIT to meet Stabby again. And maybe I can teach the boy some needleplay and we can get creative with it... I love the idea of decorating him like a Christmas tree, for example... he was very good, being patient while I chattered at him all about it. He's a great daddy, and I'm very glad he sent his blessing with me for the class. I needed the endorphin rush I think!

little girl found

I'm not sure where my desire to be the boy's little girl came from. It definitely sideswiped me. I had defended adult babies against judgmental sex workers online before, but didn't feel any connection to them- I always said I got to act like a kid often, in the Bay Area's whirl of costumes and parties, so why wear a romper suit? And as for the other side, as I said then, "I have the mothering instinct of something that eats its young." So I saw it around, but ignored it as not my bag.

When I met the boy and he came out about it, I worried it was going to hurt our relationship, especially if I couldn't get into the parent role. After all, he was the one into ageplay- I even encouraged him to blog about it as a way to give me a better idea why he enjoyed it. I thought it was kind of weird, to be honest, possibly a little creepy, and definitely super needy in a way I found overwhelming. Sometimes we'd do a scene and I'd feel the maternal thing for a while, but the next day, I just wanted to fuck my boyfriend. The diaper was not only a physical but a psychological cockblock.

Now, we're a Domme/sub couple. I never really mentioned in this blog how we met, even, but we met at a femdom club. I dressed in my red rocketsuit and black corset- he was in a waistcoat and bunny ears, looking rather dandy-ish and dashing. I was intrigued, but slightly withdrawn as he was with a lovely slender woman and I assumed they were together. We spoke later on the ol' Facebook, and he assured me that, while they played together, he was available for a date. I told him about the sex work, and being married but in an open arrangement, and that I was a little off in my kinks, and he asked me on a date anyway.

We met on a Thursday, went on our first date on a Sunday, and have been together ever since. When we snuggled into each other in Casa Blue and had our first, hummus-smeared kiss, I just knew. I think he did too. And in the weeks that followed, we discussed our kinks and interests, we negotiated, we began to figure out how we worked, as a couple. It wasn't always easy, mind- like I said, the AB thing weirded me out for a long time, and we've had quite a few fights about nonmonogamy. My experience vs his inexperience also gave us some trouble. But we've stuck through it, compromised, and figured shit out.

Why do I mention all this? Well, because with the ageplay, I just assumed I'd have to be the caregiver. It never occurred to me that maybe I could be the little girl. I mean, I'm the Domme, right? He's the submissive. We've switched before but he's not particularly scary, so while I submit because I love to please him, there's not really the fear element I like in Dom/sub play.

But then we realized. He'd be a great Daddy.

We had been experimenting with service submission as a way to even the playing field, energy-expending-wise. That went pretty well- I loved coming home from work to canapés and cava, while he made me dinner. And I always joked that he'd be a better parent than me. Why not have me put on the footie pajamas and suck on the pacifier? I'm a stress case, and I need time outs where I can let go and not be an adult. And the time we really started getting into it was when we were apart. He's been reading me erotic fairy tales almost every night for weeks. And I love feeling myself fall asleep to the sound of his voice. It makes it easier, the missing him.

So, while I'm enjoying exploring my queer Mummy side, I'm also finding myself needing the relaxation of being the little girl myself. It fulfills some sort of deep emotional need in me- the stories, the head petting, the snuggling. I'm no diaper fetishist, but I even kind of enjoyed the care he took in changing one. At the same time, it's interesting how intimate it is for me- at the ageplay party, the first one, I felt wildly uncomfortable and didn't want to talk to any of the other "littles". But with the boy, I feel like I can really dive into it and be vulnerable on a level I generally find very difficult. So I guess it's a trust thing for me, and a moment to let go of feeling like I have to be in charge.

So, I think I get it. And I've noticed that when I kinda acted as a caregiver to a friend of mine this last weekend, she's someone I care about and admire, who is feisty and takes care of herself most of the time. I think that I got why she wanted to just be a pretty ballerina little girl for a day, and I felt glad I could help provide that. I feel pretty sure on one level I resented the boy, who wasn't working, didn't have rent to pay, didn't cook for himself or even do his own laundry, so the idea of taking time away from our sex to baby him further pissed me off. Now that he's matured drastically, and especially now that he's taking on a more caregiver role himself, I feel better about doing it back to him.

It's funny. Months ago, I thought the ageplay thing was really really off. I'm still not convinced that it's not a way of working out emotional issues, to be honest. But now that I'm giving it a go... I get it. It's kind of fun. So bring on the Bambinos and the romper suits!

Adventures in Mummyland

So my first ageplay party did not go very well. Honestly, I had a shitty time. I felt resentful of the parental role, cranky to be in little girl space without someone to take care of me, bored, jealous of the boy being changed and having a good time when I wasn't... it was just kind of awful. I think I panicked and just got really uncomfortable. And I felt like I wanted the boy to take care of *me*, while also recognizing that there's nothing like that party in London, so if I didn't let him be little I'd be taking something away from him. It was a lot of conflict and ickiness. I almost thought we were going to split up, that I could never get into this AB/DL kink.

Then something shifted. The boy started to read my erotic fairy tales every night, and I started wearing my footed sleeper to bed. Suddenly I started to feel nurtured in a way that I hadn't- maybe because we're far apart at the moment, so our intimacies are limited. Having him read me to sleep is comforting and makes me feel loved. And he really seems to like it. I love it, because it switches up our dynamic, where I'm normally the leader. And I thought, "hey, maybe I'll try this ageplay thing again, and go to the next party in little space".


Except I didn't. I looked at my outfits and couldn't decide what to wear, and my phone got busted so I was stressed out, and I was meeting a friend of mine (a LG) for brunch, so I threw my costume in a bag and put on a dress, stockings, and heels. Then I thought, "hey, why not?" and threw in an apron, teddy bear paddle, and some storybooks (including my new favourite "My Princess Boy"- genderqueer kids books FTW!).

I totally ended up happily falling into Mummy headspace.


It's never been something easy for me, you must understand. Not too long ago I was actively saying how I couldn't do it, I had no interest in it, I didn't get anything out of it. I don't know what it was but it was comforting to me, reading to my friend in her little girl headspace, complimenting her ballerina outfit, watching her on the rocking horse and helping her decorate a pumpkin. There weren't many parental figures there, again, but I felt quite pleased to be all tucked away on a sofa reading to her and chatting. Additionally, it was neat because she's like a sister to me, so there's no sexual tension, just love. And it was really, really cool.


So, yeah. I had an awesome experience. If I'm around for the next party in Feb, I may even organize arts and crafts for the littles to do, and maybe a storytime. I'd also love to help make something a little more baby-friendly like a playpen or a nap area with some stuffed animals, apple juice and animal crackers. I don't know what clicked, and I'm not going to push it for fear I'll try too much too fast, but... it's a step towards something I like better. And I'm so, so glad that I'm not terrified of my nurturing side anymore!


And I must've just been cranking the motherly vibes, cause when going through the toll booth the guy asked if I was a mother and if I had a boyfriend, lol! 


I said I had an adopted kid, and that yeah, I also have a boyfriend. ;) He doesn't need to understand what I mean, right?

family matters

A friend of mine just posted about how, when you get to your mid-twenties or so, parents feel carte blanche to talk about or joke about their sexual proclivities, and how it's TMI and usually super uncomfortable.

To each their own, certainly, but I must say that I am glad and thankful each and every day that my family is open to discussing sexuality, sometimes bluntly, sometimes with humour, but always with the intention of seeking or giving advice. We do have a TMI rule- any conversation can be ended or hijacked via the cry "TMI!" so if it gets uncomfortable we can stop. Still, we've always been pretty open, and I appreciate it.

I was brought up not feeling awkward about nudity, which is a good start. I was aware that when outside the house you had to be dressed, and that in the house making the effort of a robe was a good idea, but if something flashed it wasn't humiliating. Often we peed with the doors open to the bathroom. I remember coming into the bathroom while my mum was bathing terrified that at the advanced age of 11 or 12 I had breast cancer, because I felt little lumps- my mum reassured me my breasts were just developing and it was normal. I didn't worry about my top being off or her being naked in the bath. It's just skin, anyway. But then, I was brought up Pagan.

Additionally I read lots about puberty- not just girls, but boys, too. I recall being the best informed kid in school, and other kids asking me in hushed tones about wet dreams or physical changes. I mean, there was still definitely the occasional freakout, like the one above, but in general I felt pretty on top of my period and growing breasts and pubic hair.

So that's nudity and puberty, but what about sex? My parents knew I would sneak off with their sexuality related books- Nancy Friday's Women on Top fascinated the young me, along with reassuring me that all sorts of fetishes were normal. I read trashy romances for the sex, along with the Joy of Sex and the Good Vibrations catalog. I dimly recall the video "Sluts and Goddesses" being on the shelf, and I knew where dad kept the condoms. And I also remember having the Kid's First Book About Sex, which made enough of an impression on me that I still remember the artwork.

That was growing up. I wasn't terribly worried coming out to my parents that they'd disown me or anything- I felt pretty sure they'd roll their eyes and shrug and say "of course you are". I discovered this in practice when I came out in various ways between 14 and 18. The one thing I worried about coming out to them as was as a sex worker, and we had some really awesome heart to hearts about it that made me realize how lucky I am. I don't have to hide anything important.

Granted, we don't go into details about our sex lives, either. My parents can and do occasionally read my blog, but they know it has graphic content. Does that creep me out? God no. I love that my parents have given me advice on questions and struggles I've posted about! Sometimes their advice has been exactly what I needed to move forward, or to communicate better with the boy. Granted, it's one-sided- they don't ask me for advice, though once in a while something with jokingly slip about what they get up to. I don't mind. Sex is healthy and pleasurable and I would never wish a sexless marriage on anyone, including and especially my family. Frankly I'm more offended with the non-consensual airing of celebrities private interests. I don't give a flying fuck who in Hollywood is into S/m or is bisexual or sleeps around, unless they're working to raise awareness and acceptance of whatever it is they do. If it comes out, and there's no activism involved, I'm so not interested.

And  this openness has now spread to my grandmother. We had dinner the other day and had a really frank discussion about sexuality and relationships that blew me away, as she and I have NEVER talked that candidly about sexuality. Normally she just sniffs that she's not interested in "that sort of thing" or laughs it off as "you crazy kids". It was really cool to talk to her about her experiences.

I guess I'm lucky. I don't see my parents or my grandmother having sexy naked time in my head when they talk about it. I'm honestly not creeped out. I know that my friends are generally more weirded out by the honesty around sex between my parents and I than I am. But almost every time, the first reaction is "OMG! I could never talk to my family about that!" and the second is a wistful "but I wish I could". "I wish I could say 'this is my other lover' and have that be ok", "I wish I didn't have to hide that she's collared me more than married me", "I wish I didn't have to hide that I'm a bisexual male".

I think it depends on if you see things like nonmonogamy or kink as purely sexual or as a sexual orientation like being queer- maybe if you see it as a sexual orientation you wish you could be open, but if you see it as purely sexual you'd rather keep it to yourself? I don't know. I've never had to think about it because it never mattered. I could always cry to my mum about the struggle around being a feminist submissive, or issues between lovers. I am thankful for that.

Again- it's totally an individual thing. I expect that how you grew up, and where, and when has a lot to do with it. What your parents are like also has a lot to do with it. And every experience is totally ok! I'm just saying that I'm really happy for mine. I don't think I would've turned out so well if I had felt shamed about sexuality at home.

There's only one statement in the article I had an issue with:


"When people get past the age of 50 and they're still fucking, they want people to know that so talking about it is like showing off."


Actually, I fully endorse this. We are a terribly ageist society, and it is horribly sexist that while Hugh Hefner is expected to have a sex life women almost universally expect that sex ends with menopause. There's no good drugs out there to address the decrease in female sexual desire when your hormones stop pumping. There's very few books discussing the sexuality of people over 50. There's rarely romance or sexual desire in people over 50 demonstrated in films or TV shows. I think that's really sad.


I'll tell you all right now, I do NOT plan to stop having sex or talking about it when I turn 50. Nope. And I hope beyond hope I can balance disclosure with tact when/if I have kids someday, so they feel just as safe talking to me as I did with my parents.

review: Good Clean Love

As the boy used to be vegan, and friends and sweeties of mine similarly prefer vegan, latex-safe, silicone safe, glycerin free stuff, I find myself looking for new lubes that fit the bill. Sometimes I prefer a more liquid one, sometimes I want something a bit thicker, particularly for anal play.

Well, I got to try out a new lube to me- Good Clean Love, which is vegan, thicker, and contains no petrochemicals, no parabens, and no glycerin.

It's clear, and mine had a nice light scent to it- lavender rose. It says that one is lightly flavoured- I can't say I tasted it myself, but I also appreciated that it didn't smell bad or taste awful. I also really liked the thickness of the lubricant- I used it for masturbating with my hitachi, but I think it would be equally pleasurable for anal play, and it's nice having a lube you can use for both!

It's a good lube to try with people who have sensitivities as most potential irritants/allergens are absent in it.

Only complaint? I wish it came in a pump bottle. That's probably the only fault I found with Good Clean Love- it comes in a flit top bottle, which means lube-y hands trying to open it mid-play, potentially. Otherwise I think it's a great lubricant- and water based, so if it gets sticky, just spit on it. ;)

Feel it for yourself at Good Vibrations!

out

I can't really say there was a time relating to my sexuality that I was closeted. As I grew up, and expanded my interests, I felt pretty comfortable telling my friends and family where I was going- I came out as bisexual, then as kinky, then as poly, then as queer. I'm very lucky in that way. Even when I was in school, where being queer wasn't ok, I made it through without too much hassle. While I basically live my life under a stage name, I do so because it keeps my legal name and persona online and even with all the crazy stuff I run and do separate. I don't get much hassle in the day to day, but you never know about legal stuff!

Coming Out Day makes me think about how it's a day to commemorate sharing these intimate but incredibly important realities. It's to show support, to say "you aren't alone". And it's about taking the risk yourself, to put yourself out there without knowing what the result will be. So, while I'm not quiet about being a queer, nonmonogamous kinky femme, there's some things I have kept quiet that I'm going to share now.

-I was diagnosed with bipolar from a very early age, and was medicated for it soon after. I was definitely depressed, suicidal, and a chronic cutter. When asked why I was so miserable, I doubt I could've ever answered. My parents were ok, I was smart, I was often a bit lonely but kept busy. I just felt trapped, everything was overwhelming and I really didn't think I was able to handle it. I spent 6 years in and out of emergency rooms and residential living programs and witnessed things no one should have to. This is the experience that led to my distrust of "the system", made me incredibly and unfortunately aware of male privilege, and hate the way the US handles health, especially mental health. It also led me to get interested in psychology, which eventually led me into a sex work. I no longer take medications and found my mood improved drastically when I quit them. I still sometimes feel tempted by a razor when things are hard, but I haven't cut for 6 years.

-I had chlamydia once. I knew I was at risk and so went to the hospital, got tested, found out and got it cured within a week. That's why I'm so paranoid about getting tested. But, also, why I am so frustrated at the silence people keep if they have an STI- having caught an STI does not make you dirty or a bad person, even though the nurses at these hospitals may try to make you feel guilty.You can have hot safer sex, and you should be having it anyway because you never know. Once you've had one STI you are slightly more likely to be at risk for others. It's not something I've ever been out about, and I didn't think it was a big deal, until I realized that there are people who have HPV or herpes and they feel equally ostracized for it.

-The chlamydia was related to a sexual assault when I was 18 or so, a fourth date with a "dominant" guy, my first experience with "consenting to some sex acts doesn't mean all sex acts". It was a pretty horrific experience, made worse because I was his "submissive" and did everything I promised myself I would never do- lied to my friends about where I was because I didn't think they'd understand, I blamed my assault on not being a good submissive for my Dom, and if I had been maybe he wouldn't have done it, I didn't report it, I didn't fight. I froze. Later I felt like I did everything wrong. It took a lot of time and healing before I could even be present for sexual touch- in many ways I'm sure it's why my entrance into the sex work I wanted to do was through erotic massage and Domming. I feel much more comfortable with sex and boundaries now, but it's been something I've kept close.

None of these things are something I'm embarrassed about, but being a sex worker, if you have something like that in your past it automatically becomes why you're kinky, or queer, or nonmonogamous, or a sex worker, or whatever. Which is frustrating. I'm pretty conscious, and I feel pretty confident that I would've become a sex worker regardless- I was always passionate about my sexuality. But there is this attitude that, I feel, forces silence- how can you be a sex positive sex worker when you have "a history"? In order to be a sex worker, or a queer, or kinky, or slutty, you must've been damaged in some way. At least that's what many people seem to believe. I don't think it's that simple.

Well, I have a history. I am like many other women- I have baggage, some self-created, some forced on me. I enjoy my sexuality most of the time, and sometimes I get flashbacks and need to be grounded. I've been slutty to improve my self esteem, and I've been celibate because I couldn't handle being touched or emotionally vulnerable. And I'm done feeling like I need to justify that, or be ashamed.

I'm coming out.

Review: "Lucky: A Woman's POV"

So while the boy was here I insisted we sit down and watch "Lucky: A Woman's POV" sometime after the much-beloved "Batman XXX" one, both gotten from Good Vibrations. I find it amusing that sometimes I have to cajole the boy into watching porn with me- he's more easily bored of it than I am, though I think I watch it for entertainment and out of curiosity more than for erotic purposes. When I find a porn that turns me on, it's a pleasant surprise, not the rule. We sort of put off watching "Lucky" for a while, especially as we generally enjoy the more plot driven themed stuff. But this DVD surprised us in the end!

The general idea of "Lucky" is more of a documentary with a lot of hot girl sex thrown in. In Las Vegas for the AVN awards, Madison Young flirts and seduces Sarah Blake and Dylan Ryan, Scarlett Chaos and Kimberly Cline roleplay and use toys to come to orgasm again and again, and Akira Raine and Casey Grey get up to some wet fun in the shower, totally distracted from getting ready to go out. Rather than feeling like there's a scripted interaction going on, it felt more like peeping in on queer sex between these lovely ladies, which was much more interesting.

I wasn't sure how I'd feel about a woman's POV, especially one that felt a bit more casual in how it was done- cameras were handed off, sometimes back and forth between the girls as they played together. I actually really got off on the informality of it, because, like I said before, it felt a little like you were seeing something secret, something for them, not for you the viewer. I like that. I still prefer stuff that's a little more silly and costumed or whatever, but I would certainly wank off to this as well.

And the boy loved it! He really likes POV porn anyway, shaky cameras and all- he's more of a Xtube guy, while I tend more toward PornHub. "Lucky" was a good in-between for us. "I really like the intimacy that you get from hand-held POV stuff like you see in Lucky", he said, "it's a lot more intimate and exciting than, say, a more professional shot of someone showing you their pussy and asshole spread open. It's a much greater simulation of what it's actually like to fuck a girl! I mean, when I'm fucking you, often all I'm actually seeing at any one time is your face screwed up in pleasure, and hey, that was about one third of all the shots in this one, so that was really nice to see". Additionally, because it was just the performers, there was a sense of increased intimacy, and also, a sense that they were really having fun and doing the things they got off on, which we both really liked. And POV cunnilingus- totally fascinating to watch. Really unique and hot! The boy also loved how, since POV puts you in the action, how he felt like he was looking down at his pussy, watching a girl eat him out. Genderqueering for the win, I say!


The one thing you'll either love or hate is the amount of chit chat and hanging out, talking about the AVN awards. It makes it feel more like a documentary, for sure, and creates some non-sexual intimacy, like a video blog- but, if you're looking for just sex scenes, you'll want to fast forward through those bits.


Oh, the boy wants to add that there was a "REALLY HOT fat girl!" We both like variety in our porn, and like it even better when it's just there, and not made a big deal of/fetishized.


So yeah! "Lucky: A Woman's POV" was a sexy surprise, great for people who like their porn to feel a little more natural and a little less staged. Don't forget- US folks or people with an international DVD player might want the DVD, but you can get this for your Ipod or stream to own, along with some other immediate download possibilities! Grab it and other awesome sex toys, dvds and books at Good Vibrations.

The 6 Feet Under Club

So on Tuesday I brought the boy to the airport. He was off to London again, while I had to stay here, still uncertain about this visa I've been waiting on for, oh, a month now. Maybe mid October I'll have an answer. It was incredibly hard to say goodbye, not sure if I was going to see him in a month, a few months, a year. But we had an amazing visit while he was here- Burning Man with a herd of Unicorns, snuggling at Harbin Hot Springs, some hot play at Folsom I'll relate later, threesomes, Kinky Salon, all sorts of hijinks. Though some of the best time I spent with him wasn't the rush of parties and play, but rather the little things- sleeping next to him, having him make me tea as we checked email together, holding hands, kissing, his constant compliments that I love really but pretend to hate.

This isn't really about any of that though, nice though that is. I miss him terribly, but anyone within hearing distance knows that.

This is about what I did tonight.

I joined the 6 Feet Under Club.

I mean, I needed something to distract me from Lack of Boy, and when I said, "hey, do you mind if I have some sex in a coffin with this friend of mine?" he said "WHY AM I NOT IN SF RIGHT NOW" which is basically a yes. He is frightfully jealous, poor love, because he loves enclosed spaces and, well, he enjoys some sex, and sex in a coffin for two is right up his alley.

Now, to clarify- this friend I was playing with, R, she's been a friend for a while, and we've flirted about as long as we've known each other. But we've never gotten around to a date- she's busy, I'm busy and often in London, so it just got put off and put off and put off.

Until she asked me if I would join her for this Arse Elektronika experiment exploring private and public space. And how did they want to do this? By creating a coffin for two, with a night vision camera, burying it in a dumpster in SoMa, and recording/projecting the camera's visuals onto the side of a building, of course. I mean, what better way to explore what privacy means in an internet age?

I wasn't sure if I'd be in California when this was going on, so I hesitantly said yes, despite my fear of enclosed spaces. I wanted to challenge myself, and hell, this isn't on the purity test so it must be awesome. Plus I wanted to show off a little. Ok, I really wanted to show off. My inner child was and still kinda is a Gothlette, after all, so why not?

Well, thanks to the visa people taking such a long time to process my visa, I was here for it. So I asked her Wednesday if she was still up for it. She was. We made some preliminary plans, I discovered there were slots available, and started freaking out about what one wears to a first date where you're going to be having sex in a coffin. You know, the usual problem for a Saturday night. I decided on a sheer striped black slip, stockings, and, of course, no panties. For practical purposes. Coffins don't have a lot of wiggle room, after all.

So I laid all this stuff out, and then spent too long at a friend's house so rather than the slow, chill time I had planned to get ready and prepare myself, I found myself doing what I often do on Saturdays- grabbing my outfit and running out the door, sadly without any of my femme makeup. Or a vibrator. I did have condoms and lube, though- old habits die hard, I suppose. I decided, fuck it, it's a night vision camera, would it matter really if I had eyeliner on? Probably not.

I had promised dinner but ended up grabbing some Thai on the run, as opposed to the sit down leisurely dinner I had planned, due to traffic and my own rushing around like crazy. Oops. Still, I got some nice stuff, and she was happy to be fed, as was I. We wandered into PariSoMa right as the last panel discussion was wrapping up, a discussion about making spaces for sex, at parties, within rituals, and on the playa. Fascinating stuff. If you're into sex and technology and how they interact, I highly recommend checking out this conference, it's got some great stuff.  And the Monochrom kids are completely nuts. Read their blog and poke around their site, it's like if club kids were geeks... and Austrian.

Anyway, thankfully, despite my forgetfulness, I had picked a fabulous partner for the 6 Feet Under Club. R is well-versed in erotic film, and sex with girls, though not with coffin sex. She had brought a lovely dildo, condoms, two harnesses, vegan lube, and enough gloves to fist an army. This is one of many reasons why I adore her. We ate, and tiptoed to the bathroom- I could see through the window the dumpster filled with dirt and the coffin in the middle, waiting for the first victim/volunteers. It gave me goosebumps, and, well, some wetness between the legs. I'll admit it- I was scared, and it was hot as hell.

I decided that I needed to have a smoke, along with check out the coffin up close and investigate. It was satin inside, and cushy, with a comforter doubled up on the bottom and some lovely pillows for under the head. The camera was precariously perched on the ceiling right in the middle of the coffin- meaning, you either got visuals of the head, or the feet. Looking at it in person, 80x30x24 actually seemed kind of roomy, though that camera was going to take some manipulating around.

R and I started to discuss how we might position ourselves when a lady came by and asked if we were going in the coffin. When we replied to the affirmative, she asked for an interview. I said sure, cause, hell, my parents read this blog, and Grandma's pretty unlikely to watch SF Weekly videos. So she asked me why I was here, was I a necrophiliac, what made me want to do this, was I into Dracula, etc. There should be video of this so I'll update when that happens. So I did the interview, finding the whole thing wildly entertaining, and then went back to discussing logistics. One of the gravediggers gave us details about how it worked, that they'd cover the lid with dirt, and then give us a 5 minute warning via banging on the cover of the coffin. It was just R and I and another couple, and I felt a little disappointed.

Then, my girlfriend arrives, as does another friend who does fantastic paintings, who reassured me that a friend of hers who was an engineer had done the math and there'd be plenty of air to make it safe. I was so happy to see people I knew! Both of them were curious but not sure if they could follow through. I, meanwhile, took too long to get changed so had to wait for couple #1 to go first. In retrospect, I'm really glad, because it gave us a feel for what it'd be like, how to position ourselves, and how we wanted to deal with things like gloves and lube.

While couple #1 were getting it on in the coffin, one of their friends says something about how she's not sure how she feels about watching her friends having sex. It was interesting how I felt about that- namely, completely bewildered. I've met a good number of my friends at sex parties or other similarly charged environments, after all! It serves as a reminder that my life is not like other people's in many ways.

Oh, I forgot to mention the release form. It basically said that being buried alive is, well, dangerous, and not for people who are claustrophobic, afraid of the dark, have breathing issues, heart problems, etc. Amusingly, as it was being read out, the cops drove by, and waved. We waved back. Just another night in San Francisco I suppose, though I doubt they had any idea what we were up to.

"Don't worry," said Johannes, the Undertaker of the experience, "we have a permit. For the dumpster, anyway".

R and I happily signed our release forms and started getting ready- I took off my street clothes and slipped on my negligee, removing my panties (practical, remember?) while she strapped on her harness and got the safer sex supplies ready. I was pretty nervous, but way, way too excited to back out. Plus, remember, first date, and first playdate, with this hot woman I had been wanting to sleep with for a while- doing it in a coffin would be a memorable first time, though I'm not sure how I would top it next time around.

Couple #1 came out, safe, happy, and flushed. I gave my coat to my girlfriend and asked her to take photos of the night vision projection. They didn't come out very clearly, and keep in mind, the camera was positioned right in the middle so we had to maneuver around it. And yes, there is a recording of this, and we'll get it in a couple of days- I'll post it if I can (I am a show off after all).

The coffin was opened for us now, so I texted the boy to tell him I loved him, and stepped inside. I was surprised at how comfortable it actually was, though glad to have gotten rid of the satin barrier that was my panties. I settled in, R strapped her cock on while I lubed up my pussy, and we tried a few positions, finally settling with me on the bottom, slightly to one side, and her on top. We realized it'd be easier to insert the cock while the coffin was opened, so I put on some latex gloves to guide her cock in, and the door was shut.

It was dark in there. Really dark. And lying there, a cock in my pussy, hearing the dirt being dumped over the lid was incredibly sexy. We started kissing, gingerly at first, then more and more passionately as she started to fuck me. The confined space meant my left leg could only go up so far (I recommended afterwards that they install some rope foot loops to give some leverage), but it was far enough. With her cock hitting my clit as she slowly, then faster inserted herself, I was in heaven.

Together we freed my breast from my bra and she licked and sucked my nipple as she thrusted. We giggled, and I gasped a lot. It was cramped, so we had to change position a little to make it more comfortable, but it was incredibly erotic. The darkness, the blind reaching for each other, the sounds, the scent. Oh, the scent. A coffin fills up very quickly with the smell of aroused girl, that's for sure. Soon she was rubbing my clit while I grabbed her harnessed ass, and then her latex gloved hands were fingering me so expertly I would have squirted if I wasn't so self conscious about the next couple in!

I had been worried about the air, hot air being something that can trigger panic in me. It actually wasn't so bad, and, as I kind of guessed, being fucked while in that sort of confined space really makes you care less about claustrophobia. Instead I found the warm air to be even more sensual, and the satin against my skin made me tingle. 15 minutes literally flew by in a haze of moaning and building orgasm. "Bite my nipples, please" I begged R, and she did, making me go right to the edge. I came right before they opened the coffin to two panting, shaky women, and we scrambled up to a round of applause. Appropriately, we were told to bury our safer sex supplies in the dirt, so we did, and gratefully took the towels they provided for afterwards. My legs were wobbly, and my head, I think, was a bit out of it, as I tried to put my shoes on before my underwear, then thought better of it. After the sweating and the heat of the coffin, the cold night air in SoMa was rather shocking to the system. I kind of wanted to crawl back in.

We got certificates for joining the 6 Feet Under Club. I'll probably frame mine. I feel really proud that I did it in spite of my fear, and am still completely giddy. I even got to watch my girlfriend initiate my painter friend into her first bisexual strap on sex in 25 years, and also saw another friend and her boyfriend get it on. There was a hot gay couple I know from Burning Man as well, which was fabulous. I loved the variety of orientations and types of sex represented. Though, Monochrom, next time you make a sex coffin, let me give you some tips on where to put the camera for a better angle... and, yeah, foot loops. There's no traction, in a satin-covered coffin, and it's hard on the fucker to get enough oomph to really get going.

Would I do it again? Most definitely. I'm happy to have done it, and consider myself incredibly lucky to have had such a lovely companion for the experience. Though, as she said, next date, we're going to go for a place with pillows. And a shower. And, probably, more room.

I wanted to write this while it was still fresh, but it's 4am now, so I'm signing off. But yes, fucking in a coffin is dead sexy.