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[Toy Review] Satisfyer Pro Penguin Next Generation

My first attempts at using clitoral suction toys were pretty lacklustre. That’s probably why the Satisfyer Pro Penguin Next Generation has been sitting on top of my pile of “to review” sex toys for the last two weeks, trying to guilt me into actually testing it. But test it I finally did, so let’s do a Satisfyer Pro Penguin review!

Cute little thing, isn’t he? I showed Mr C&K the toy without telling him its name, and he immediately exclaimed, “It looks like a penguin!” So I guess, name-wise, it does what it says on the tin.

Satisfyer Pro Penguin Next Generation: Basics

Like all Satisfyer clitoral suction toys toys, the Satisfyer Pro Penguin Next Generation uses a suction nozzle and pressure waves of air to stimulate the clitoris without actually touching it. This provides an intense sensation without the numbing effect that some buzzy vibrators can cause.

Satisfyer Pro Penguin Next Generation clitoral suction toy in original packaging
Image: Satisfyer

The Satisfyer Pro Penguin Next Generation is waterproof and USB rechargeable. Its nozzle is silicone, and the body is ABS plastic. The nozzle is removeable, which makes cleaning a breeze.

Aesthetically, it’s cute and all but also… a bit baffling? I really wish I’d been a fly on the wall at the marketing meeting where someone said, “we’ve got this brilliant new sex toy technology. You know what would make this product even better? Let’s make it look like a PENGUIN!” Still, the sheer cuteness makes it non-threatening, which some beginners will appreciate, and I find its little bow-tie hilarious, so let’s run with it.

My first reaction upon switching the Penguin on was that it’s a little loud. But the sound is dampened significantly once the nozzle of the toy is against the body.

In Use

The Satisfyer Pro Penguin Next Generation is small and not too heavy. The shape of the body means it fit nicely into my much-smaller-than-average hand. The main button on the front switches the toy on and off as well as controlling the speed, and is nice and easy to press. A really nice feature this toy has is the ability to turn it down as well as up without cycling through all the settings.

Satisfyer Pro Penguin Next Generation clitoral suction toy
Image: Satisfyer

When I first turned the Satisfyer Pro Penguin Next Generation up to its max setting, I initially assumed it wouldn’t do anything for me. Chalk that up to my relative lack of experience with suction toys, because I was wrong. Remember: it’s not a vibrator. It works differently.

To begin with, I must admit I was underwhelmed. Pleasant sensations one second became too intense – so intense as to be painful – remarkably quickly. It’s so precise that the slightest shift in position threw me off my game. This is definitely a toy that takes some practice.

What I learned, though, is that it’s all about positioning with this one. Being even slightly off can alter the entire experience. Personally, having it all the way over my clitoral glans is way too intense for me. Over the hood is the sweet spot. The sensation is something between a suck and a caress.

My advice when you’re using a suction toy like the Satisfyer Pro Penguin Next Generation, particularly if you’re new to them, is to try to throw out your assumptions about how they’re “supposed” to work and what your body likes. These toys might feel superficially a bit like vibrators, but they’re actually quite different. Expect a learning curve accordingly.

Satisfyer Penguin Review: Verdict

A fun and playful toy that requires some experimentation, but ultimately delivers on performance as well as cuteness.

The Satisfyer Pro Penguin Next Generation is available from retailers such as The Pleasure Garden, Good Vibes, Babeland, and Sex Toys UK.

Thanks to Satisfyer for sending me this product in exchange for an honest review. All views are my own! Affiliate links appear in this post.

[Guest Post] From Clueless Virgin to Enthusiastic Wife (with Psychosexual Therapy Along the Way) by Christine Woolgar

Today I’m so excited to be hosting my first guest post. It comes from my friend Christine Woolgar, a sex positive Christian writer and thinker. I have known Christine for a few years and been an admirer of her writing for about as long. I am honoured that she has chosen to share this intense, vulnerable, wonderful story about her relationship, having sex for the first time after marriage and with very little knowledge about her body or sexuality, and ultimately the breakthroughs that came with getting psychosexual therapy.

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TW/CN: This post doesn’t describe abuse, but it is loaded with intra-personal dialogue that enables/allows abuse.

From Clueless Virgin to Enthusiastic Wife (with Psychosexual Therapy Along the Way) by Christine Woolgar, Sex Positive Christian Writer and Thinker

Night 1 minus 5 days: My period is late. Darn, I thought my body had fully adjusted to the pill already. I don’t want to have sex on my period but I don’t want an argument on Night 1. I don’t want disappointment on Night 1. So I tell him now that I won’t want sex on Night 1. He agrees. We both figure it’s for the best as we’ll be tired from the wedding anyway.

Night 1: I see him naked for the first time. Wow. And just a bit scary too. But it’s OK, because I’m not taking off my knickers. Not tonight. It’s not the night I had envisaged but it’s a good night.

Night 2: I consent to taking my knickers off. We caress each other and have fun together. He doesn’t come.

Day 3: I’m kinda aroused, but he doesn’t come. Odd. I thought it’d be easy for him.

Night 3: A bit more intensive tonight, but still taking things slowly and gently.

Day 4: I think my hymen has broken. I muse on the idea that I am no longer a virgin by some definitions. And yet neither of us has come. Not what I had expected. What is wrong with me? Why is this so hard?

Night 4: I’m naked and he’s not getting hard. What is wrong with me? Am I unattractive?

Day 5: He is finally hard enough and I’m relaxed enough, but he doesn’t come. What is wrong with me?

Night 5: This is getting silly now. I feel alone. I talk to him about it and it helps.

Night 6: We caress each other. Variable arousal. He doesn’t come.

Night 7: He still doesn’t come.

Night 8: Finally! I am genuinely happy for him.

As for me, I always knew I’d be the difficult one. Can’t expect to orgasm immediately. No woman can. I knew I was lazy with my kegel exercises. It’s my fault really that I haven’t come yet.

Day 11: Honeymoon is over and we’re back at marriage prep. I learn there are couples out there who’ve taken a year to consummate their marriage. So why am I all upset about taking seven days? I don’t have issues. I must be being picky.

Week 3: By now it’s not too much of a problem for him any more. But it stings when I pee after sex.

Weeks 4-5: It keeps on stinging badly when I pee after sex. I search for causes on the internet. Not helpful.

I feel madly uncomfortable after sex. But I don’t understand why. I know sex is important. I know sex is important for him. But I also know it’s not entirely straightforward for him, so whenever he gets hard I just have to make myself available, otherwise it’ll never happen.

Months 2-6: It takes forever for me to get aroused. I count the days between sex. Then I feel really bad when it’s longer than seven days. I still feel uncomfortable.

He’s always the one who initiates. I say “I don’t mind”. But I don’t want it. Sometimes I say “I don’t know” – that means I really don’t want it. I don’t tell him I don’t want to have sex with him. That would be selfish. It would make me a failure as a wife.

If the marriage fails, it’s my fault.

I try squeezing my pelvic floor muscles during sex. OW! PAIN! BAD! Ow! That hurts! Not good! Do not want! Note to self: do NOT do that again!

I’m picking up my pill and I tell the woman there that I’m in pain after sex. She doesn’t know what to do. She talks to a colleague and comes back saying it’ll go away with more sex. I’m in tears.

He says he doesn’t like seeing me in pain. He says he wants me to enjoy sex. I wonder if that will ever be possible.

I get better at judging my body’s state of arousal so it doesn’t hurt (most times) (much) afterwards. I’m using lube, but I hate the stuff. He asks me what I want, but I don’t know what I want. I am indifferent to his touch.

Months 6-18: Friday evenings: Tired or meeting friends. Saturday mornings: Maybe there’s a chance, but it depends on how much we need to do that day. Saturday evening: Have supper before all desire drains away. Sunday morning: I need to be up to play hymns and all that jazz. Sunday evening: I’m stressing because we haven’t had sex all weekend. Forget arousal. During the week: Forget arousal.

We speak to a friend and he encourages us not to focus too much on coming, but on enjoying our time together. It helps. Marginally.

It’s not about what I want. It’s about what I can bear to give. Sometimes I get away with just offering cuddles. But it’s not the same as sex and we both know it. How long is this going to last?

I tell him what I mean by “I don’t mind” and “I don’t know”. And I tell him that I hardly ever want sex. I realise that I’m actually afraid of his penis and have been since Night 1. Realising this helps. Marginally.

When he’s physically affectionate, I feel nothing in response. I just let him touch me and wait for him to stop.

Month 17: I’m talking to HR about stress and say that my sex life is through the floor. I’m in tears. HR asks how my husband’s handling this; I say he’s being a saint. But there is this aching sadness inside me.

Month 20: I’m talking to someone about it. I try and explain that I have no good memory of sex. Every time I try and have sex it’s like I have to talk myself round that it won’t be a bad thing. I have nothing to look forward to in sex. I’ve learned not to be in pain, but it’s SO HARD to get aroused enough that I’m not in pain.

There are only two things that actively get me aroused: thinking about degrading myself and the thought of being tied up. Problem is, I don’t want to degrade myself and he doesn’t want to tie me up. He’s studied too much history to want to do that to me.

Month 22: I’m talking to my pastor/minister/vicar person about it. He says it’s important that the problem is sorted. He says there’s no shame in getting professional help.

Month 25: I’m picking up my pill again and I’m in tears. The woman there refers me to a sexual health clinic.

I get a letter in the post inviting me to make an assessment appointment for psychosexual therapy. It says that they can’t help couples where there is complete loss of arousal as this comes from relationship issues. We don’t have relationship issues. Letter goes in the bin. They can’t help me. I must be being whiney.

Month 27: He buys me some fantastic clothes to help me feel good about myself. They help. Marginally.

Month 28: I tell him just how bad I feel about not wanting to have sex with him. I tell him how I feel unfaithful. He tells me that I don’t need to feel like I have to save the marriage alone. He made a vow too. That helps. A lot.

Well, it helps me feel better about myself. Doesn’t help me get aroused.

Month 30: It’s pill time again. Tears again. This woman I speak to actually books us an assessment for psychosexual therapy.

Month 31: We have the assessment. She says the clinic can help. She says it’s a six-month waiting list. We can wait. We’ve waited this long.

She says it’s no bad thing to think of degrading oneself to get turned on. But I don’t want to. And I don’t see why degrading myself should be the ONLY way I can get turned on.

Am I asking too much when I want to be turned on by thinking about the one I love? Seriously?

Month 33: He buys me more fantastic clothes to help me feel good about myself. Positive effect is short-lived. I begin to feel bad about the money spent.

Month 34: He says he’s been doing some research and there are these things called “rope dresses”. He says in Japan, tying a rope around something can symbolise ownership. He says there’s a whole art form called “shibari”. It doesn’t have to be degrading, he says. He says he’s willing to give it a try if I am.

We start learning about rope. I begin to not dread sex.

Month 36: I’m getting better at understanding my body so that I don’t consent until I’m ready for him. I realise one day I’ve made a mistake: I’m not ready and he’s inside, but if he carries on he’s going to hurt me. I ask him to stop. He stops and withdraws gently. No hard feelings.

He wants me to tell him if he’s going to hurt me. He always has. I’m no longer afraid to be completely honest with him.

Month 38: I tell HR that we’ve reached the top of the waiting list and I’m going to need regular time off work to go to the sessions. They’re cool with this.

He tells his department head that we’ve reached the top of the waiting list and he’s going to need regular time off work to go to the sessions. Department head is cool with this. Line manager however is gutted she didn’t happen to be in when he asked. Not because he’s taking time off, but because she’ll never know the reason why he asked for it.

Month 39: Psychosexual therapy begins. Therapist is like: “So you’re no longer experiencing pain during or after sex; you already know that you love each other, even when you don’t want sex; you’re getting enjoyment out of this shibari stuff. Kinda makes me wonder what the problem is.”

It’s official. There is no problem. We are wasting therapist’s time. We’re bunking off work. We have massively unrealistic expectations and should just get over ourselves. After all, no therapist can PROMISE orgasms or satisfying sex.

I move department at work and need to tell my new line manager about the time off. There’s a moment when I just don’t know how to say it. But when he hears the words “psychosexual therapy” he nods and I don’t need to say anything more. He doesn’t think I’m making a fuss.

Month 40: We’re not having sex and I don’t have to feel guilty about it because it’s required as part of therapy.

There’s relief. Though I miss doing rope.

Following all the exercises our therapist gives us. Must show we’re serious and co-operative.

Buy helpful book, Becoming Orgasmic, recommended by the therapist. Massively unhelpful shop assistant waves it around and reads out its title loudly. Not impressed.

Therapist suggests I masturbate. I tell her I never have and I don’t want to start now. Besides, what difference would it make? Touch doesn’t turn me on.

Month 41: I switch shower products at the therapist’s suggestion. I can now come out of the shower and feel remotely comfortable about my body. Wasn’t the case before. I also get proper lessons about the human reproductive system. Majorly embarrassed at my previous level of knowledge (read: lack of knowledge).

Therapist is like: “So on Night 1, you were both virgins and neither of you had ever masturbated in your entire lives. I’d say having vaginal sex after seven days is pretty impressive.” Feel-good feeling quickly gets swamped by feeling that I am wasting the therapist’s time.

I begin to enjoy our physical time together. Though I don’t have orgasms. At least, I don’t think so. I’m not sure. He begins to lose the fear of hurting me unintentionally.

Month 42: Therapist says we’re making progress and can cut down sessions to once a fortnight. I confide my long-standing sexual fantasy with the therapist.

Then I come out of therapy and think about my sexual fantasy. I ask myself if there is a way I can think of it (and myself within it) that isn’t degrading. And I realise that there actually is a way. So I picture myself in my fantasy – or rather, within a particular story that resonates with my fantasy. And suddenly I’m wet. I picture myself in another story I love and OH MY GOODNESS I AM SO WET!

I talk and talk and talk with him about power and types of power and all these very sexual thoughts I’m having.

Now when he touches me, I welcome it.

I wake up the next day and I’m wet the whole time. Just as well I’m not playing hymns. I remember nothing of the sermon but cry buckets with a friend after the service. I don’t tell him why, just that it’s a good thing.

Next day, I commute to work and I’m wet. I try to work, but my goodness, every five seconds I get turned on. Are people going to notice me going to the toilet so often? My knickers are soaked all day long.

Next day: Wet all day. Can barely think all day. When is this going to end?

The whole week, even the slightest thing gets me turned on. I gradually cool down, which is actually a good thing.

Next session and therapist says we’re done. We book a follow up session in four months.

Now when he touches me I beg him not to stop.

Month 44: We’re a bit stressed, but go back on the ropes and find it’s a disappointment. We decide to try again when less stressed.

Month 45: Follow up therapy session. We talk over the previous month. I reckon last month was a blip but generally speaking we’re on the up. We book another follow up for three months’ time – we can always cancel if we don’t need it.

Month 46: Back on the ropes and enjoying it.

I’m reading about other people’s experiences of sex and realise I DEFINITELY have not had an orgasm yet. But hey, who cares? I’m having a great time even without them.

I’m relaxed enough now that I let him touch me where I’ve never let him touch me before: directly on my clitoris.

Month 47: He’s stimulating me and it gets proper intense. Oh my goodness, what is this? Don’t stop! I scream. Now THAT was an orgasm! Wow! OK, I need to recover now.

So does he. He wasn’t expecting me to scream and only kept going because I was giving continuous active consent.

Next day: second orgasm (a less dramatic experience for us both, but no less satisfying).

The next day: third orgasm.

And the next day: don’t need to keep count.

Month 49: Last therapy session. I tell therapist that looking back, there was definitely something wrong, but there isn’t now.

I now know I wasn’t a time waster. More relief.

Sex life gets better and easier. We can enjoy rope but we don’t need it to enjoy sex. I squeeze my pelvic floor muscles during sex. No pain this time.

Month 52: We’re talking about consent. We talk about the early days when I didn’t want sex and he got frustrated. We talk about the upset that put on me and the pressure he didn’t even realise was there for me to say yes. We’re realising there were times when I said yes, because I couldn’t allow myself to say no. He is deeply, deeply upset at the thought of violating my consent (his words), even if it was something he only did because I deliberately hid my true feelings from him. We both know better now. We share big hugs.

Month 56: I wake up in the early hours of the morning. I lie still so I won’t disturb my dearly beloved. I start to think about him caressing me. And then, almost before I know what’s happening, my body gives me a gorgeously gentle orgasm. It is the first orgasm I have ever had without being physically touched. Wow.

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About Christine:

For anyone curious to know a bit more about me, I would describe myself first and foremost as a Christian theological thinker. I live in the UK with my husband, and have a passion for shaping the church’s attitudes in areas around consent, sexuality and equality because… well, you can probably guess why from this post. I am unafraid to tackle awkward questions and I’m an unashamed critic of Fifty Shades.

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Footnote for anyone concerned about the non-consent described in this story:

I used to think in terms of male privilege and I didn’t know it. Yes, that terrifies me. No, no one had taught either of us about enthusiastic consent. Yes, I am working on changing this. I have blogged in more depth about how I now frame consent in a long term relationship and you can read about that on a fabulous blog run by Ashley Easter. Yes, she’s a Christian blogger. No, this post doesn’t talk about religion. Or marriage. Despite the title.

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Longer footnote for anyone concerned that my husband and I, as sex positive Christians, are at risk of going to hell and/or besmirching the name of the church:

I thought long and hard about sharing this story in this much detail.

A lot of what is here is already in the public domain. Back in 2011 (around month 26) I made a short video in which I disclosed publicly that we didn’t have sex in the first seven days of our marriage; the narrative of that video that was also published in 2013 on a multi-author Christian blog. In February 2016 (that is, two years after month 56) I blogged for them again about being on the “receiving end” of sex, and disclosed that my husband and I had psychosexual therapy. Shortly after, I blogged on my own site about our learning experiences of going through sex therapy, writing an open letter to a Christian evangelical couple who I knew were considering it.

I know that these posts have really helped people.

Now, I grant you, none of them were as explicit as this writing is. And although anyone who follows my blog knows that I’m not afraid to write about BDSM, this is the first time I’ve disclosed that my husband and I actually practice anything that remotely resembles BDSM.

Yet this is my story and I believe that sharing it has the potential to really help people. For some people, it might open up conversations on Christianity that wouldn’t happen otherwise. Yes, I have asked myself whether it’s right to disclose this much detail. No, I’m not 100% certain that I’ve got it all right. But then, I don’t think I can be certain because whatever I do, I won’t please everyone.

I decided to disclose about the shibari because if that hadn’t been within our story, then I’d never have started to engage with people in the BDSM scene. You see, around month 43, my husband asked whether we should starting trying to make connections with people on social media and engage in discussions about BDSM, given that we had benefited from the idea of shibari. It was just a question, but as soon as he asked it the Holy Spirit was persistently on his case, saying “Yes, this!” And that’s what led to my blog. Gosh, that’s what led to me being even capable of writing the stuff that’s on my blog. And it is bearing good fruit. So if you’re worried about me, judge me by my fruit. My times are in His hands.

BDSM Red Flags: What to Watch For in a New Kinky Relationship

A reader messaged me this week with this question: “What are some BDSM red flags to look out for when starting a new kinky relationship with a Dom or a sub?”

I had a lot of thoughts about this question and all the possible ways to answer it. On the surface, it’s simple. In many ways, BDSM red flags are exactly the same as those in any other kind of relationship. But there are also nuances specific to kinky relationships.

As I often do when I’m mulling over a topic, I took it to Mr C&K for his perspective. His response, I think, was utterly brilliant in its simplicity: “Don’t get into a relationship with a Dom or a sub. Get into a relationship with a person.”

What I love about this answer is that it cuts through all the possible responses I was thinking of giving to our lovely question-asker, and gets straight to the heart of the issue. It’s vital to get to know somebody as a real, three-dimensional human being before you seriously consider them as your Dominant or submissive.

Spend time – LOTS of time – talking, communicating, and seeing how they interact with you and the world. A good D/s relationship is a place of profound trust and vulnerability on both sides, and these things cannot be rushed. A real-life D/s relationship is nothing like an endless kinky fantasy or a porn movie. First and foremost, it is a relationship.

7 BDSM Red Flags to Look Out For

With all that said, I do still have some thoughts on specific red flags to watch out for in a kinky relationship. I’ve tried to keep these broad so that they’re applicable to Dominants, submissives, and switches alike, and relevant whether you’re meeting online or in person.

Your mileage may vary, of course, and I’m sure there are plenty I’ve missed. But I would view any of the following with some serious side-eye and a healthy level of skepticism.

Demanding too much, too soon

You wouldn’t give someone the keys to your house or ask them to marry you on a first date, would you? Just as you shouldn’t jump the proverbial gun on these vanilla relationship milestones, it’s also important to take your time in a BDSM relationship. Play together and have some kinky fun, if you both want to, but don’t even think about entering into any kind of ongoing dynamic for quite some time.

If a Dominant expects you to kneel and address them by an honorofic before they’ve earned your trust, run. If a submissive expects you to start trying to control every aspect of their life when you’ve barely got past coffee… you know what I’m going to say.

Referring to themselves as a “real” or “true” anything

There is no such thing as a True Dominant, a Real Submissive, or any other variation. Those of us who have been in the community for a long time call this One True Wayism, and it’s frowned upon for good reason. People who think their way is the only way tend to be snobbish, elitist and derisive of others at best and actively dangerous at worst.

Tthinking you know everything, refusing to learn, and refusing to be questioned is a recipe for disaster. It’s also one of the biggest red flags out there for kinky relationships.

Related to this is its equally problematic and insidious twin: “you’re a fake [Dom/sub/kinkster!]” Calling someone a fake is such a classic BDSM red flag that it’s pretty much a cliche at this point. There’s no such thing as a fake kinkster. There are good and bad players, safe and dangerous kinksters, and those with more or less knowledge and experience. But no-one is “real” or “fake.”

If you identify as a Dom, you’re a Dom. If you identify as a sub, you’re a sub. That’s literally all that’s required.

Using language like “if you were really [X] you’d [Y]”

“If you were really a sub, you’d give me all your passwords and your bank account login!” “If you were really a Dom, you’d take care of everything for me so I didn’t have to take any responsibility for my choices!”

This is the BDSM red flag equivalent of that old manipulative classic: “If you really loved me, you’d…”

If someone questions your identity or tries to use it against you to get their way, run. See above: there’s no such thing as a “Real” or “True” anything. You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone and you certainly don’t have to do things you don’t want to do for your identity to be valid.

Claiming to have no or very few limits

Everyone has limits (that is, things they absolutely won’t do under any circumstances.) Absolutely everyone. Someone who claims not to have any limits (or to have “very few” limits) is, at best, woefully ill-informed about all the things BDSM can encompass.

And by the way: limits aren’t just for submissives! Dominants also can and should have limits.

I’ll say it again: literally everyone has limits. They can, and probably will, change over time. You don’t need to think up absolutely every single one right now. But you should start learning about what yours might be and learning how to communicate them.

Not understanding their own experience and skill level

Anyone can pick up a BDSM starter kit and call themselves a Dominant without having ever used that flogger on anyone, just like anyone can watch a thousand hours of spanking porn and call themselves a submissive without having ever actually played. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with being inexperienced and curious, with being at the beginning of your kink journey, or with not knowing much.

What is wrong, though, is to significantly overestimate or misrepresent your experience and skill level. And if you find out someone has done this, it’s a pretty huge red flag. Trying to do certain BDSM activities without proper knowledge and tuition is irresponsible at worst, incredibly dangerous – both physically and psychologically – at best.

Responsible kinksters know their own limitations and put the safety, consent, and wellbeing of their partners above any self-aggrandising notion about being infallible.

Lying, including lies of omission

The absolute, foundational basis for any healthy relationship – kinky or vanilla, monogamous or polyamorous – is trust. Without trust, there is nothing. Lying to you is, therefore, probably the biggest, reddest, and flaggiest big BDSM red flag of all.

This includes those big barefaced lies, of course, but it also includes lies of omission. If you find a Dom who seems great but they “forgot” to tell you they’ve got seven other submissives at home… you have not found a good Dom or indeed a good human.

The person who lies to you in the beginning will lie to you all the way along. Whatever your role, you’re a human being first and you deserve to be told the truth about things that impact you.

The ultimate BDSM red flag: breaking boundaries, including small ones

Abusive or dangerous people don’t typically start by trampling boundaries in overt and glaring ways. If they did this on the first date, they’ll never get as far as a second date. Instead, people who would cause you harm will often “test the waters” with a new victim to see how much they can get away with.

Perhaps they persist in using language towards you that you don’t like, touching you in a way you’re not comfortable with, or putting you down in big or small ways, you are not being too sensitive. They are testing you, and they will push bigger and bigger boundaries if you continue a relationship with them. Get out now.

If you recognise any of these BDSM red flags in your relationship or with a new interest, help is out there! If you think you’re in danger, get yourself to a place of safety and ask for help as soon as you can.

Online Dating Tips for Men Into Women: 10 Dating App Mistakes You’re Probably Making and How to Fix Them

We all know by now that the number one online dating mistake is to use our genitals as our profile picture, right? (We do, right?) But what other less-obvious-but-equally-offputting things are you doing or saying on dating apps that are causing potential matches to swipe right? I don’t really date men any more, but I learned enough from my years of doing so to put together this list of online dating tips for men based on dating app mistakes you really need to stop making.

Online Dating Tips for Men Into Women: 10 Mistakes to Avoid

Whether you’re using Tinder, Feeld, OKCupid, Fetlife, or another dating site or app entirely, avoid these common mistakes at all costs.

“I hate writing about myself” or “ask me”

This is the most boring cop-out of an “About Me” section possible. You might as well have written “there is nothing interesting about me whatsoever.”

You only have a small amount of space on your dating profile, and this is a waste of it. Instead, share a few carefully chosen tidbits about you that will intrigue a potential match and make them want to know more.

“Ask me anything you want to know” and its variations sidestep the process of putting any actual effort in. It indicates an assumption that your prospective will be so blown away that they’ll put all the work in for you. Spoiler: they won’t.

“I’m just a normal guy”

What does this mean? There are 8 billion people on this planet and approximately half of them are men. What is a “normal” guy?

Rather than lumping yourself into some nebulous, gendered category, think about what makes you YOU.

Too much negativity

I’m not a “positive vibes only” person and I certainly don’t embrace toxic positivity. However, your online dating profile is not the place for lengthy rants about the last person who broke your heart, how much you hate your job, or how much online dating sucks.

By the way: this also applies to talking about the kind of partner you want. Talk about the positive attributes you’re looking to find, not the negative ones you want to avoid.

“I’m really good at eating pussy”

Want to know a secret? No man who bragged about his cunnilingus skills on his dating profile has ever given me an orgasm. My theory is that this is because they were so confident in their knowledge of “what women like” that they forgot to pay attention to what I like.

Every vulva is different and there is no such thing as being universally “good at eating pussy.” That thing that had your first girlfriend moaning in orgasmic bliss that one time in 2008 is not necessarily going to do anything for the rest of the women you will have sex with throughout your lifetime.

“I’m looking for a real woman”

Again, what does this mean? What makes a woman “real” and, by extension, what makes one “fake?”

This reeks of some really problematic and outdated assumptions about gender. There are endless ways to be a woman (or to be any gender.) All women are real women. If there are specific traits you’re looking for in a partner, be specific about it.

Disregarding a person’s stated preferences

Unfortunately, one of the most commonly cited but really bad online dating tips for men is “shoot your shot regardless!”

Please don’t.

If she says she’s a lesbian, you are not the exception. When her stated upper age limit is 30 and you’re 50, move along. If she says she wants someone local and you’re in another country, don’t waste your time or hers. When she says she only dates older men and you’re only a couple years out of high school… you know what I’m going to say, don’t you? Leave her alone.

There is a certain degree of common sense at play here. If her stated upper age limit is 45 and you’re 46 but clearly a great match with tonnes in common, a respectful first message is probably fine as long as you’re willing to accept a no gracefully. And a lack of response is a no, by the way.

Text-speak

Are you twelve? No. There’s no excuse for this and yet it’s still a weirdly common dating app mistake.

Type in full words that form actual sentences. Use punctuation. Flawless spelling and grammatical perfection is not necessary, but making an effort is. Srsly m8. K?

“We have nothing in common but opposites attract!”

No, that’s not how this actually works. Most people want to date someone they have at least some things in common with. If you seem like you’d hate each other in real life, she’s probably not the love of your life. Move along.

Asking to meet immediately

I understand the desire to see if there’s real-life chemistry before you invest too much energy in someone online. But for women, meeting a man from the internet can be a risky endeavour. At best, we’re risking an awkward coffee date. At worst, we might find ourselves in real danger. That’s why one of my number one online dating tip for men is simply: be patient.

Get to know a prospective match at least a little bit first. Exchange a few messages. Don’t say “want to meet for a drink?” in the first message. Don’t ask to swap numbers or personal info, either.

Mentioning sex in the first conversation

Nothing tells me “this person doesn’t care about me as a human being” more than immediate sex talk. I don’t want to know about your fetishes, sext, send or receive nudes, or hook up before I’ve learned what you do for work or whether you’re a dog or cat person.

This is probably my single most important online dating tip for men: approach women as human beings. Because we are! A good rule of thumb is that if you wouldn’t say it to a stranger at a party, then don’t say it to a new contact on a dating app.

If you enjoy my writing or found these online dating tips for men into women useful, please buy me a coffee!

[Toy Review] Lovehoney Desire Luxury Clitoral Vibrator

I bought my first sex toy (a tiny bullet vibe) from Lovehoney UK over a decade ago, and I still go there for the majority of my sexy needs. This week, I received a new Lovehoney vibrator to test and review: the Lovehoney Desire Luxury Clitoral Vibrator.

Other products in this range include a the Desire bullet vibrator, and the Desire knicker vibrator.

The back of the Lovehoney Desire Clitoral Vibrator in purple

Lovehoney Desire Clitoral Vibrator: About the Product

The Lovehoney Desire Luxury Clitoral Vibrator is a simple little oval-shaped clitoral vibe. It’s USB rechargeable, waterproof, and has a simple three-button interface. It measures around 3″ in length and is inflexible but made of soft silicone.

This toy also comes in an attractive and discreet case. It is similar in shape to the VēDO Izzy, though without the nub on the end.

The front and buttons of the Lovehoney Desire Clitoral Vibrator in purple

The end curves to a soft point, which is ideal for those who like their clitoral stimulation a little more direct and focused. You can also use the rounder end for a more generalised sensation, if you prefer.

In Use

The Lovehoney Desire Luxury Clitoral Vibrator is small and light, fitting well in my hand. The buttons are easy to press and the controls are so self-explanatory that I haven’t even opened the instruction booklet. I appreciate the dual-directional controls, as this makes it easy to move up and down between the speeds and settings.

This toy has eight patterns in total. It can be positioned against your clitoris in different ways depending on where you like your vibrations focussed. I actually found it worked best when I held it to my clit side-on, but all bodies are different.

The Desire Clitoral Vibrator’s main flaw is its power, or lack thereof. The motor is pretty mediocre. Not exactly buzzy, but definitely not really strong enough for me. I can get off with it, but I usually can’t be bothered and end up reaching for a more powerful toy instead.

Lovehoney Desire Luxury Clitoral Vibrator: Verdict

It’s… fine?

The Lovehoney Desire Clitoral Vibrator is a very middle of the road vibe. Mid price, mid power. I don’t love it or hate it. If you’re looking for a basic and reliable clitoral vibrator and don’t need high intensity, it’s a good choice.

This vibrator retails at £69.99 UK/$89.99 US.

This post contains affiliate links. All opinions are my own.

[Book Review] The Smart Girl’s Guide to Polyamory by Dedeker Winston

I’m a long-time listener of the Multiamory Podcast. So I was excited when host Dedeker Winston announced she was writing a book on polyamory. Dedeker and her co-hosts are funny, wise, insightful and down to Earth on the podcast. As a result, I had high hopes for The Smart Girl’s Guide to Polyamory: Everything You Need to Know About Open Relationships, Non-Monogamy and Alternative Love.

The Smart Girl’s Guide to Polyamory by Dedeker Winston is fresh take on the polyamory advice book genre, with women and female experiences front and centre.

Author Dedeker Winston, a smiling white woman with long straight brown hair
Dedeker Winston, image provided by the author

The Smart Girl’s Guide to Polyamory by Dedeker Winston: About the Book

The book is grouped into chapters, which are clustered into four sections. There’s Polyamory 101, Pre Reqs, Mastering Non-Monogamy, and Out of the Classroom, Into the World. I read it cover to cover, but you could just as easily dip in and out, picking and choosing the sections that feel most relevant to you.

Polyamory 101

This section covers what polyamory is (and what it isn’t,) some of the different forms that ethical non monogamy can take, and an absolutely fascinating chapter on the socio-cultural and anthropological history of non-monogamy. Dedeker also talks us through some of the common objections to polyamory, from family and friends or from society at large, and possible ways to counter them.

Pre-Reqs

This section deals with self-knowledge, really interrogating who you are, what you want and what makes you tick, as well as the skills required to live a happy and healthy non-monogamous life (it goes beyond just “communicate,” y’all!)

Mastering Non-Monogamy

This is where the real meat of this book is. There’s the expected chapter on jealousy, a whole chapter on sex and the various issues surrounding it, advice on crafting positive and healthy relationship agreements, and more.

Out of the Classroom, Into the World

Finally, this section attemtps to take the theories discussed in previous chapters and apply them in real-world situations. Dedeker discusses polyamorous dating, finding community, and coming out of (or choosing to stay in!) the closet. She also explores how polyamory can intersect with a range of marginalised identities and liberation movements.

Dedeker Winston Centres Women and Writes With Unflinching Honesty

This book is not easy reading at times. Dedeker approaches difficult topics with a light touch and a healthy dose of humour, but there are parts that are unavoidably difficult reading. Though she doesn’t actually use the word, she candidly describes behaviour by a former partner that can only be labelled as abusive.

It’s not all sunshine and light. Dedeker gives us the bad, scary, and unshiny parts of polyamory as well as the love and joy. She challenges us repeatedly to be brave. She invites us to be unfalteringly honest with ourselves and our loved ones, and to do the hard work required to be stronger, better, more compassionate versions of ourselves.

What sets this book apart from the others I’ve read is that women are centred throughout. Dedeker shares her experience on the unique struggles of a polyamorous, queer, sex-positive woman and tackles those challenges head on. She encourages other women to battle outdated gender stereotypes, sex-negativity, slut shaming, rape culture, and the myriad other issues that disproportionately affect women and those read as women in trying to live a non-monogamous life.

But despite this female focus, the book is consistently inclusive. It makes no assumptions about the age, sexuality, gender identity or relationship style of the reader. For this reason, I really think anyone interested in polyamory or consensual non-monogamy can find value in it.

The Smart Girl’s Guide to Polyamory by Dedeker Winston: Final Thoughts

Dedeker’s tone is compassionate and non-judgemental throughout The Smart Girl’s Guide to Polyamory. She shares her experiences and wisdom about what tends to work well and what doesn’t. However, she also seems to intuitively understand that everyone’s experience is different and that different relationship styles will work for each person, couple, or polycule.

The guiding principles are self knowledge, strong communication, compassion, honesty, good boundaries, and integrity. And these are applicable in making any style of relationship a success.

Buy The Smart Girl’s Guide to Polyamory by Dedeker Winston from your local bookstore.

Book cover image and author headshot courtesy of the author and reproduced with permission.

How to Find and Work With a Sex Positive Therapist

When my nesting partner, Mr C&K, and I moved in together, we decided to get joint therapy to help ease the transition and navigate some past traumas that were impacting our relationship. However, as kinky, polyamorous folks in a mixed-orientation and age-gap relationship, it was important to us to find a sex positive therapist who wouldn’t pathologise us.

We got incredibly lucky. The first person we found was, and is, absolutely amazing. She listens to us, believes our experiences, doesn’t pathologise our identities or practices, and educates herself on the issues that impact us.

Most people, however, are not so lucky. It can take a long time to find a good sex positive therapist. Folks with marginalised identities such as queer folks, trans and non-binary folks, people of colour, and disabled or neurodivergent people may struggle to find good sex-positive therapy even more.

These are five strategies I found helpful. Maybe they’ll help you, too!

Use an Appropriate Directory to Find a Sex Positive Therapist

There are directories of kink-aware and sex-positive therapists and other professionals, where you can vet your prospective therapist for specific knowledge and competencies.

Try the National Coalition for Sexual Freedom (multiple countries, somewhat US centric,) the Open List (US only) or Pink Therapy (mainly UK), or do a Google search for sex-positive therapists in your area.

Ensure Your Therapist is Sex Positive By Putting Everything on the Table Upfront

When I say “upfront,” I mean “ideally before the first appointment.” You’ll probably talk to a potential therapist on the phone or by email, and this is a great time to tell them anything you want them to know before setting up your first appointment.

This can be a difficult and vulnerable conversation to have with a stranger. But if you want to ensure that you’ll be getting informed, aware, sex-positive therapy, it’s so worth it. By the time you get into their office (or Zoom room), you’ll feel confident that they understand and respect you for who you are.

Be Matter-of-Fact

Your identites aren’t the problem, so don’t apologise for them. A sex positive therapist will take on board that you’re queer, non-monogamous, kinky, or however you identify and won’t pathologise you for these things.

If your therapist acts as though your sexuality or sexual identities are problematic, or tries to convince you they need to change, fire them immediately and find someone else.

Not sure how to put it? A great sentence is something like: “Just so you know, for context, I’m queer, polyamorous, and I practice BDSM. Do you know what those things are? What that means to me is…”

Expect Them to Educate Themselves

If you manage to find a sex-positive therapist with lived experience of an identity like yours, amazing. But if they’re not already an expert, educating themselves is their job.

Of course, you will need to talk about what words like “polyamorous” or “kinky” or “sex positive” mean to you. But at the end of the day, you’re paying them to help you. That help includes educating themselves. If they’re taking up a lot of your session asking you basic or 101 questions, suggest some resources and move the conversation on. If they make no effort to learn, they’re a bad therapist.

Don’t Be Afraid to Steer the Conversation

Therapy is your time, so don’t be afraid to steer the conversation in the direction you want it to go. “I’d really like to focus on…” is a useful phrase. Again, if your therapist insists that an aspect of your sexuality is a problem when it isn’t problematic for you, think about moving on.

A good sex positive therapist will never use any expression resembling “you wouldn’t have this problem if you were [monogamous/vanilla/etc.]”

Remember You Deserve Top Quality Care

Therapy is expensive, unless you live in a country with a functioning socialised mental healthcare system (lucky you if so.)

You deserve the best care from your therapist. Good sex positive therapy is a relationship built on trust, and you can end the therapist/client relationship any time if things aren’t working out. Please don’t settle for someone who doesn’t treat you – all facets of you – with the respect you deserve.

If this piece helped you, please consider buying me a virtual coffee to say thanks!

New to BDSM? How to Get Started

It’s New Years Eve, the time of new beginnings and new adventures. This is the very first post on this blog. So how better to get started than with some handy hints and tricks on… getting started? If you’re new to BDSM, read on to learn everything you need to know about dipping your toes in safely in this BDSM beginners’ guide.

First Step For Newcomers to BDSM: Get a Fetlife Account

If you have not yet stumbled across it, Fetlife is absolutely the place to be for all things kinky on the internet. It’s not “technically” a dating site, though people do use it that way (for better or worse). Instead, it’s a social networking site for kinksters. The “Facebook of Kink,” if you like.

Before you do anything else – before you go and buy a BDSM starter kit, before you jump on a kinky dating app – get yourself a Fetlife account.

It’s free to join Fetlife and you can give as much or as little information as you like. Paid accounts are available but the main benefit to a paid account is getting access to videos. All the most useful features are free and should be more than sufficient when you’re new to BDSM.

  1. Please don’t use your real name or give out any details more personal than which city you live in. (You can even lie about that if you’re really cautious, though I don’t recommend it because finding local people and events is a big part of the purpose of using Fetlife.)
  2. Put up a profile picture. It doesn’t have to be a face pic, but should be something that speaks to you or represents you (don’t steal other people’s work, though – that’s not cool). Your genitals are NOT a good profile picture, however proud of them you are.
  3. Join some groups related to your interests. Read lots. Listen. Learn. Don’t believe everything you read – the only One True Rule of Kink is that there are no True Rules of Kink (beyond “it is only for informed consenting adults,” of course).
  4. Reach out by message to some people local to you, particularly if they run events or seem very active and respected in the community. Remember: the goal is to make friends and find community at this stage, not to hook up.

Okay, You’ve Got a Fetlife Account. Good. Now Read, Read, Read!

Read posts on Fetlife. Find as many articles, essays and blogs as you can find (on kink in general or on your particular areas of interest.) Read books, watch YouTube videos, listen to podcasts – however you prefer to get your information.

This isn’t a “one shot and done” homework assignment, by the way. You might be new to BDSM now, but I hope you will keep reading, listening and learning for as long as you’re involved in the lifestyle.

Being New to BDSM If You’ve Already Got a Partner or Partners

If you’re single, you can skip this section of the guide as this is written for BDSM beginners already in one or more relationships.

Firstly, if you haven’t already, you NEED to talk to your partner(s) about your interests.

I know how tempting it is, if these desires have been burning inside of you for months or years, to go out and explore them on the sly. We have a word for this, however, and that word is cheating. Most folks in the BDSM community take a dim view of people lying to and cheating on their partners, because this goes against the central ethos of informed consent.

It doesn’t need to be a big sit-down, drama-filled conversation. How about just, “hey, honey? I was thinking it would be really hot if you could be a little dominant in bed sometimes/if you let me spank you/if we explored tying each other up/-insert your interest here.- How do you feel about that?

Hopefully, if your partner is communicative and sex-positive, they’ll be happy to have a conversation about it. That doesn’t mean the answer will be “yes,” necessarily, but you’ll have opened up a dialogue and that’s a huge step.

If they seem curious and excited to know more, talk to them about some of your fantasies and encourage them to have input with things they fantasise about. Explore this through sexting/cyber-sexing if it’s too scary or embarrassing to do it face-to-face at first. Read some erotica or watch some porn together that ticks your kinky boxes. Show them Fetlife, blogs, books and any other material you’ve found helpful. Go to a munch, talk or workshop together.

Explore a few light things first – always with a safeword, of course – and see how you go. Moving slowly, with lots of check-ins, negotiation, love and care is the way to have some really positive kinky experiences. Everything you want to try will still be there weeks, months or years down the line. You don’t have to do everything when you’re brand new to BDSM!

Get out into the community and make friends and build a kinky support network. More on that coming up shortly…

What If They Say No?

If your partner isn’t open to exploring things with you, don’t push. Beginners are often so keen to explore that they end up accidentally or intentionally pressuring their partners.

Give your partner time and space to process, ask open-ended questions, and express yourself honestly. If they’re not interested, is there any other way you can get your needs met? Perhaps with other partners, if you’re non-monogamous, or through opening up your relationship in some limited way if you’ve been monogamous until now? Perhaps with a professional?

If your partner is insistent there is no way your kinky needs can be met while in this relationship, I’m afraid you may have a very difficult decision to make – one which no-one else can make for you.

BDSM Beginners’ Guide If You’re New and Single

Those who already have a partner or partners can skip this section of the guide as it’s written for single BDSM beginners.

If you’re single, it can be really tempting, when you discover this kinky thing, to dive right into trying to find a Dom or sub to explore it all with. However, if you do that, you’re missing out some really important steps.

Hopefully you’ve started off your explorations by joining Fetlife and doing plenty of reading and learning. Perhaps you’ve even reached out to some local people. If not, go and do those things now.

Remember: your goal right now is to make friends and build a community. Partners and opportunities to play will follow. A bit of patience right now will set you up well in the long run, I promise.

Go to a munch, class, talk or workshop (more on this coming up in a minute!) Ask a trusted friend to go along with you if you’re scared.

Get Off the Internet: Getting Out There In Real Life

Yep. After extolling the virtues of Fetlife and all the great material you can find on the internet, the next step of this BDSM beginners’ guide is me telling you to get off the web and out into the world.

Find an event near you – a munch is ideal. A munch is an event in a vanilla location like a pub where kinksters meet up to socialise, hang out and make friends. Most major cities have at least one, and many small towns have them too. Search Fetlife with the name of your city or town to find out what’s going on. If you’re nervous, message the organiser – their Fet name should be listed – and ask if they’d mind introducing you to a few folks. Munch organisers typically do what they do because they love the community and want to give back to it, and most will be delighted to help you find your feet.

Other good events to go to are talks, workshops and classes on your area of interest, or even a kinky conference. These are often a greater time and financial investment than a simple munch, though, so you might want to wait a while before making this leap.

Munch Etiquette 101

Going to your first event when you’re a BDSM beginner is scary. The golden rules, though, are simple. Follow these and you’ll be fine.

  1. Dress and act appropriately. Basically, if it’s okay for a generic pub it’s okay at a munch. Leave the whips and the leather corsets at home. A t-shirt and jeans will be fine in most places, as will a nice shirt and slacks, a cute dress or skirt, or whatever you’d usually wear to meet friends for a drink/ Don’t try to play at a munch unless it’s specifically advertised as one where that’s okay. If in doubt, most events will have a dress code and possibly a code of conduct available online, or you can ask the organiser.
  2. Don’t be a creep. Don’t latch on to that one cute young just-barely-turned-18 girl. Don’t only talk to people of the age, gender and body type you fancy. Don’t ask people to play immediately or ask overly intrusive questions. People will notice and I promise, it’ll piss them off.
  3. Be yourself! Talk about your hobbies, your work, your family, how you came to kink… take your cues from others and just make friends the way you would in any other setting. If you’re shy, a good conversation starter is “I’m new to BDSM and this munch, have you been in the community for long?”
  4. Don’t drink too much or take any drugs.
  5. Don’t touch anyone without permission. Kinksters are often a touchy and huggy bunch, but remember there may be relational contexts you’re not familiar with. Always ask before hugging or otherwise touching anyone.
  6. Don’t be a dick. This covers so many bases. Be friendly, open and welcoming to everyone and don’t be afraid to admit you’re new, nervous and not sure what the protocol is.

Most of all, remember to have fun. If you can, gather the Fetlife names of people you talk to and ask their permission to friend them. (You can always follow up with a PM – “Hey, we met at the ABC Munch. I really enjoyed our conversation about XYZ. Would you like to be friends on here?”

Et voila! You’ve got the beginnings of a kinky community and circle of friends. Now – rinse and repeat. You’ll soon learn who your people are, who you really click with and who you don’t much care for. You don’t need to like everyone but you do need to be polite and civil to everyone (unless, of course, something serious like a consent violation occurs, but that’s beyond the scope of this particular post.)

And there you have it – you’ve made your first steps into Kinkland!

Doesn’t it feel great? I hope this BDSM beginners’ guide was helpful. Now go forth and be kinky, my friends.

Happy New Year.