Five Filthy Post-Covid Fantasies

This post was shamelessly inspired by Exhibit A’s 24 Hours posts.

Even though the pandemic isn’t over, many of us are starting to enjoy the perks of vaxxed life. That includes the ability to date, hook up, go to sexy events, and more. I’m currently taking a break from dating new people (for the reasons explained here) but that doesn’t mean I’m not fully embracing some recurring filthy fantasies. Here are five thoughts and fantasies that are occupying my sex brain at the moment.

The culmination of long-held sexual tension

How long have we been lusting after each other from afar at this point? Years? Sexual tension is delicious, but I fantasise about the moment we finally get to rip each other’s clothes off. A frantic fuck in a hotel room, the look on his face when he finally sees me naked for the first time in the flesh, the way my breath will catch when he pushes me against the wall and kisses me.

A kiss with a stranger

I don’t know their name, and I don’t want to. I want us to connect through looks and body-language, pressing close to each other on the dance-floor where it’s so loud we couldn’t really talk even if we wanted to. Our lips will meet in the dark and I’ll press just close enough to feel their cock through their jeans, to feel how much they want me. It won’t go any further, and it doesn’t need to. Just knowing they’ll be thinking about me when they get themself off later tonight is enough.

A spanking party

Spanking was my gateway drug, the first fetish I explored in my first sexual relationship, long before I had any real concept of what BDSM was or that it was a thing that millions of people are into. Though I’ve been to plenty of general BDSM events, I’ve never been to a specific spanking-themed party and I would love to. In this fantasy, I usually end up co-bottoming to a group of lovely, lightly sadistic Tops who want to be just the right level of horrible to me.

A strip club

I’ve wanted to go to a strip club for years (I actually tried to organise an outing to one a couple years ago for my birthday, but the one we were intending to go to closed down in the interim). I’ve received lap-dances a couple times in my life, in the context of private events, and both times the experience was incredibly hot. I’d love to experience it in the full strip club setting.

A swing resort

It’s long been a fantasy and ambition of mine to go to a swinging and nudist resort, and specifically to make it to the “Swingset Takes Desire” takeover in Cancun. This feels like a pipe-dream much of the time, because escaping to Mexico requires a high degree of logistical wrangling and is hella expensive, but someday we’ll make it happen.

I want to get naked in the sun, to run around in a space with others who understand my particular form of non-monogamous weirdness, flirt and dance and drink and fuck and just for a week, escape from the world into paradise.

What post-Covid fantasies are you harbouring, friends?

This post was written as part of Smutathon 2021! You can check out all our work and learn more about the challenge on the Smutathon website. Please consider donating to this year’s charities, Gendered Intelligence and Trans Lifeline.

The Last Time

I know tonight is goodbye. I didn’t let myself think about it as I drove over here this morning, or I knew I would crumble and compromise on my needs just to keep the relationship afloat for a little longer. We have given it a damn good go, me and him, but we have come to the end of the road. This road we have been walking together has forked, and we have to go in different directions.

I didn’t plan to end up in bed with him after all the hours of talking. After the conclusion that there really is no way forward. At best, I expected a bittersweet hug and a tearful farewell. At worst, I envisioned slamming doors, screamed grievances, scorched earth. There’s none of any of that. Just the wistful sadness that comes with an inevitability you’ve both been putting off for far too long.

The disentangling will begin in earnest tomorrow. Tonight, though, we will say goodbye in the only way we know how. People talk a lot about first time sex. First time ever, first time with a new person. First time with a person of a particular gender, or trying a particular act. We don’t talk anywhere near as much about last times. But that’s what this is.

I don’t want him to be gentle with me. This isn’t a tearful what-could-have-been, but a last hurrah. We both understand the urgency without needing to say it. He reaches for me, and I for him, and we devour each other as though we are each trying to imprint ourselves forever on the other’s memory. His three-days-unshaven face is scratchy against my cheek when we kiss, and his fingernails claw at my skin as he pulls my jeans and then my panties off.

He wraps his arms around my legs and pulls me to him, burying his face in my vulva and inhaling the scent of me. His tongue finds my clit, circling and flicking at it in exactly the way that makes my toes curl and my eyes roll back in my head. There’s nothing like sex with someone who has known you, your body, and all its quirks for years.

He slides a finger, and then two fingers, inside me, curling them to push against my G-spot. I hear myself make a sound somewhere between a whimper and a growl.

I reach for him. “Fuck me,” I plead. “Just fuck me.” I need to feel him inside me. One more time. He reaches for a condom from the nightstand and hands it to me. I tear it open and unroll it over his hard cock the same way I’ve done thousands of times before. Then his hands are on mine, pinning me beneath him, and his cock is sliding into my cunt. I squeeze my muscles around him, relishing his moans and the way his eyes flash with desire. We hold each other’s gaze and his hand slips into mine.

“Rub your clit,” he commands, bending to kiss me. My hand slips down between our bodies and a gasp escapes my lips as my fingers find the right spot. For a short, blissful time – maybe a minute, maybe five, I don’t know – there is nothing but sensation, nothing but him and me and this moment.

The memories unspool like a roll of film. The first time he went down on me. That time we decided to try swinging, but quickly realised it wasn’t really our scene. The mutual discovery of how much we both loved it when he spanked me. Our experimentations with pegging and double penetration and fisting. All the years of experiences and experiments, of love and lust and laughter, all come down to this. This last time.

In the moment before I orgasm, I remember the way he cupped my face in his hands the first time he kissed me. My climax tips him over the edge, too, and I feel his heartbeat pulsing through his cock as he comes inside me. Neither of us says anything. What use are more words now?

I let myself cuddle with him just long enough for our hearts to steady, then extricate myself from his arms and his bed and his life.

I do not let the tears fall until I am driving down the motorway at 70 miles per hour, the breakup playlist I preemptively made blasting at full volume.

This strange little piece of smutty-ish fiction was written as part of Smutathon 2021! You can check out all our work and learn more about the challenge on the Smutathon website. Please consider donating to this year’s charities, Gendered Intelligence and Trans Lifeline.

Empty Spaces

Those of you who follow me on Twitter will know that I recently ended my relationship with the person I referred to as The Artist. As with the ending of any long-term relationship, the reasons were complex and I won’t be going into them here. Please respect my/our privacy and don’t ask me to spill details, because I won’t. Please don’t make assumptions or demonise them, even under the guise of being supportive.

When you end a relationship, especially a long-term relationship, it inevitably leaves empty spaces behind. People think that us polyamorous folks can just brush off a breakup. “You have other partners, right? So what’s the big deal?” they ask. To that, I want to say this: if you lose a dear friend, do you just shrug it off because you still have other friends? Of course you don’t.

Yes, I’m in the fortunate position of not being alone. Yes, Mr CK has been an absolute fucking rockstar in all this, supporting me through making an incredibly difficult decision and caring for me through my heartbreak. But you know what? I broke up with someone I loved. It still hurt like absolute fuck.

When you love an artist, you inevitably accumulate a collection of their work over the years. The choker-definitely-not-a-collar they made for me is still hanging on the back of my office door as I write this, wondering what the hell to do with it now. There are empty picture hooks on my wall where the paintings they did for me used to hang. I took them down and packed them away because looking at them was a visceral reminder of the loss and grief in the immediate aftermath. Memories shoved into a closed drawer, maybe to be revisited someday when the pain is less immediate. Empty spaces, a fitting metaphor for the total obliteration of everything we had.

After I finished taking the paintings down, I automatically picked up my phone and scrolled through messages, my fingers tingling with unsaid words. That little green bubble by their name showing they’re online, and the do-it-don’t-do-it battle not to send the message. I still love you. I’m sorry. I wish I’d had any other choice. Typing and untyping, writing and deleting, imagining them seeing the little dot-dot-dot next to my name, all the things we both said and didn’t say and probably should have said and definitely shouldn’t.

I have had a tendency, in the past, to jump from one serious relationship directly into another. Though this hasn’t always gone badly (Mr CK and I hooked up very soon after I left my abuser, after all,), I don’t think it is a healthy pattern overall. The result is that I end up basing my worth and my sense of self on my romantic relationships.

That’s why, in the wake of this most recent breakup, I decided to take a long break from dating new people. I don’t know yet quite how long this break will last or what it will look like. At the moment, I’m tentatively considering getting back on the dating apps after the new year. But right now, even thinking about it is exhausting. The idea of sitting across the table from a stranger and trying to figure out if there is any chance of us fitting together, the idea of having to disclose that I’m a survivor and have a history of mental illness and oh by the way I have a sex blog, fills me with dread.

So I’m hitting the pause button.

As a polyamorous ethical slut, there’s sometimes an internalised sense that I should always be dating new people or at least open to dating new people. Isn’t closing myself off to new connections just a holdover from monogamous culture? Well, no.

I need to get to know these empty spaces inside me that I have filled or attempted to fill with one relationship after another after another since I was fourteen.

I’m still a polyamorous person. Just having the one serious partner (as well as a couple of casual or not-sure-yet-it’s-early-days connections) doesn’t negate that part of my identity. Just like being bi isn’t dependent on the gender of my partners, being polyam isn’t dependent on the number of them there are.

I’m just doing things differently this time. Instead of trying to fill the empty spaces with another new relationship that is probably not a great fit in the long run, I’m filling them with other things that nourish me. With hobbies and friends, with self-work and self-compassion, with therapy and writing and fitness and literally anything else.

I’m lucky to be able to do this from the position of having a secure, stable nesting relationship as a base, and I am immeasurably grateful to Mr CK for providing that base. But the ending of any relationship still leaves empty spaces behind, and I am both excited and terrified to explore those spaces and see what I want to fill them with next.

I’ll think about dating again when doing so fills me with excitement.

This post was written as part of Smutathon 2021! You can check out all our work and learn more about the challenge on the Smutathon website. Please consider donating to this year’s charities, Gendered Intelligence and Trans Lifeline.

[Toy Review] We-Vibe x Lovehoney Remote Control Couple’s Vibrator

[Update: this toy has been discontinued.]

A co-produced toy by one of my favourite manufacturers and one of my favourite retailers? Sign me up! The We-Vibe x Lovehoney Remote Control Couple’s Vibrator (woof, that’s a mouthful) recently landed on my doorstep to review as part of my Sex Ed September series.

I’m writing this post on Saturday 26 September 2020, which is Smutathon 2020 day! A group of sex writers around the world are writing for 12 hours to raise money for Endometriosis UK, a fantastic cause that’s very close to our hearts. To that end, if you purchase through my affiliate links today (not just this toy – any product) I’ll donate any commissions dated today to the charity.

And of course, we’d love you to donate and help us reach our £3000 target!

With that out of the way…

Let’s have a closer look at the We-Vibe x Lovehoney Remote Control Couple’s Vibrator.

This toy is the latest in the line of We-Vibe’s signature U-shaped vibrators, designed to be worn during penis-in-vagina intercourse. The slimmer of the two “arms” anchors the toy inside the vagina, while the outer arm rests against the vulva and provides clitoral stimulation.

The We-Vibe x Lovehoney Remote Control Couples Vibrator

This toy is rechargeable via a USB cable, giving about 90 minutes of playtime for a 2-hour charge. While the toy itself is completely waterproof, the remote is not. The WV x LH Couple’s Vibrator is 3.5 inches in total length, and the insertable section is 3 inches long.

What I liked

The We-Vibe x Lovehoney Remote Control Couple’s Vibrator is made of body-safe matte silicone. This makes it phthalate-free, non-porous, and a breeze to clean.

This toy’s two arms are separated by a flexible hinge. This allows you to position it at whatever angle is most pleasurable for your body. Since no two bodies are the same, making it adjustable better enables users to get the perfect fit for them.

The slimline design of the internal arm will make it comfortable for the majority of wearers, and prevent it from being too obtrusive during penetrative play.

I often roll my eyes about “hands free” toys. But, to give this product credit where it’s due, it did stay in place reasonably well. I don’t think it can truly be described as “hands free” as it moves around with intense thrusting, but I found it much easier to keep in place than an entirely hand-held toy. For solo sex purposes, I can pretty much use it hands-free.

Finally, the remote control is well designed. It’s very light, easy and unobtrusive to hold, and the controls are intuitive. Two buttons allow you to scroll through pattern settings, the othes change the speed.

Remote control for a remote control couples vibrator

And what I didn’t like

I had high hopes for the We-Vibe x Lovehoney Remote Control Couple’s Vibrator. We-Vibe is known for producing toys with high-quality, powerful and rumbly motors.

Sadly, the reality just didn’t match up to expectations. I don’t know if We-Vibe decided to use a different type of motor for this collaborative production, but the power in this iteration of their classic design is woefully lacking.

The vibrations are buzzy, surface-level, middling strength at best, and ultimately unsatisfying. I was not able to reach orgasm with it and I doubt I will use it again.

Final thoughts

Honestly, I’m underwhelmed.

I really wanted this toy to be amazing, as a collaboration between two companies I love should be. While the design is great in some ways, I can’t easily forgive a sex toy that completely failed to get me off. While I understand that the We-Vibe name carries a premium price-tag, at £99.99 ($119.99 US), this toy is far too expensive for its quality level.

For that reason, I sadly can’t entirely endorse this product. If you can afford to spend a little more, get the Sync or Chorus instead. If you’re on a budget and looking for something that will fit between bodies during sex, you’ll be better off with a really good bullet vibe.

Thanks to Lovehoney for sending me the We-Vibe x Lovehoney Remote Control Couple’s Vibrator to review. All views are my own. Affiliate links appear in this post.

The Question Game

For Smutathon 2019, I promised to write a bespoke story for the first person who donated $200! That wonderful person was @SuperSleepyEnby, and they requested a first-date hypnokink story involving a pocket watch. I added a bit of orgasm control because, well, that’s my jam. I hope they – and all of you – enjoy it!

One: Them

I watch her across the table as she sips her drink. She way her eyes flutter closed just for a second, the faint kiss of purple lipstick she leaves on the glass… god, she’s gorgeous. She swishes her drink around in the glass, intently watching the pale pink liquid. I suspect this is so she can buy herself another second before she has to meet my gaze again. I know she’s shy. The way she blushes just makes me want her even more.

This might just be the best first date of my life, and we haven’t even touched yet, apart from a quick hug and very chaste cheek-kiss hello. This woman is whip-smart, hilarious and pings all my kink buttons, as well as being just the kind of femme cutie I can’t resist.

For the last half hour – dessert long since cleared away and our second round of drinks recently delivered – we’ve been playing the Question Game. We take turns to ask each other a question. They started off tamely enough – what was your favourite subject at school? Tell me about your relationship with your siblings? Gradually, as the hour grows later and drinks make us bolder, they get more risque. What was the strangest place you ever had sex? Tell me a fantasy you’ve never told anyone before.

I drain my glass of whisky and signal to our waitress to bring me another.

“I believe it’s your turn,” I tell my date.

She meets my eyes. There’s a wicked smile playing around the edges of her lips. The question that comes out of them, though, is not what I was expecting.

“What’s in your jacket pocket?”

“My… what?” Caught off guard, my hand goes automatically to the pocket.

“There’s a chain poking out of your pocket. What is it?”

“Oh. This.” I take out my pocketwatch and hold it out for her to see. I slip it into her hand so she can look closer and she turns it over, admiringly, pops it open then closes it again.

“It’s beautiful,” she says.

“Family heirloom,” I say. “It goes everywhere with me. For good luck, I suppose. Or something.” I wonder if she’ll notice the faint note of mischief in my voice. It’s there, but faint enough for her to pick up on if she chooses and leave aside if not.

I take the watch back and slip it back into the breast pocket of my jacket. “My question. What were you hoping it would be?”

“I didn’t have hopes. I was just curious.” She rests her chin on her interlocked fingers and regards me with a gaze that says she knows exactly what she’s doing. “So is it true?” She says after a second. “The myth about hypnosis and pocket watches?”

“Do you want it to be true?” I’m reasonably sure I know the answer – my hypno-kink experience and her curiosity about the same occupied a good portion of one of last week’s late-night IM chats, after all.

“Uh-uh. My turn to ask the question,” she says, a flash of what she calls her latent switchy energy coming to the surface.

“Yes, it’s true.”

“And how does it…” she begins, but I cut her off.

“My turn.”

She sits back and grins. We’re sparring with each other now, and it’s hot as fuck. She mimes zipping my lips shut and waits for my question. I consider it, and decide to take the gamble.

“Do you want to see how it works?”

“What?”

“That’s my question. Do you want me to give you a demonstration of how it works?”

She’s thinking. She purses her lips, takes another sip of her drink, then sits forward and leans her forearms on the table. “Sure. And since that makes it my turn for a question… your place or mine?”

Two: Her

Half an hour later and I’m in their bedroom. A quick pre-negotiation covers the boundaries, and they explain to me their fundamental axiom that governs this type of play: “I can only hypnotise you if you consent to being hypnotised. It’s not mind control. I can’t do it to you if you decide not to let me.” I tell them I agree. I tell them I really, really want this.

The preamble out of the way, they tell me to lean back against the pile of pillows at one end of the bed. I sink into it and they kneel in front of me. We’re both fully clothed, still. That somehow makes it hotter.

They pull out the watch. I resist the urge to giggle, suddenly, at what a stereotype this is. When I asked if the pocket watch thing was true, I didn’t really expect to be offered a demonstration (though, if I’m honest with myself, in my deepest fantasies it’s exactly what I wanted.) They stifle the giggle before it surfaces by fixing me with such an intense gaze I think I might just melt into a puddle on the spot.

“Now I want you to focus on the watch. It’s going to start swinging very gently back and forth. Follow it with your eyes. That’s it. Listen to the sound of my voice while you keep watching it. Watch it swaying, feel the rhythm, you can’t look away, just keep following it and listening to my voice…”

The specific words start to become meaningless after a while. As I keep my eyes fixed on the swaying watch, I begin to feel as though my upper body is swaying gently along with it.

“You’re going to start feeling like you want to close your eyes. When you feel that, it’s okay to do so. That’s it, be a good girl and close your eyes for me… feel your eyelids getting heavy…”

I’m not sure it’s even accurate to say that I obey them, because it does not feel like a conscious choice. Rather, my body follows of its own accord. All it wants to do is what that gentle, soothing, encouraging voice tells me to do.

Three: Them

The thing with hypnosis is that some people are much, much more susceptible to it than others. Some people just can’t really get there – a part of their brain just won’t switch off enough to allow it. But the woman in front of me is definitely, definitely susceptible. I can’t remember the last time I saw someone trance so quickly and easily.

Fuck. I feel my cock getting hard as I think of all the sexy possibilities. Not tonight, though. Tonight I’m not even going to touch her. Not directly, anyway.

“Put your left hand down by your side,” I instruct, taking care to keep my voice low and calm. A first-time trance can be fragile and I don’t want to break it. She does so. “That hand is tied there. You cannot move it again until you’re given permission. With your right hand, I want you to put it between your legs and touch yourself the same way you usually do.”

I pause for a moment and watch her. She slips her hand into her skirt and panties and a whimper escapes her lips as her fingers find her clit. “You’re going to rub slow circles on your clit for me. One… two… three… yes, good girl, keep that rhythm going. You will not speed up, slow down, stop, or orgasm unless I tell you to.” I pause and watch her. God, this is so unbelievably sexy. “I’m going to be asking the questions now, and you’re going to answer them honestly for me. Can you do that, pretty thing?” I ask her.

“Yes, Sir.” The voice that comes out is quiet, compliant, submissive. Exactly the state she told me she gets into when she’s in deep subspace. Perfect.

“First question. How aroused are you right now, with a one being not at all and a ten being at the point of orgasm?”

“Five, Sir.”

“I see. And is that because being under my control gets you going?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Do you want me to take control of how aroused you can get?”

“Yes please, Sir.”

“Then I’m going to give you a number from one to ten. That number is how aroused you’ll be and how close to orgasm. You will not stop what you’re doing or change the pace at all. Now, I think you’re a little too excited for this early in the game so let’s take you back down to a three. That’s it, good girl.”

Her breathing steadies, but her fingers keep moving. Good. This is working very nicely.

“Now let’s very slowly ramp back up to a five… remember to keep those fingers moving exactly the way I showed you, no faster or slower… one… two… three… four… let your arousal slowly increase.”

I decide to take the risk and try something. “Now for five seconds, you’re going to be right up at an eight. Ready? Now.” She moans and the hand that I’ve bound clutches at a handful of sheet, but remains in place. She squirms as I count down the five seconds. “Was that nice? Good girl, now let’s calm you back down to a four…”

I sit back and watch her, a little mesmerised myself by the rhythmical, steady movements of her fingers on her clitoris.

“Next question. If I let you pick any number right now, what number would you pick?”

“Nine.”

“Nine? That sounds like somebody wants to be on the edge but not quite coming. Is that right?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Perhaps we’ll go to a nine a little later. Let’s get you to a seven right now.” I’m not sure if the whine that comes from her lips is pleasure or frustration, but I love it either way. I’m rock hard and I know I’m going to be jerking off to the memory of this for a long time to come.

“That’s it, hold that there for me, sweetheart. Such a good girl. Keep those fingers moving, don’t speed up, don’t slow down… hold that seven for me, good girl.”

“Next question. Do you think you’ve been a good enough girl to be allowed that nine you asked for?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Mmmmm. Yes, I think so too. As you wish… nine. Feel your arousal increase. You’re so close to the edge now, aren’t you? I love knowing you’re so close but I have such control over you that you can’t tip over into orgasm unless I give you that magic number.”

She’s squirming, seemingly uncontrollably, humping her own hand as if trying to get more stimulation but not able to rub any harder or faster than I’ve told her to. Her sounds are sometimes moans and sometimes whimpers, but always fucking music to my ears.

“Feel the orgasm building inside you, so close you can taste it but not able to wash over you unless I let it. It hurts, doesn’t it? Feel that exquisite ache, feel how much your body wants it… but it wants to obey me even more. Keep that hand moving nice and slowly. Good girl.” The calmness of my voice, juxtaposed with the writhing and whimpering of the desperate, tranced girl on the bed in front of me, amuses me. I feel my inner sadist poke their head out.

“Bring it back down to a 7 now. Good girl, come down off that edge. You’re still really aroused, though, aren’t you? Hold it there. Good girl. Last question. Do you want me to give you a ten and tip you over into orgasm?”

“Yes please, Sir!”

“Take your hand away. I think that’s enough for our first session. Time to start bringing you back to earth, sweetheart.”

Ten Tips for Getting the Most Out of Fetlife

Ahhhh, Fetlife.

Love it or hate it, the “Facebook of kink” is still the absolute number one place to be on the internet if you’re a kinky person who wants to interact with the BDSM and fetish community outside of your bedroom.

But if you’re not careful, it can be a bit of a cesspit. Here are my top ten tips for getting the most out of Fetlife.

Fill out your profile

You really need to fill out your profile if you want to use Fetlife to help you build a community. You don’t have to post an essay, but “I dunno just ask me” or “I hate talking about myself” do not constitute a profile.

Tell us whatever it is about yourself that you’re happy to share. For starters, try: how long have you been on the scene, what does kink mean to you, what your relationship(s) look like, and what you’re looking for. You could also include an outside-of-kink hobby or interest or two!

Choose your role carefully

There are tonnes of different role options you can choose from. Of course there’s the ubiquitous Dom/Sub/Switch, but there’s also Kinkster, Hedonist, Pet, Brat, Daddy, Princess, and many more. Choose the one that best suits you (and, if you want, say something about what it means to you in your profile!) Remember you can always change it, too, so don’t be afraid to swap things around as you gain experience and change as a kinkster. I wrote a deeply personal post last year about the different role descriptors I’ve used over the years.

Consider your location

The running joke is that there are more kinksters in Antarctica than people, because so many Fetlife users put “Antarctica” as their location to avoid revealing where they really live.

If you need to conceal your location, I’m absolutely not judging. Please do what you need to do in order to be safe! But if you can, consider putting your actual town/city or at least somewhere close to it. (Or a general area, like your state or county.) This makes it easier to connect with people who live near to you, and also means you’ll get event recommendations based on your location. (Not many dungeon parties in Antarctica, funnily enough!)

Say what you’re looking for

In your profile header, you can pick “What I’m Looking For” from a dropdown menu. Options include everything from “a Master/Mistress” to “a lifetime relationship” to “Events” to “Friendship.” You can choose more than one. Consider carefully what it is you’re looking for and be honest here! Saying you’re only looking for friendship or events won’t entirely stop the creepers from messaging you, but it will cut down on it. If you say you’re looking for a romantic, sexual or kinky partner, it’s a really good idea to delve further into what you’re after in your profile (or by using the “Writings” feature.)

Read profiles before messaging!

I really cannot emphasise this enough. Please read someone’s ENTIRE profile before messaging them – and pay attention to what it says. My profile states very clearly that I have no interest in submissive cis men and that they should not under any circumstances message me. I still get an average of one “HeLlO MiStReSs CaN i LiCk YoUr BoOtS?” type message per day. I also say I don’t add strangers as friends, and yet the random friend requests still flood in. Read a damn profile, and heed what it says. You are not the exception.

Message respectfully

So you’ve read someone’s profile and they’ve sparked your interest enough to want to make a connection. The first message can really make or break things here. Don’t go in with sexual content straight away (yes it’s a fetish site, but there are human beings on the other end of your message!) Don’t make demands, make assumptions of roles (this means no calling someone Sir, Mistress, Daddy, slut, slave or any other kinky title without consent!) or ask people to meet straight away. Do at least a cursory check of your spelling and grammar (graduate thesis level perfection is not expected but making an effort is nice.) Don’t wall-of-text. Don’t ask someone to meet straight away. Just… be a friendly, normal, respectful person.

Join groups

There are literally thousands of groups on Fetlife! These operate as discussion forums based around topics. Many are for specific kinks or fetishes (for example, Spanking, Orgasm Control or Needle Play.) Others are based around a specific geographical location, or even a specific event (Attendees of Fetish Fest 2020, for example.) There are even non-kinky groups where you can just discuss a topic of mutual interest! I’m in book groups, health and fitness groups, groups for people who are childfree-by-choice, and many more. Pick a few interests and join groups.

Read and obey group rules

All groups have rules governing the kind of content that is allowed in them. Many, for example, will specify “no personal ads” (cruising for dates/play,) “no advertising” (commercial or business content or advertising your event,) or even be limited to a certain demographic (such as under 35s, women, or LGBTQ folks.) Disregarding group rules is likely to get your posts deleted and may even get you kicked or banned from groups. It also wastes moderators’ time, annoys group members, and makes you look like a dick. Just read the rules and follow them.

Don’t pay too much attention to Kinky & Popular

Ugh, Kinky and Popular. This page highlights posts (photos, videos and writings) which have garnered a lot of attention in a short space of time. No-one is 100% clear how the algorithm works, but that’s the gist of it. The thing is, K&P is mostly full of what can best be described as “vanilla porn” – videos of fairly heteronormative, vanilla sex acts and nude pictures of skinny, young, normatively attractive white girls. Which are fine if these are your thing, but they’re not really what most people go to Fetlife for.

K&P also generally makes people who don’t fit into these narrow beauty standards feel shit about ourselves and our bodies. There are occasional K&P writings that are absolute gems, but you have to weed through a lot of crap to get to them. Just ignore K&P is my advice. Kink isn’t a popularity contest.

Reach out to community leaders and prominent figures

See someone who looks like they’re a leader, event organiser or prominent and respected person in your local community? Reach out to them! Amongst all the crap in my inbox, I love receiving the “I’m new to the scene in [place where I live,] saw you’re pretty active and wondered if you’d be willing to be a friendly face at [the munch next Tuesday/Bob’s party on Friday night/the next Peer Rope workshop] as I’m a bit nervous” type messages. Community leaders become community leaders because we love helping people and helping the scene to thrive. Reach out. Be polite, be respectful of their time, and be specific if you can in what you’re asking.

The Smutathon banner

Group Sex Does Not Ruin You For 1-on-1 Sex

Believe it or not, this post title has been in my ideas list for ages… and then Exhibit A said almost exactly the same thing about group sex in one of his Smutathon posts! So this forms my final post of the day (probably, unless this is quicker than I think it’s going to be and I end up rattling off a sixth one). If you still want to donate to our fundraiser for Abortion Support Network, you’ve got time!

I get asked this question surprisingly often. “Doesn’t group sex mean you can’t be satisfied with one on one sex any more?”

The short answer is no. The long answer is…

Things, and people, don’t work that way. Are you no longer able to enjoy a simple but delicious meal simply because you occasionally go to fine dining restaurants? Are you unable to appreciate quiet drinks with friends because you’ve also experienced wild, dancing-on-tables nights out on the town?

No. Because people don’t work that way.

Sex is exactly the same. The idea that things always have to get more and more and more extreme in order to keep a person satisfied once they’ve had a taste of the “exotic” just doesn’t stack up. Sex isn’t a drug. You don’t need a bigger hit every time to get the same high.

I love group sex. Love it love it love it. The tangle of bodies, all the hands and mouths and cocks and cunts and… oops, sorry, got a little carried away there. Point is that it’s brilliant. No matter how many times I do it, and how often and in what combinations, it’s still fucking amazing. I honestly don’t see that ever changing.

But you know what? One on one sex works exactly the same way! We might have had nine-person orgies (that was a great birthday) and group spanking parties and kinky threesomes and wild nights with other couples… but none of that takes away from the simple, perfect loveliness of my partner’s lips on mine and his cock inside me. Enjoying four or six or eight hands on me doesn’t mean I can’t still delight and find bliss in the same two hands that have known and loved me for years.

It’s the same with kink. I have done some wild kinky shit in my life, and loved every second of it. But it doesn’t mean every session needs to be wilder and more extreme than the last! Despite what some scaremongers would have you believe, spanking is not a slippery slope to being strung up from the ceiling on meat hooks. (Hook suspension exists, don’t google it if you’re squeamish, #YKINMKBYKIOK!)

The intense stuff I’ve done has been brilliant and I’m sure it will continue to be brilliant. But it doesn’t mean I’m always seeking harder, crazier, more. A light spanking can still thrill the hell out of me exactly as much as it did the first time I experimented with it. A good old vanilla-ish fuck with my partner is still super satisfying, too!

Sex is not a drug. You cannot “ruin” yourself for one-on-one sex by having group sex. Liking kink is not a sign that your desires are getting out of control or that you’ll end up doing something dangerous to get your rocks off. Enjoy what you enjoy, and don’t stress – you’re not going to lose control.

Men: Her Orgasm Is Not About Your Ego

This is my third post of #Smutathon2018: #SmutForChoice Edition. Please donate to our page for Abortion Support Network, and don’t forget to leave your email address or Twitter handle so we can enter you into the raffle to win some awesome sex toys!

Dear Well-Meaning Cishet Man,

This one’s for you.

You’re a good guy, right? You care about your sexual partner’s pleasure, and her orgasms. You even eat pussy! When DJ Khaled’s comments surfaced about “different rules” for men re. oral sex, you probably tweeted furiously “I’M A GUY AND I LOVE EATING PUSSY”.

Well, okay. But slow down. I want you to read this with an open mind, and try not to feel attacked. That’s not my aim.

However, please – please – stop making your female partners’ orgasms about your ego! Let me explain.

When I started having partnered sex in my mid and late teens, my boyfriend compelled me to tell him I’d never had an orgasm before I met him. He’d decided this was the case.  Telling him it wasn’t seemed like it wouldn’t achieve anything but bruising his ego. He was very into the fantasy of me as the perfect innocent. So I went with it.

I think a lot of young women have similar experiences. Their (also young and often inexperienced) boyfriends want to feel like sex gods who introduce them to a world of pleasure they never knew existed before. They don’t want to hear “I’ve been having orgasms by myself for years”. This narrative is a big part of the Fifty Shades of Grey fantasy. Ana has not only never masturbated or had an orgasm. She’s never even thought a sexual thought until Christian “I-Don’t-Make-Love-I-Fuck-Hard” Grey deigns to deflower her.

How this played out for me was thus: he didn’t really know what I liked. I knew what I liked, but couldn’t tell him because then he’d known I’d – gasp – had sexual feelings and even touched myself before he showed up. So a long time was spent with him trying to get me off, and either getting pissed off that it took so long (when I got there at all) or me faking it because dude, it’s been two hours, my clit is rubbed raw. 

This is, of course, a sex education problem. We don’t teach young women that exploring their bodies is okay. We don’t teach boys that girls masturbate and hey, she might know a thing or two about her own body! Instead, we glorify this notion of “I’ve never felt anything like this before!” even when you’ve totally felt something like that before… a lot.

A big part of the problem, though, is that these attitudes don’t really change as we get older! I remember reading in a glossy magazine (it was probably Cosmo?) advice along the lines of “when he whips out a new move in bed, tell him you’ve never done that before, even though you totally did that with your ex”. (That’s how Cosmo talks, right?) The point is that women are still supposed to coddle our male partners’ egos to the point of straight-up lying to them, in order to pretend they’re the only person who has ever unlocked our sexuality.

This also plays out in other ways. I hang out on the Sex Toys forum at Reddit and also similar groups on Fetlife, and time and again men will post: “looking for a sex toy for my partner, but it needs to not be too big or powerful. Don’t want it to replace me!” But what if that big dildo or power-tool vibrator could give their partner the best, most explosive orgasms of her life? I guess it doesn’t matter – what they’re thinking about is not her pleasure, but being upstaged.

Men: women’s sexuality does not exist to stroke your ego! If your partner has a rich and fulfilling erotic life with herself, and/or had a rich and fulfilling erotic life with other partners before you came along, this doesn’t imply anything about you! When she uses toys, she’s not replacing you!

If you want your partner to never have masturbated (or to pretend she’s never masturbated,) or if you want your partner to have never had good sex with anyone else until you came along, you are not being sex positive. You are not being a good lover. You’re making your partner’s sexuality a receptacle for your ego.

And this brings me on to the Great Pussy Eating Debate of 2018, and the problems I see with it. Obviously, what DJ Khaled said was gross, as are all the other ridiculous things straight men have said about going down on people with vulvas. However, a lot of the responses pissed me off too. A lot of men felt the need to weigh in on how THEY always go down on their partners. Which… might seem harmless but is actually indicative of a particularly insidious form of virtue signalling that often comes into play around (particularly heterosexual) sex.

Prioritising your partner’s pleasure isn’t something to brag about. It’s the bare fucking minimum.

The other place I see this kind of ego-tripping manifest is around the issue of whether or not a woman orgasms during a sexual encounter with a man – and how that orgasm happens, if indeed there is one.

Too often, I hear “I want to make her cum from intercourse, no clitoral stimulation, what am I doing wrong?”.  What you’re doing wrong, my dude, is prioritising your fucking ego over her fucking orgasm. The vast majority of people with vulvas don’t experience orgasm from penetration alone. This is normal. What you need to do is realise you don’t actually have a problem that needs solving. Talk to your partner, and stimulate her fucking clit the way she likes.

Basically: sex is much better when you take your ego out of it. I promise.

[Toy Review] Happy Rabbit Thrusting Realistic Rabbit Vibrator

This review is my first post of #Smutathon2018: #SmutForChoice Edition. Please donate to our page for Abortion Support Network, and don’t forget to leave your email address or Twitter handle so we can enter you into the raffle to win some awesome sex toys! Now on to the review…

A Thrusting Vibrator?

I have a complicated relationship with rabbit vibrators – I occasionally find one I love, often find one I hate, and am frequently quite indifferent to this whole category of toys. The main reason for my struggle with dual stimulation toys is that I just don’t like vibrations inside my vagina. My G-spot, as I have mentioned previously, either wants to be pounded, caressed or left alone – never vibrated. (Coming up later will be a guide to choosing a rabbit, so look out for that!) So when I saw that Lovehoney’s new line of Happy Rabbit vibrators includes a rabbit with a shaft that thrusts rather than vibrates, I simply had to try it out.

The Thrusting Happy Rabbit standing up on a wooden dresser.Bunny Bits ‘n’ Bobs

The Thrusting Happy Rabbit is one of seven toys in Lovehoney’s new Happy Rabbit range. It’s quite a large toy at 9 inches in total length, 4.75″ of which is insertable, and a diameter of 1.5″.

There are two control buttons, one to control the thrusting motion and one to control the clitoral vibrations in the ears. The one-button control for the vibrations is annoying, as you have to scroll all the way through in order to go back to a previous setting. Toy designers: up and down buttons, please!  I do also wish it wasn’t quite so pink.

The Thrusting Rabbit is fully waterproof, and is USB rechargeable, giving a decent 120 minutes play time from a 150-minute charge.

A hopping good time

A gif of the Thrusting Happy Rabbit in action.

I admit I looked at this toy and gulped – I normally need a good amount of warm-up to take something this size internally. Thankfully, apparently “haven’t had an orgasm in a few days” + “lube” = sufficient warm-up.

What surprised me even more was that it brought me to orgasm in under five minutes!

The thrusting motion feels amazing. There are three different speeds of thrusting motion to choose from. I preferred the slowest speed, but as ever your mileage may vary.

Can we just acknowledge that our Air BnB has INCREDIBLE lighting for photographing sex toys?

The “ears” are thick and firm, and have a massive fifteen different vibration settings. They’re not the most powerful vibrations you’ll ever find, but they were more than sufficient to get me off. The clitoral arm has some flexibility, so you can maneuver it to fit with your body.

The main downside in this toy, for me, is the sound. It’s not exactly loud – my partner couldn’t hear it from the next room with the door shut – but the thrusting motion sort of… squeaks? It wasn’t distracting enough to stop me enjoying all the good points of this product, but if you’re very sensitive to sounds (particularly higher pitched sounds) it’s something to be aware of.

Materials & Cleaning

The entire Happy Rabbit range are made from body-safe, non-porous, phthalate-free silicone. A far cry from the horrible jelly things that everyone went mad for after that episode of Sex & the City aired 20 years ago!

As the Thrusting Rabbit is completely waterproof, clean-up is a breeze. Just use some warm water and gentle soap for a thorough clean. For a quick clean between uses, a body-safe sterile wipe will work just fine.

A word of caution on cleaning: due to the creases in the thrusting mechanism, germs and bacteria can easily get trapped in there. Take extra care around these folds to make sure you get all bodily fluids and lube out.

The insertable part of this toy is condom-compatible. As ever, water-based lube is recommended.

So did the Thrusting Rabbit make me happy?

Yes! If, like me, you enjoy dual stimulation but don’t want internal vibrations, this toy is a great choice for you.

It is on the pricier side, retailing for £79.99 ($119.99 US.) However, it’s cheaper than Fun Factory, probably the most popular thrusting vibes on the market right now, and much cheaper than a fucking machine. So if you want a good quality thrusting toy, this is a really great option.

Thank you to Lovehoney for sending me the Thrusting Happy Rabbit in exchange for an honest review. If you purchase through any of my affiliate links, I make a small commission – however, any affiliate income made this weekend (Saturday 11/Sunday 12 August) will be donated to Abortion Support Network!

I’m So Done with the Concept of “Foreplay”

Controversial opinion time: foreplay is not a thing.

There’s a big problem with the concept of foreplay. I don’t mean the acts it entails – fingers, tongues, mouths, toys, making out, massages, undressing each other and more. All of those things, and many more, are wonderful and valid expressions of sexuality.

But those things? They are not foreplay. They are sex.

Let’s break this down. “Foreplay” implies that it comes before something – namely, of course, penis-in-vagina (hereafter PIV) sex. And this is problematic on a number of levels.

First of all it’s heteronormative as fuck. Not everyone is straight and cisgender. Not every sexual pairing consists of one penis and one vagina. The implication here is that only heterosexual, cisgender people have Real Sex (TM) and everything else is “merely” foreplay.

Secondly, and this may come as a shock – not all straight, cisgender people even like PIV sex! Even pairings of one penis-owner with one vagina-owner does not necessarily imply that PIV will be their favourite sexual activity or even part of their sexual repertoire at all.

I’ll let you in on a secret – even though I enjoy it, loads of the sex I have isn’t PIV focussed and it’s not my favourite thing. Most of the time I could quite happily do other things instead. Plenty of the sex me and the Mr C&K have together doesn’t involve penetrative fucking. Just last night, for example, he caned my ass then watched and talked dirty to me while I got myself off with my Doxy. And it was a wonderful and fulfilling session.

For various reasons, I’m only quite rarely having PIV sex with anyone other than Mr C&K right now. The sexual relationships I have with other people are still amazing, hot and fulfilling. And sometimes, this queer girl even fucks other people with vaginas! (Shocking, I know.) Those sexual encounters with other vagina-owners are not, I promise you, any less amazing than those with penis-owners.

When a partner bends me over their lap, spanks me until I’m dripping and then fingers me hard while telling me what a dirty slut I am? That’s sex. When I pin a girl down while my partner uses the Doxy on her until she cums and he doesn’t even take his pants off? That’s sex. When I’m playing with another woman and I go down on her and she finger-fucks me until we both cum? Sex. When he holds me and reads a filthy story to me or talks me through a hot fantasy while I touch myself? You guessed it… sex.

That’s why I want to kill the idea of foreplay forever. It places PIV as the pinnacle of sexual experience and everything else as something lesser, something not quite real, something before.

There is no such thing as this thing called “foreplay,” because there are a million things under this amazing, huge umbrella that we call “sex.”

This was my final post of #Smutathon2017. If you’ve enjoyed it, please donate to the amazing charities.