Sexuality Happens

Long story short; last night, someone tried to break into my apartment, twice. I yelled at him a lot through my locked and bolted door as he tried to peer in the peephole at me (ps – that is one of the creepiest things ever), phone in hand, ready to dial 9-1-1, telling him that he’d “better fuck off before I call the fucking cops.” He finally left. I waited up an hour to make sure he was gone for good, and then took something to help me sleep. Today, I called my landlord, and went to the police station to file an official report, in case he tries to come back.

Everyone keeps asking if I have a bat/telling me I need to buy I bat.

My answer? I have a 3 lb steel dildo; The Pure Wand.

Can you imagine someone going to jail with some head wounds, and his cellmates asking what happened?

“Some feisty fat chick beat me up with her steel dildo.”

Yeah. That’s what I thought.

(Don’t worry, I also put my pepper spray that my mother gave me for channukah by the door. Granted, I’m sure she meant it more for when I’m hanging out in the city than for the “safety” of my own apartment, but hey, it’s something, right?)

Colorado = 5 months. Philly = further down upon my shit list.

Reading makes me horny. Especially when I am doing it naked, as pictured above with HP7: DH (poor JK Rowling would be rolling in her grave. If she was dead, which she isn’t. Which means she needs to re-write the 7th book which kind of sucked).

Driving also makes me horny, but that’s a whole other story.

What is it about turning the pages of a good and interesting book that turns me on so much? I’m not talking about erotica here (although that does it as well); it can be mystery, sci-fi, fantasy…not so much with the non-fiction, although I suppose there have been a few sex guides that get me going.

Plus I wear glasses. So maybe it’s a latent librarian sex fiend stereotype just waiting to happen?

I don’t know. But let’s just say that after I finish my adventure between the pages, I have to take an adventure between some folds of my own.

Hmm…they should make a bookmark vibrator…now THERE’S a thought. If you do it, credit me :)

Essin’ Em

I like to cuddle. A lot. If I never had sex with another person again, I’d cry, and be sad, but I’d survive. That’s what my dildos and vibrators are for.

But sex toys don’t kiss. They don’t make out, and they most certainly do not cuddle.

There are many ways to cuddle:
*On the couch together while watching a movie
*With one person’s head in the other’s lap, their head/hair gently being stroked
*Lying in bed, facing each other, wrapped in each others arms
*Standing in line, with one person wrapping their arms around the other from behind
*etc, etc, etc

And then there is spooning, lying together (usually in bed), both facing the same way, called spooning because it is like two spoons in a drawer.

I LOVE spooning. So freaking much.

But here is the deal; I like to be the little spoon, the one on the inside, facing away, with my back and butt molded perfectly into my parter. I like to have their arm(s) wrapped around me, where I am held, and feel protected. I like to feel their breath on my neck. I like to snuggle on back into them. I like that I can curl up the way I like to sleep, and still be spooning.

J was ok with this sometimes, but sometimes wanted me to be the big spoon. I’m not good at being the big spoon. It feels awkward and uncomfortable to me. I don’t feel protected, I don’t feel loved. It’s weird, I know. But I’m bad at it, and I don’t like it. I don’t know which came first; being bad at it, or not liking it (hello chicken and egg), but that’s just how it is.

Maybe some people have a specific “spoon preference.” Maybe I should start putting it on my personal ads on craigslist. Maybe it should become part of my identity: I am a pansexual kinky switch femme little spoon. I don’t know.

Some people are spoon switch hitters. I was talking to a (straight) guy friend of mine, and he says he enjoys it either way; big or little spoon. That’s great for him.

I need to find someone who a) likes to cuddle, b) likes me and c) likes to be the big spoon. My life becomes more and more complicated, now that I’ve added flatware into my life.

And what the hell do you do in a threesome? You have the big spoon, the little spoon, and the…squished spoon? the middle spoon? the sandwich spoon? How do you decided who gets stuck as the monkey in the middle spoon?

This is far too much for me. I need to go back to studying for my exam for this weekend.

But before I do, a little poll (leave your answer in the comments please!)

Which spooning style do you MOST prefer?
1) I like to be the little spoon, just like Essin’ Em.
2) I like to be the big spoon, and therefore should email Essin’ Em (just kidding!)
3) I like both, and am fine with whichever my partner likes.
4) I like both, and need it to be switched up. I can’t *always* be the big spoon.
5) I hate spoons. Fork you!
6) I have another answer, and will explain.

So I’ve finally hit 50,000 hits…which is pretty outstanding, given the fact that I just started this less than a year ago as a blog to repost my sex tips columns.

Do y’all like my special awesome picture using Paint? And this is why I’m not a graphic designer…yeah. At least I tried, right?

And for anyone who cares, the quote of last night would be:

“Hey! Put my name and number down too…

Wait. I forgot, I’m a lesbian. Nevermind.” – Me.

Regarding my friend who was leaving her number for the waiter at the Italian restaurant last night. Yes, I was a little tipsy. Trying to write a paper and do a presentation on Michel Foucault, while dealing with all the drama of having sent a formal letter to the head of my program complaining about the current conditions of one of my classes…well, it was time for blue raspberry martinis. And apparently almost leaving my number for a guy I didn’t think was cute, didn’t think was funny, and wasn’t attracted to in the least. Good thing I remembered in time.

Yeah, that’s it for today. Back to Foucault.

Essin’ Em

So Saturday was a double header roller derby bout between two teams of the Philly Roller Girls and two teams of theCharm City Roller Girls/ The Heavy Metal Hookers (PRG) beat the Junkyard Dolls (CCRG), and then the the Philthy Britches (PRG) lost to the Night Terrors (CCRG). Excellent bouts, both of them.

Now, you’re probably asking what this has to do with anything sexuality related.

Hot girls. Hot women.

That’s what it has to do with it.

These women are incredible. Some look like the “girl next door” kind of look, but many have that hot, more alternative kind of look that I absolutely love (the hair, the tattoos, the colors, etc). Add in fishnets, stripped tights, hot pants, short skirts, body stockings (most teams have “colors” and assigned tops, but the players can wear what they want on the bottoms, except the Britches, who wear ruffle bottom underwear).

I’m not going to lie, I was caught staring once or twice.

Am I a bad person? I don’t go to roller derby bouts to stare at the players; certainly not. I used to play before my surgery, and I love the sport (and it IS a real sport – I’ve broken my tail bone twice!). I stick with derby because it’s fun, exciting, exhilarating, different, etc.

But the players are h-o-t. They are *real* women; not what you see in your average magazine, movie, porno, etc. They’re beautiful, and have butts and breasts and thighs and hips and real bodies and real smiles and real attitudes, and are just so incredibly attractive.

So by enjoying their attractiveness when I watch them (and yes, staring a little bit between jams as they hang out at the starting line), am I just re-creating the “male gaze,” and objectifying their bodies? Does it make a difference that I know many of them, that I am I identify as female, that I do appreciate them for their sport? Does it matter? Do they do know? And does it matter if they know?

These are just things I think about…in addition to how incredibly gorgeous roller girls are.

So I spent a few minutes yesterday trying to get good advice from Sinclair on how to properly approach a butch in their natural habitat. Or at least in a dyke bar.

I got all femme-ified, and met up with some friends at Sisters, the local lesbian nightclub.

After a vodka cranberry, another girl (with the same name as me, funnily enough) and I stood up and sang karaoke in front of the entire club. Did I mention that Thursday nights at Sister’s are HUGE? You pay $10 to get in, and then you get tickets for 10 drinks. So it was super crowded, and yet I somehow got the ovaries to sing “You Sexy Thing” by Hot Chocolate (made popular by the Full Monty). I was all for “Centerfold” by J. Geils Band, but everyone in our group voted for You Sexy Thing, so that was it.

We sung, slightly awkwardly (I told you I was awkward!) since we didn’t know all the words other than the chorus, but we were both theatre people, so there was lots of dancing, and see, I had a plan; I could point to people I thought were hot when we had the “you sexy thing” lines. It worked – I made eye contact with a couple of people, and hey, it was something.

I also met this woman who DJed the party I was at the other night. In my awkward creepy way, I myspace messaged her to tell her I thought she was awesome, and that I liked her ink (I neglected to mention I thought she was kinda cute too ;) ). She had messaged back thanking me, and telling me to come say hi at the party next month. Well, she was at the bar last night, and came up to me to introduce herself (I guess I stand out – not many people in Philly have red hair…in fact, I was the only woman in the bar last night with faux colored hair). I heard her sing karaoke, and we chatted a little.

After dancing with my friends, I spotted a HOT butch. Like leather jacket, perfectly messed up hair, belt buckle that would make a rodeo pro jealous. It took me a song or two to work up my courage, and then they put on a song by Fallout Boy. You CANNOT ask someone to dance to that. So that ended, and then I went over.

Me: “Um, so…I’ve been trying to think of something cute to say to come approach you, but I’m just at a loss. Would you like to dance?”
Her: “Oh, well, that’s nice of you, but we’re headed out. I’m K_____, it’s nice to meet you.”
Me: “I’m _____. Nice to meet you too.”

Handshake, awkward hug, I went back to dancing.

Yeah. I feel like I am back in high school. Scratch that. Middle school. I am just sooooo freaking bad at this.

I am not looking for a heavy duty long term relationship. Let me make that clear. I don’t have the time for one (hello full time work and full time school), plus I’m leaving Philly in the middle of the summer.

I am looking for:
*Hot make out sessions in the back of the club
*Hot sex sessions on the bathroom of the club?
*Hot hook-ups with incredible passionate sex (or just good sex)
*Friends with benefits with good chats and hot sex
*A short term, fun, laid back, friendly relationship
*People that want to try new things/experiment
*Interesting, nice, cool, queer friends

I also met one of the organizers of FUSE (again, the party I was at last weekend). She’s cute, but in a relationship, so more someone fun the chat with. She’s guaranteed to get me laid at FUSE next month…we’ll see. I also have class again that weekend…blah.

So I’m thinking about going to Sisters on Thursday’s more often…to get to know people, become more of a “regular,” to get my dancing moves on (I missed it soooo much when my knee was fucked up for a year, and while my knees kill me the next day, at least I can do it again a little), and to be a little social.

And that was my night in a nutshell. I was home and in bed by 1:30 am.

Essin’ Em

I have been way out of the HNT loop for a while, so I thought I’m come back, and thank Lady Brett Ashley for her wonderful holiday gift in response to my wishlist, all at the same time. She gave me this lovely, handmade chain mail necklace, which as you can see, goes quite well with some of my lingerie :)

I’ll have something much more exciting and important to say (but what is more important than jewelry and boobies?), but I wanted to make sure I got this up on time this week!

Essin’ Em

I’ve been ramping down off the EVIL topomax (hello constant tiredness, kidney stones, kidney infection and NO SEX DRIVE FOR MONTHS), and ramping onto Neurontin.

And my sex drive is starting to come back!

I was sitting in my car in traffic today, driving to my field instruction (internship/practicum dealio for school – I work at Planned Parenthood Association of Bucks County’s Rainbow Room – a youth group for GLBTQA kids ages 14-21), when I got horny. Super horny. Incredibly, oh my god, why am I stuck in traffic horny.

Luckily, traffic is perfect for fantasies when one is incredibly aroused, and I have about an hour and 45 minutes between work and my field work.

I sat there in my car, in traffic, thinking about meeting someone, having them take me home.

We’d do the usual beginnings, some hot making out, nibbling of each others ears and necks, more kissing, hands wrapped in my hair. Eventually, we’d make our way to the bedroom, she’d pin me against the wall on the way, stopping every few steps. Finally, we’d get there, and by the time we finally moke it to the bed, we would have left a trail of my clothing; my black skirt in a pool in the living room, my little red blouse crumpled by the bathroom, my bra would be non-chalantly hanging on the doorknob, and now she would slide my underwear down my thighs to fall to the floor. She allowed me to unbutton her jeans, and I’d slide them over her hips to reveal a pair of navy blue boxers. She’d keep on kissing me, and I would slowly undo each of the buttons on her light blue button down, shrugging it over her shoulders, careful to leave her tie on, the navy stripes standing out against the white of her a-line tank.

She’d push me against the bed until my knees buckled and I’d sit, lying back, and in a second, she would be on top of me, her lips crushing mine, hips grinding against me. I would be able to feel she that she had come pre-packed, and that would just turn me on even more.

Kissing down my neck and collarbone, she would eventually take a nipple in her lips, and then in her teeth, making me writhe against her. After several minutes on my breasts and nipples, just the way I like, she’d work her way down, taunting and teasing me, and finally put one finger, just one, into my dripping cunt. Then she’d lower her head to my clit and start to suck it until I started to buck into her mouth, and until I’d to BEG her to put another finger into me. She’d make me beg for a bit, and then finally, she’d put in the second finger, curve them until they hit my g-spot, and fuck me while she kept her mouth on me until I came and came so hard.

Then, we’d kiss again, and she’d tie my wrists to the headboard. Then, she’d bend my knees, and tie my legs open, and tell me she was about to have a little fun, that she was going to eat me out, and fuck me, and vibrate me, and do whatever she could to see how many times she could get me to come in one night.

She’d proceed to use a vibrator to make me come over and over until I screamed, she’d go down on me again, she’d fuck me with her fingers, and then a dildo while using a vibrator at the same time, and then finally, when I would think that I couldn’t take anymore, she’d fuck me with her cock, and I’d be so turned on, that I’d actually come from intercourse (maybe with a little help from fingers or a vibe or…?).

***No, I’m not a pillow princess…this is just what fantasies are all about***

Hi.

Soooo. I’ll be at the Dinah Shore Weekend this April. April 2nd-April 6th to be precise. I may even have some free toys to give away (and if not, I’ll have my sizzling personality, and a king size bed…so that should be far more than enough to tempt to you dazzling dykes, right?).

But my question is, who else is going? When I went last year, I went with 3 other women from my job. This year, I’m going all alone. I don’t want to be all alone, especially with my inability to flirt (although let me tell you, if I can get hooked up with a hot butch sex god like I did last year, there will be absolutely NO complaints from this corner).

Are you going? Do you have any friends going to whom you could introduce me? I’m going to the Girl Bar Dinah (as compared to the Planet Out/Club Skirts Dinah), but if you or people you know are going to either one, let me know; we can meet up in Palm Springs for dinner or something (and if you’re going to the Girl Bar one, we can rock at some of the parties together perhaps?). I’ll be staying at Hotel Zoso in the city.

Don’t make me be a lonely little Femme – help a girl out! And if you’re thinking about going, but weren’t going to go, because you wouldn’t know anyone, well…you’ll know me!

Essin’ Em

w00t! This is an awesome Sugasm :) My post on “Who gets to talk about sex” is a top pick, and Juno Henry also has her post as a top pick…and Sinclair’s (from Sugarbutch) super hot “Houseboy’s Rebellion” is the Editor’s Pick. Meooooow! Check them out, and enjoy everything the Sugasm has to offer.

Essin’ Em

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #116? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
Debauched nothings
“You promised me you’d give me your cock.”

Sex Trophies
“Inside the drawer are two pair of panties.”

Who gets to talk about sex?
“I was thinking the other day about who gets to talk about sex and sexuality.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself

Cashback

Editor’s Choice

The houseboy’s rebellion

More Sugasm

Join the Sugasm
See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.