Sexuality Happens

Ok.  As many of you know, I try my best to be kind to all (or at least equally snarky to all groups of people).  I’ve worked very hard to show people I am *not* a man hating queer feminist; I’m just a queer feminist.

However, what happened on Saturday really just made me want to kick into high gear on a rant on space. Because lately, I’ve been having trouble with men understanding what the hell space is, and not being invasive.

Granted, most of the other things were small; two or three guys grabbing my arms to help me off the stage at the derby after party (I *did* need the help, but hadn’t asked them for it), a guy coming up and putting his arm around my shoulder to talk to me without asking (a stranger, might I add), a couple of guys trying to get in between my and my derby wife as we were talking, a guy following me as I walked a woman to a cab, the guys who come up to me while dancing and grab me or put their hands around my waist and try to dance with me…without even introducing themselves.  Little things, but they certainly build up.

But Saturday night was just bad.  F was celebrating her friend’s birthday at a bar, and she gave me a call asking me to come over to meet her friend, and to give her a ride.  Lovely.  I met her friend; super sweet woman. Chatted with some people, and then decided to head out.  I had to pee, so I grabbed F a glass of water, and deposited her and the water by a pile of bones that said “Drill, Baby, Drill.” (Welcome to the oddness of Colorado).  I came back from the bathroom, and there was a guy standing next to her, talking to her…kind of.  It looked like he was, but she was also intoxicated, so she wasn’t really making eye contact. I came over as she finished her water, and he walked around her, and touched me. Petted me, really.

Now, I was wearing a really cool fuzzy coat, yes. However, the polite thing to do for people of any gender in this case would be to say “that’s a really cool coat – can I feel it?” instead of just petting it. But no.  He stroked me.  And then did it again.  ”Hi, my name is Jimmy” he said, offering me his hand.  I shook it and introduced myself.  And then he said “shake it again.” I did.  People are usually very surprised at the firmness of my hand shake.  

I didn’t really like this guy, but I was also not in the mood to deal with creepy men (and he was either quite drunk, or on some sort of drugs – I’m going to go with drugs actually).  And then F grabbed my hand and said “Please get me away from him.”  I went into protector mode. I don’t know what he’d said or done when I was in the bathroom, but when someone I care about wants away from a creeper (of any gender), I do the patented “hand grab-pull the fuck out of here” more.  I got to the door.  He was following us, still talking.  F politely told him to have a good night, and good bye, and we crossed the street towards my car.

As we crossed, she was talking about how we was really making her nervous.  She was talking a little loudly, and I didn’t want to get in a shouting match with him, so I told her to hold on, and we’d talk about it in the car.  I clicked open my doors, and she got it.  It takes me a little longer, so I was still easing down and sliding in, making some joke about gym clothes when she said “fuck, he is crossing the street.” 

Having been attacked. Having been stalked. Having been assaulted….my reflexes kicked into panic mode, and I slammed my door shut as I hit the “lock” button. This may seem extreme…but as the locks clicked, he reached the car and pulled on my door handle. Yes. ON MY DOOR HANDLE.  Thank god my reflexes are still trained to be scared of creepy people.  In my shut and lock mode, I’d dropped my keys, so I was grabbing around of them as he yelled at us, made faces and banged on the windows, trying my rear door handle too.  Thank god I found the keys – I was about to call 911 if I couldn’t.  I turned on the car.  He didn’t move. I apologized to F “if I hit him and he dies, please tell the cops it was self-defense.” As I started backing the car up and pulling out of the space on to the street, he FINALLY backed off and crossed back over while we drove off.

F was a little shaken up by it.  Obviously.  Wouldn’t you be?  Here’s the thing though…while I was certainly upset…I’ve gotten used to it.  I’ve gotten used to being followed to my car. I’ve gotten use to having to hide on the floor of my car in my college parking lot because a truck full of drunken military guys followed us back to campus and were trolling the parking lot.  I’ve gotten used to having my cell open with 9-1-1 dialed and ready to be called as I walk back to my car from bars and clubs. I’ve gotten used to always having “rescue signals” with my female friends when we go out dancing, for when guys start getting grabby (I am a fan of the ear pull).  I’ve gotten used to it taking 45 minutes for the cops to show up with a guy banging on my apartment door trying to break in. I’ve gotten used to being touched by random guys. I’ve gotten used to being followed around. I’ve gotten used to holding in my anger for fear of pissing off some dick who will then take it out on me, or on the next woman he sees. I’ve gotten used to my 6′ tall domina friend throwing men into tables because they surrounded me and wouldn’t let me through.

Why the FUCK have I gotten used to these things? Why is it, in today’s day and age, still so “run of the mill” for men to be in my space? I set limits.  I ask people to back off. But why are they even getting into my space in the first place?  Words can be annoying, yes. No, I don’t want your drink, thanks for asking.  Yes, thank you for complimenting my dancing, but I’d prefer not to go dance with you.  But those are words. They give me options.  Men (or anyone, for that matter) cutting into my personal space, touching me, threatening me, scaring me, stalking me, following me, intimidating me (or anyone, for that matter) is NOT ok. It’s not cute, it’s not funny, it’s not the way to flirt. It IS, however, incredibly invasive, and unacceptable. I don’t accept alcohol as an excuse. Or drugs. Or testosterone.  Take responsibility for your actions.

I don’t know what the answer is.  I see no immediate solution. All I know is that I’m sick of it.  And I am going to say something about it.  It doesn’t mean I hate men. It does mean that if you have male privldge, I ask you to think about how you use it, and how you might be being invasive of other people’s space, even if you don’t mean to.  And if your friends are doing it, tell them to stop.  The power for change comes from within.  This isn’t a women’s problem, it’s a people’s problem.

So fucking stop.

-Essin’ Em

I have had a fair amount of sex.  I mean, I know everyone thinks that I am some kind of glamorous sex blogger who gets laid all the time (when in reality, I am flat broke, completely awkward, have only been sexually active for five years, and had a two year dry spell with NO sex during that time). However, regardless, I’ve had a fair amount of sex, comparatively.  And it’s definitely been more experimental than most people’s sex lives (exhibitionism, sex clubs, floggings, piercings, edge play, being tied up, in various state, etc). And it’s been with almost more people than I have fingers and toes… And I have to say, that especially in the last year or two, I’ve have a lot of good sex. Some of it great.

However, last Monday night, I had the best sex I have ever had in my entire life. Ever. Period. With myself, with others. Vanilla, kinky, you name it.  It was mind blowing. And involved me getting completely fisted. Not five fingers, but F’s entire hand, up to the wrist, curled into a fist deep inside my cunt. Did I mention that this was the best sex of my LIFE?

F is amazing.  She is a beautiful person, and I don’t just mean the way she looks (although PS, she’s really hot.  And may let me make her my guest HNT one week…so cross your fingers!).  She’s a ray of beauty through and through.  We talk, we communicate, and I honestly feel we both listen.  And hot damn, that makes for some pretty good sex.

We came home late – we’d been out a karaoke (yes, I sang, because I’m awesome like that) with her sister and some friends. I was following her back to my place.  Once there, we got in an argument over the fact that I thought she’d been driving drunk (apparently, her car just has bad alignment, so way to go assumption on my part), but after a conversation to deal with that, we wound up headed to the bed room.

We had sex for hours.  Like four or so. It was such good sex too.  Not just “oh my god, that got me to come so hard” sex, but like mind blowing, emotional and physical, feel it throughout your body sex.

Because we both like doming and subbing, and topping and bottoming, we’d switch it up. Both of us got tied spread eagle across the bed (ps – you should go check out my review of the White Aslan Cuffs I got from Eden! They are fucking amazing!), both of us did both roles. At one point, I was lying down on the bed as we rode my face. Another, she was tied up, and I moved to adjust her wrist restraints, wound up flipping into a 69, and came that way (having never done that before).  We played with orgasm control, orgasm denial and forced orgasm.  And at one point, after she’d been fucking me and fucking me, and I had her put more lube on her hand, her entire hand just slid, completely slid, all the way into my cunt. She curled it up and made a fist inside me, and I did kegels as my body shuttered. Then she fucked me gently with it…and eventually pulled out and fucked me more.  We used the Hitachi a lot too, and we all know how much I love both using it on others, and having it used on me. (PS, if you don’t have one, go get one. No. Seriously. Do it now!)

I’m not going to write up details about every little thing we did. Don’t be too sad. I just can’t do it justice. I mean, this was amazing sex. And I felt loved and cared for, and connected, and like more than an experiment or a piece of meat. It was lovely.

Granted, my cunt was then sore for a fairly decent amount of time. And my bedroom is a mess. It actually has pretty much been a mess (a sexual combat zone if you will) since F and I started fucked – piles of discarded clothing, sheets/blankets/pillows thrown off the bed into crumpled heaps, lube and various sex toys adorning pretty much every surface ever.  But I love it.

I love this. I don’t know what it is. I don’t know how long it will last. I don’t know if and how it may morph and change. All I know is this; F is amazing. She’s an amazing person, and she’s also amazing in bed.  And I am just so bloody happy and lucky to have this phenomenal woman in my life.  That is all.

-Essin’ Em

I am not the most traditional feminine woman. I don’t like pink.  I think red roses are blase. I’m not so good with anniversaries. I have been a vegetarian for 16 years, so a nice steak dinner is out of the question. Basically, I suck at romance.  Hell, I asked a guy out to prom in high school with a scavenger hunt that involved a can of beans, an orange, a banana, a honeydew and a bag of microwave popcorn (sad part? I’m really not kidding).  Most people have more traditional romance in the tip on their little finger than I do in my whole body.

But I do find some things incredibly sweet, caring, loving, etc, that most people don’t.  And F says those kind of things a lot.

A few weeks ago, I was having a migraine. She told me if she won powerball, she’d buy me a massage every day to make it go away.  A week or two later, we were out eating (as compared to eating out).  She said that she had meant what she said; that she’d buy me a massage everyday for the rest of my life so I’d never have another migraine again.

One night, we were at her sister’s place, and everyone was on a beer run but us.  We sat on her couch, and I was ready for make out or sex or…I mean, she’d been all over me, and now everyone was gone. She looked at me. I asked her what was wrong.  She said “Nothing. I’m just thinking about how beautiful you are.  I was thinking that at breakfast at IHOP the other day, that you’re just so beautiful.  Your eyes, your skin, your body, but it’s your personality that really makes you beautiful.” I just about cried. And then a little later, Closer came on, and I teased her until she took me back to my place and fucked me.

Then, I was talking to her about writing a column on sex and disability.  She looked at me.

F: You’re no disabled.

Me: No, I really am. I have a permit and a card from the state and everything.

F: No, I mean, you’re perfectly capable.

Me: Capable of what?

F: Of everything I could want from you.

Again, I almost cried. It was the perfect answer (for me) to my disabilities. Not pretending that they aren’t there (she’s putting together an exercise program for me that isn’t hard on my knees).  Not babying me and making them the forefront of everything. Just telling me that I’m perfect the way I am, even if I’m a little broken.

This week, she came over. We had the best sex I’ve had in my entire life.  The next day, she came over and I made dinner.  The conversation went like this:

F: Thank you for cooking me dinner.

Me: Thank you for letting me cook for you.

F: Thank you for letting me fuck your face last night.

Me: That is amazing. There has to be a someecard for that! (there is not!)

Later that night, she was lying on her stomach, and asked me to massage her butt for her (apparently, butts need massaging…I had no idea!).  She murmured “you are perfect.” I asked her if she thought I was perfect because I cooked for her, and massaged her butt.  She shook her head.

These are the things that are sweet and wonderful to me, even though they aren’t text book romance. Kissing my neck and back while I’m cooking dinner, and on a cell phone call.  Coming from a studio session to play me your newest songs you’ve just recorded.  Almost passed out from sex, and still asking me what side of the bed I want. Offering to be my dessert (by riding my face). Holding me in the swimming pool and pushing me against the wall to make out with me. This is what I want. I don’t want jewelry or fancy bling. I have no use for a Coach purse, or tickets to a baseball game.  I want those little things that make me happy, that made me feel like someone cares for and about me.

Not that I’d say no to a bouquet of Sterling Roses, Stargazer or Black Calla Lillies!

-Essin’ Em

I was more than thrilled when Babeland offered to let me review the Eco Delight Kit. First of all, I’m Colorado born and bred, which makes me a sustainable and environment loving hippie at heart.  Secondly, I’ve really been wanting to get my hands on a Delight ever since I first saw one, so clearly, this kit was perfect for me.

In this kit are:

*An all natural, recycled paper bag EMBEDDED WITH FLOWER SEEDS (so you can plant the bag and flowers grow!!!)

*Organic Naked Lube

*Mamba condoms

*A Rice-Flower Massage Candle (with matches)

*A Delight vibe (I chose the Black/White, but there are other options).

Ok. Let’s break this down.

I didn’t get to use the bag, as it’s September, plus I live in an apartment building. However, come spring, I plan on planting it, and am really bloody excited about this part of the kit.  Wildflowers IN A BAG. I mean, come on!

About the lube? Yeah.  I didn’t even open it, but rather, gave it to a friend in lube need.  I’ve already review the Organic Naked Lube (read the review here), and was pretty unimpressed. In fact, I still have about 98% of the bottle left, so I didn’t feel the need to really try it out…again.

The Mamba condoms were nice; they’re vegan (like most condoms), and felt nice, at least over the toys I used them on.  They’re Swedish, and supposeably made by a non-profit, which in my book, is damn cool.  Nothing ridiculously amazing, but then again, few condoms are.

The Delight was pretty bad ass. In case you don’t know much about the Delight, it is a re-chargable vibrator (yay! No costly and harmful batteries!)..that charges *in its case.*  Yeah. Crazy, I know, but you just put it in its case, and plug the whole case in and voila! No sitting there on your counter getting fuzzy while it charges. Not awkward questions from visitors, as it sits there on your counter while it charges.  And you have easy storage too!

Now, it’s supposed to be both a G-spot and a clitoral toy, but I had my doubts. My anatomy has never perfectly fit any of these dual use toys, but I thought I’d give it a go.  The bad? Yeah – when it is inserted the right way, it definitely doesn’t hit my clit.  The good? When it is inserted the right way, it OH MY GOD hits my g-spot!  That curved part is abso-freaking-lutely brilliant!  It felt amazing…and then I turned on the vibrations. There are multiple settings, and all of them felt…well..DELIGHTful. (Insert groans here).  There was a good amount of vibration (which we all know is important too me), and so far, it’s still charged.  Plus, it’s plastic and silicone (body friendly and easy to clean), and is water resistant (shower, anyone?) I was…well…DELIGHTed by the Delight (ok, the puns stop here, promise!).

However, the high point of this kit was the Massage Candle. Oh. Em. Gee. This was genius.  I thought that the scent might be a little strong…but no, it was perfect.  AND the candle came with matches. For me, this is the equivalent of having a toy come with batteries (if it requires them).  Fucking fabulous…especially since I already had F tied up in my bed when I wanted to use it, and wasn’t ready to go on a hunt for a lighting instrument in the middle of sex.

The wax melted fairly quickly, and the glass wasn’t too hot to hold.  I poured in on her to the sound of a gasp, and then rubbed it in. And poured more on her, and gave her a back massage.  I tried it out again a few days later – she still loved it!  Finally, it was my turn…it felt amazing. I almost wish it had been hotter, but I guess that was kind of the point…that it didn’t need to be a “wax play” kind of thing, but was more soft and sensuous.  Either way, it was AMAZING, and I’m definitely hoping to get a few more of these amazing candles.

Overall, the kit gets 4 stars out of 5.  The Delight, the bag, and the Candle gets 5 stars each. Condoms get 3 or 4…I mean, they’re just condoms…good condoms, but not amazing.  And the lube? Yeah, 2 stars at the most, bringing down the average of the kit.  Hmm…actually, can I give the Massage Candle 6 stars (out of 5)? Cause I really really really liked it.

Want to get your own earth-friendly Eco Delight Kit? Visit Babeland here to get one of your own!

-Essin’ Em

I know I’m not the biggest at doing round up stuffs on the interwebs and from the blogosphere, but here are some interesting things of interest at the moment.

Dacia’s Love Machine is Audacia Ray‘s new short film…about what happens when she tries to sell her slightly used fucking machine on Craigslist. Dacia is brilliant and hilarious…you may have read her book, Sex on the Internet, or watched her directorial debut of the Bi-Apple.  Maybe you’ve heard her speak, or read her blog, or anything she’s written. Um. Ever. All over the place. Regardless, she’s back, and in full form with this hilarious movie.  It costs only $2.99 to download….so what the hell are you waiting for?

Tina Fey is Sarah Palin on SNL’s parody of a certain VP candidate. You should watch it. I find it quite amusing. I just needed a laugh, and this definitely provided it. It’s kind of creepy how similar they look.  But check it out, send it on, and all that jazz.

Also in the news is the New York City Sex Bloggers 2009 Calendar.  Basically, take all my favorite NYC peeps (except Wendy Blackheart), and stick them in one calendar. Jayme, Audicia, Tess, Sinclair, Twanna Hines, Rachel Krammer Bussel and more sexy people are all posing for this calendar…the proceeds of which go towards sex worker awareness!  And better yet? You can buy not only the calendar, but if you hurry over now, you can buy *days* on the calendar. I’ve already bought my birthday – December 9th, but if you’d like to buy a day for anything, including well wishes to me (just saying, my blogiversary is on October 15th…) or anyone else, head over there before October 1st!

There is a new post by moi up on the Femme’s Guide to Absolutely Everything about how Femme is What it Means to You.  Enjoy!

I’m still writing for the advice panel at The Lesbian Lifestyle.  The latest installment is is up, and the woman wrote me personally, thanking me for giving her such good advice (come on, communication is key folks!).  Check out the advice I gave.

Newer sex blogger Agent Ansley did an interview with me – check it out here!

This isn’t a website, but there is currently another lesbian research study going on.  Here is the info:

Are you a lesbian who has experienced an unusual, non-ordinary, transcendent or mystical state while having sex with a female partner?

Seeking lesbians over the age of 21 for a dissertation study, not including those experiences that occurred while using mind-altering drugs or alcohol, while practicing BDSM, or while practicing Tantra, Taoist or other esoteric sexual arts designed to create an altered state. (Involves a 2 hour STRICTLY CONFIDENTIAL interview either over the phone or in-person).

This is research for a doctoral dissertation, which has been approved by an ethics review board at my school.

Write: Anne Little, PO Box # 34527, 1268 Marine Drive, North

Vancouver, BC,V7P 1T2, Canada, or email: TranscendentSex@aol.com

Also. As many of you know, in my life, I’ve lost my job due to injury. I’m finally healing, but am still having trouble finding work. I’m piecing together lots of little things, but sadly, most things sexuality related don’t make much money, and I’m getting worried about rent. If you happen to have more on the money side, and enjoy my writing, I’d appreciate a donation – I have a paypal donation box on the side, or you can go to www.paypal.com and donate to essinem@gmail.com. I’m not a big asker for things. But life is getting pretty tight, and anything you can donate would be mucho appreciated. If you email me and let me know, we could do writing in exchange; your own personal erotic story, or something to that effect.

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 #148? Submit a link to your best post of the week by emailing me directly at radicalvixenatgmaildotcom Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks

Amazing

““You’re lucky I’m not being mean right now.””

Cum Squirt With Me. Confession #131

“Not much research has been done on the female orgasm in general, much less this seemingly new erotic marvel.”

Jealousy, Pornography and the Boundaries of Blogging

“I search to be a sexually free, independent and satisfied woman without the stigma of slut yet with the positive implications of slut.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself

Sugar Bank

Editor’s Choice

Blue Fantasy, Red Silk Rope

More Sugasm

Join the Sugasm

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

(Sugasm participants should re-post all the links above within a week. The following links may be excluded as long as you include all the above links.)

Sex News, Reviews, & Interviews

DVD Review: “Hostel Lupus” (Lupus Pictures)

Lady Sascha Reviews the Light-Of-Love T

Sarge Ties Up Charlotte Vale On Hogtied

VibeReview Fantasy: Decadent Indulgence

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships

The Enigmatic Angel Finds Out Just HOW Kinky She IS

Fetish Fridays: Interview With A Sissy

How Grey Does Your Garden Grow?

Rock Me Sexy Jesus

We don’t plan to stop

Where Do I Fit In The Picture

Why I hire escorts

Why, Oh Why Do I Like Watching My Wife Get Fucked

You Are Beautiful Tonight

Sex & Humor

Overheard In BDSM

BDSM & Fetish

Bonds of Love

Brutal Bastinado And Intense Sadistic BDSM

Don’t Slam The Door

Exceeding My Expectations

Meeting with BS 4

Mistress or Lusty Bitch?

Public Displays of Discipline

Renewing and Reviewing: Rule 5

Sarge Says: The Vale That Is Thin Enough For Me

Sex and Submission Round 2 Report: Mz Berlin, Mark Davis, And Bondage

She works hard for a living…

Sex Work

Satine Phoenix Is A Sinner? Repent Repent Repent!

NSFW Pics, Videos & Audio

Clips and Clamps

Feather Fan HNT

Half-Nekkid Thursday: Sunny Side Up

Sex Advice

Bend over boyfriend how to make him want anal sex

How To Put On A Condom In The Dark

Man-Handled: What Makes the Perfect Blowjob?

Erotic Writing and Experiences

Being Alone

Catalina loves Fucking Mr. F (In My Mind At Least)

Chasseur

Fuck My Mouth

Horny

The Long Kiss Goodnight

Making out in the air part1

One

What She Forgot – Another Friday Night Bedtime Story

I know some of you were skeptical…unsure as to whether or not I was truly in possession of a unicorn horn dildo. I know it’s hard to believe, I mean…unicorns are mythical and magical creatures, so it’s understandable that one might assume their horn dildos are just as hard to come across (no pun intended. And by no pun, I mean HELLO pun).  And yes, it does nestle itself into my breasts, completely hands free (I am in fact standing up, and yes, it is staying.

I took this picture the other day, because my unicorn horn was lying on top of my bathroom counter.  And it was just chilling there.  And it got me thinking about how many sex toys double as coffee table/bookshelf pieces.  Certainly most glass toys can be used as such. As can wooden toys, like my oft used and much beloved Dual Use S-Shape (which is in fact bloody amazing!).  Heavier metal items, such as the Pure Wand, can be used in case of burglars…have YOU ever tried coshing a burglar with a three pound steel dildo? Yeah, didn’t think so.

So while this is a short post, just know I am thinking about my dream house, with multiple shadow boxes on the wall in m entry way, each with a dildo of a different material in it; silicone, granite, marble (I don’t have one of these yet!), ceramic, steel, wood, glass…and whatever else they come up with next.

Yeah, I’m gonna have a pretty cool house.  And it’s gonna have a dungeon, PS.

Happy Half Nekkid Thursday!

-Essin’ Em

No less than six people have told me this in the past two months.

Literally, the exact phrase “I don’t know what to think about you.”

Can someone please explain to me what this means?  Is this a good thing, or a bad thing? Am I just such a crazy whirl wind of confusion and awesomeness that people just really don’t know what to think about me? Or…is it a good thing? As in I am too full of dimension and depth that they just don’t understand.

I don’t get it.  I feel I’m pretty straight forward. I don’t play games. I don’t beat around the bush. I am awkward. I am blunt. I talk a lot about sex. I care about people. I love cute animals. I wear black and white often. I have red hair. I say what I mean. I tell people how much they mean to me. I bust out the awkward turtle and awkward snail far too often (but only when needed).

What is there not to get? How hard can it be to think SOMETHING about me?  We all make judgements of other people, on some level, when we meet and/or hang out with them…so why am I so hard to form a thought about? Maybe I’m just too vapid, shallow and boring.

I mean, if people said “I just don’t know how to categorize you” or “I’m not sure how to peg you,” I’d get it. I’m pretty quirky/eclectic/unique/fill in your own blank.  That’s kosher- I accept that.  But you have to think SOMETHING about me…how do you just not know what to think about me?  Think lots of things if you must.  Thinking is good; it works out your brain.

This is a short post.  Drabble if you will.  But it is drabble with some questions:

a) Who here doesn’t know what to think about me?

b) If you just raised your mouse, please explain why.

c) If you didn’t raise your mouse, what *do* you think about me?

d) Why do people have trouble thinking things about me?

e) Why am I getting another migraine? (My answer; because thinking about why people don’t know what to think about me hurts my brains!)

Das ist alles fuer heute!

-Essin’ Em

This was pretty much the story of my past week:

Dear Uterine System - 

I hate you, and have no use for you. I don’t fuck XY men, and I don’t want to bear children.  Ergo, why do you exist?  Also, I am on the Nuva Ring. Back to Back. CBC. Continuous Birth Control.  I’m only suppose to bleed from my nether regions twice a year. I KNOW I’m hanging out with the roller girls a lot, and I KNOW many of them started their periods last weekend, but why did you listen to their cycles, and not the ring? And why do you make me so horny and full o’ cramps at the same time? And why is this one of the heaviest/worst periods I’ve had in years?

No love at all,

Me

Dear Planned Parenthood - 

Don’t tell me to come in for a walk-in at 4:30, take all of my info when I come in at 4:28 (according to your lobby clock), let me wait till 5pm, and then tell me I “didn’t make it in by 4:30pm” and that your “policy is very strict about the 4:30 cut-off.”  The waiting room was empty, and you didn’t tell me that when I came in. Also, I WAS IN BY 4:30 MOTHER FUCKERS.  Then telling me I couldn’t get an appt till Friday (on Tuesday)?  Not ok.

No love at all,

Me

Dear Urgent Care Doctor -

Even though I had to wait wearing nothing but a sheet for 90 minutes, thank you for being professional, for understanding that I know female anatomy, and for giving my antibiotics for my fucking infected ingrown hair. Also, for not cutting it open.  Mucho appreciation.

Not too shabby for Urgent Care,

Me

Dear Infected Ingrown Hair- 

A) WTF? There are no hairs on the inner labia? How did you get there and get infected?

B) WTF? I’ve never had an ingrown hair in my life?  Why me? Why now?

C) Thank you for giving me an STI scare. I appreciate it. NOT. I was tested in May…I’m not scheduled to be tested again till November, and would like to keep it that way.  It’s hard enough to get my blood.

D) Thank you (in actuality) for being something small, fixable, and quick to go away.

WTF,

-Me

Dear Walgreens - 

My prescription is for THREE Nuva Rings refillable THREE times.  Giving me ONE ring, and telling me I have ONE left, instead of giving me THREE rings telling me I had ONE refill of THREE left is confusing, I know, but when I’m paying $100 plus for a prescriptions, I expect more than ONE bloody (or not so bloody) ring.  I’m glad you’re willing to fix YOUR mistake, but I am not excited about driving back out to an inconvenient location to pick them up. 

Kthnxby,

-Me

Dear ALL THE MEDICAL PRACTITIONERS I’VE HAD THE LAST EIGHT MONTHS,

It would have been super duper nice if you’d pointed out to me that my Nuva Ring is contraindicated with my Neurontin (migraine meds I take 3x a day).  Yeah.  Neurologist who prescribed the Neurontin; you knew I’ve been on the Nuva Ring for like 4 years. Hi. OB-GYN who renewed my prescription, I told you I’d just started taking the Neurontin.  GP, you knew I was on both, and didn’t mention it.  I mean, no, I’m not using it as contraception (thank god, because hi medical folks, an abortion is an expense “oops, I forgot to tell you your migraine meds cut the efficacy of your hormonal contraception by more than HALF” mistake to make), but now I know why I keep getting my fucking period when I’m on the ring, roller girls or not.  And no one; no doctors, none of the CVS pharmacists, etc, ever bothered to mention this.  And I have no other fucking options.

No fucking love at all whatsoever,

-Me

And that’s been my medical life. Insurance ends at the end of this month.  Woo fucking hoo. I wonder if someone would marry me to get me insurance…

-Essin’ Em

If you haven’t heard the song “Knife Party” by the Deftones, you should go listen to it right now.

Remember when K and I played at the Submit party, and I really liked him using his knife on me?  And then I wrote some hot erotica about edge play?

Well, Essin’ Em is getting all growed up.  That’s right; I’m now using knives on others. And by others, I mean F.  And by F, I mean the beautiful, amazing, intriguing woman that I’ve been playing with for the last few weeks.

You read about me playing with her hunting knife in her basement. And about me getting my own knife, and gently running it around her back, along her breasts, across her nipples.

But the other night, it went to a whole new level.  A level I didn’t know I had in me, but that she brought out of me. And a level that was so incredibly and intensely hot.

It started with making out.  Kissing her and there.  It usually does. I love kissing her. I mean, we all know I like kissing in general, but I really like kissing her.  There is this passion, emotion, something behind it that makes me hungry for more.  As if I could kiss her all night and never feel satiated.

I scratched her back, I gently ran my finger tips over her, watching her shudder. I love feeling her shudder as I touch her, tease her.

And then I took the knife out of my night table drawer, where it has rested for a week or two, since I last used it on her. She heard the blade click open, and her eyes were drawn to the shiny metal. I ran it all over her, up and around, teasing her.  She would arch into me, she would gasp. I wanted to just fuck her right then, but I had other plans.  I just kept running it over her, between the juncture at her leg, over her leg joints, down the inside of her thighs.  She just kept gasping and moaning, and bucking into it. 

Telling her to hold still, I ran it down her outer lips.  She seemed to like that a lot, so I teased her more there for a bit until I CAREFULLY (key word here) took the back of the tip (slightly less sharp) and ran it between her lips, and then held her lips open as I gently touched them.  She made these amazing noises that connected directly to my cunt.

I turned the knife over, so the dull side was edging closer to her skin.  She couldn’t see. I looked up at her, making eye contact.  ”Do you trust me?” I asked.  She nodded. I slid the entire blade between her lips and she gasped, rising to meet it.  ”You’d better hold still.  Do you know you have a knife between your legs?” She froze. God, this was ridiculously hot. Slowly, I moved it up and down the top of her hood, barely touching her clit while I was there.  Smartly, I placed my finger tip on the tip of the blade; I wasn’t ready for an ER trip consisting of “So, you stabbed her in the vagina exactly HOW?”

As she made more and more excited noises, I moved faster and faster, varying it up a little now and again. So. Much. Fun. I’ve decided that I really like knives.  She was dripping wet; when I say dripping, I mean dripping. The blade was shiny from her pussy, and I wish I had been able to figure out some safe way to fuck her with the knife, because that was all I wanted to do right then and there.

Rather that do that (I believe Jerry once said something about no breaking your toys), I went and got my Pure Wand.  Remembering that F isn’t that experienced with toys, this has been something I’ve wanted to fuck her with forever.  As forever as we’ve been having sex at least. Three pounds of pure stainless steel. Mmmm.

I stuck the smaller end into her.  A gasp and a moan, and it slid right in.  Rubbing her clit with one finger, I slowly started moving it in and out of her, the metal shiny as it slid in and out…not a knife blade, but just as hot.  She makes things that are already fucking sexy completely AMAZING. I gently fucked her with the toy (it IS metal, and metal doesn’t give) until she was bucking up onto it over and over, telling me not to stop. She came once. I didn’t stop, kept going, a human fucking machine (did I mention my triceps are getting quite nice?).  She came again. And again, ejaculating all over me.  While J did ejaculate once, it wasn’t a lot, and was just into my hand.  Not F; it covered my legs and stomach (I was between her legs to get the best leverage), and I have to say that was possibly one of the hottest things ever to happen to me, especially as I kept fucking her, and it went everywhere, soaking the sheets (I forgot to put the throe down…ooops).

I told her she’d hate me for a moment, and then really appreciate me again, and I gently pulled out the toy, flipping it around so the larger end was in her.  An appreciative moan (did I call it or what?) told me I’d done good, and I went back to fucking her…again, with a carefully, steady motion, until she grabbed me and told me to fuck her hard.  I hesitated; this was a metal toy, and her first time with one, but the second time she asked me, I couldn’t think of any thing else I’d possibly want to do than fuck her hard with the wand…and I did.  And she came again. And again.  And then I went down on her…and she came again.

I pulled out, and she pretty much collapsed.  No, really.  As in I fucked her senseless, speechless, thoughtless. It took a while until she was even able to drink water.  I helped her move from the middle of the bed to her side, tucked her in, and rubbed her back as she fell asleep.

God, I love fucking her.  She has a beautiful body, true, but more importantly, I love the way she reacts, the way she’ll let me try new things with her, the way we just fit together. I am a lucky girl. Plus, how many people will let you bring them to the edge of climax with a knife?

-Essin’ Em