Sexuality Happens

EDIT: So I wrote this post when I thought I was going to be going to New York. This is not longer the case due to ticket issues, Q’s father being laid off and more.  Ergo, I’m still in Phoenix. Le Sigh.  However, I liked what I wrote about my thoughts and issues with family. So I’m keeping it up. Just don’t get confused with me not *actually* being in NY. -EE

And I’m off, once again, to New York to visit with Q’s family.

Family is such a hard concept for me.  I have such a small family; a grandfather and aunt (and her partner) in FL, my mother and sister in CO, and an aunt/uncle/3 cousins in Israel. That’s it. The whole thing.  I’ve met all of the Israelis I think 3 times (when I was little, my bat mitzvah and my sister’s bat mitzvah), and I see the FL troupe maybe once a year, my mother and sister MAYBE twice. They certainly have no plans to visit me in AZ.

But Q is so much closer with her family. She talks to them a lot, supports them through their problems, celebrates their triumphs. They are all so excited about her coming for a few days, and I just feel so out of place, like there is something wrong with me that I don’t have a large and/or loving and connected family.

It’s been over a decade (11 years next month) since my father died.  I’ve gotten over, for the most part, people asking my about my “parents” and “so, what is it that your father does?”  It’s just so hard for me to interact with family in the way that Q does. I want her family to like me so much, and I almost try too hard, and then wind up failing at my mission anyways. Le sigh.

But, we’re meeting with PhinLi bookings on Friday night, and I’m hoping to stop by Re/Dress (the plus size vintage/thrift store) to get some cute clothes and maybe a bathing suit, so I’m getting to check some “important” stuff off my list as well.

I leave you with this picture from Q and my last trip together, on the plane (in a shirt her mother gave me for the holidays), and I’ll see you on the flip side!

-Essin’ Em

The hot queer eye candy this week is none other than the oh so sexy  and totally fierce femme Stacy Staxx on one of my favorite kink sites; WaterBondage.  You can also find her in a really hot scene with August on CrashPadSeries.com with some hot wax and lots of fun. Without further ado, enjoy!

Click here to see more of Stacy on WaterBondage.com!

For years, more than three to be exact, I’ve been really good about posting once a day, every day. Even if it’s a shorter post (more like 200, 300 words), I post every day. I remember reading a post from AAG back in 2007 telling people that was the first step in developing committed readers, and becoming a professional blogger. I never really became a professional blogger, but I did become a professional pervert, and I think AAG’s advice and this blog have had a lot to do with that.

As my life gets more busy and crazy and complicated, and I have a “real” job that pays my salary, and involves some travel and/or late nights, I’ve been having more trouble getting this done. Why? Because self-care has become an important anthem in my life (blame being in love with a social worker), and whereas I used to stay up till 4am to wake up at 7am for work, I now try to be in bed, whether for sleep or reading by 11pm or midnight. While I used to sit and watch TV and type posts until the wee hours of the morning, I now keep my TV time and internet time mostly apart, and am back to reading voraciously, because that is how I decompress.

What does this mean? Not as many long, deep, oh so witty posts. I promise you, those too will present themselves, but not always in the mass that they have in the part.

However, I’m taking another tip from AAG.  She tends to post an “old school” post two or three times a month, a post from back in the day, so that people who are newer to reading her get a hint of what’s gone on in her blog’s past. I LOVE that.  Ergo, I will be posting the occasional (maybe two times a month?) back in the day post.  While I haven’t been blogging nearly as long as you, I have some good posts from 2007 and 2008 that I think some of you may enjoy. And some of them show exactly how much I’ve change, so that is always cool as well.

Please don’t hate me. I promise to keep this updated as much as I humanly can. Just remember I also need to take care of myself as much as I humanly can, so that I don’t fall back into depression, or go a little too crazy.

I love you, dear readers, though I don’t always understand why you actually read this.  But note, I’m not going anywhere, just being a good little moose and practicing some self care.

-Essin’ Em

A friend of mine, who just so happens to be AWESOME, is working on an anthology of people who have genders that are non-conforming to society’s standards. I’m really freaking excited to read this book…the problem is, they are still looking for submissions to it.

So if your gender is non-conforming in some way, any way, get yourself up to write a submission for this so I can eventually read it in all of its coolness.  You can click here, or read below for more info.

Call for Submissions:

Working Title: Stalled
Editors: K. Bridgeman and A. Lee Crayton
Contact: stalled.the.book [at] gmail [dot] com
Submission Deadline: December 31, 2010

The range of gender non-conforming folks is broad.  We are men, women, genderqueers, two-spirits, trans women/transwomen, trans men/transmen, intersex, bois, grrrls, butchs, faeries, FtMs, MtFs, tomboys, drag queens, transvestites, transexuals, queers, none or maybe all of the above?*  In a society that preaches gender as rigid, fighting for gender self-determination can be challenging.  For some the process is finite, traveling from point A to point B, while others wade continuously through the mire or transcend altogether. But despite the trajectory of our own personal journey, we all experience the polarizing demands of the binary.

One way these demands are evident is in sex-segregated spaces: changing stalls, detention centers, restrooms, group homes, homeless shelters, locker rooms, and security checkpoints.*  These places can be hard to avoid, and interaction with them demands we make a choice about how we will present ourselves. With this anthology, we want to explore the sometimes difficult, layered, isolating, heart breaking, frightening, awkward, frustrating, challenging, funny, and/or queer experiences people are faced with in these settings. Stalled is a space for us to share our stories.

Gender-nonconforming individuals of all ages, published and unpublished, are encouraged to contribute to Stalled. We welcome submissions of all types: stories, poems, photos, art pieces; however you feel most comfortable expressing your personal experiences around sex-segregated spaces. Submissions should be non-fiction and based on actual experience. However, we respect the author’s prerogative to maintain characters’ anonymity.

*We recognize these descriptions are not exhaustive and are not intended to be restrictive.  We encourage and hope to engage a broad range of experiences and identities.

Submission Instructions:
• Submissions should be sent via e-mail to stalled.the.book@gmail.com.
• Written submissions should be 1500 words or less, and submitted as a .doc or .docx file with pages numbered. Illustrations should be submitted in jpeg format.

• You may submit up to 2 different pieces of work.
• We welcome both published and unpublished authors; however, if the piece you’re submitting has been published, please note where and when.
• In your cover email, please include Author’s Name, Pen Name (if applicable), Title of Submission, email address, and a brief Bio (150 words or less).

Submissions will be accepted throughout the year. The final deadline is December 31, 2010 (11:59:59 pm EST). All submissions will be responded to by the end of April 2011. Early submissions are encouraged.

Good Vibrations was kind enough to send a copy of one of Courtney Trouble’s films to review — Seven Minutes in Heaven: Coming Out.

Basically, think queer reality porn, similar to Tristan Taormino’s Chemistry, where a bunch of queer people are put together in a room, and get to choose who to have sex with, and what type of sex to have. And then the cameras record it. Poof.

Some of my favorite performers are in this, including Tina Horn, Carson, and Puck Goodfellow, and a bevy of newcomers I enjoyed, like Sophia St. James and Sarah Lee Sinful.

The concept, I absolutely love.  They play games like Seven Minutes in Heaven, Truth or Dare, and Spin the Bottle.  I love how it reminds me of a pervy high school party that ends with all sorts of hot raunchy play.

The sex? It’s good.  I like some scenes more than others (Carson and Puck brought a lot of awesome fuckery to their scenes, and Tina Horn spanks an ass like no one else), but others I found to be a bit to slow for me.  I like more “balls to the wall” fucking, and less of the romance (with the exception of real life couples, where I find the kissing to be incredibly hot). However, I know a lot of people who really like more of the interactive parts of porn, and I think this would actually be a great movie for people wanting to try a newer type of the “girl on girl” genre (actually, a few of the stars had never had sex with a woman/queer sex before this shoot, so it’s actually kind of really cool to get to see their first time trying news things).

While much queer porn is geared towards a specifically queer audience, I feel that this particular film would be great for people of all identities. It’s hot dyke porn, but has some similarities with the more mainstream girl-on-girl that a feel many a straight guy would enjoy watching it as much as a hetero couple, or a gaggle of queers. It really appeals to a wider variety of audiences, and I love that about this film.  I’d recommend this to most people, and right now, it’s on sale, so grab this chance to get even more affordable awesome sex positive porn before the opportunity passes you by!

Click here to get your very own copy of Seven Minutes in Heaven.

-Essin’ Em

Photo Credit: Hawksdream

A cage, a cane, heels, my favorite red bra and a short skirt…

Does much more really need to be said?

Happy Half Nekkid Thursday!

-Essin’ Em

Oh, looky here. Another post on communication. Bet you’re sick of it now, right?

But it’s SO BLOODY IMPORTANT.

Q and I have gone through a lot these past few months.  My surgery (and the sleep apena that I had the surgery to fix). Moving to AZ. Starting her new job. Me looking for a job while battling depression at not having a job or friends.

The only reason we haven’t broken, that we haven’t fallen apart, and gotten filed with resentment, frustration, anger, hatred, etc is because of communication.

Every day is an exercise in communication, from sitting on the couch afterwork checking in with one another, to sitting in my car in the parking lot at Target last Friday night, with dual emotional break downs as we sat there crying and talking and asking one another how we would support one another. 

We got thrown in to this experience in AZ together.  Back in CO, we’d talked about moving in together, perhaps in January/February of 2010. We were going to have a plan about introducing the cats together. We were going to have a discussion about how to meld our very different cleaning/living styles, and do charts, and divide up chores, etc.  But when Q got the job here, we just picked up and left (3 weeks after my surgery) and moved in together, cats and all.

Without all the planning we had, well, planned on, is it any wonder that there have been some growing pains? She’s very tidy, I’m not. But I’m OCD about things like book/DVD titles, what clothes go in what drawers. Who does the cat litter, since we’ve had to had a 4th box and change brands multiple times? Who does the laundry? What about making dinner and cleaning it up? Do we eat at the dining room table, or sitting on the couch by the coffee table? When she works late multiple nights in a week, how do I combat feeling lonely? How does she take care of things when I travel alone?

All these and more have had to be discuss. Sometimes, in such a relaxed “hey, can we talk about this” way, and sometimes in a highly emotionally charged “I’m not feeling supported here – let me tell you why?” way. Is it sometimes draining to communicate so damn much? Yes.  But we don’t fight. Disagree sometimes, oh yes, but we don’t fight.

Like I tell people, dental dams aren’t always fun, but an STI in my mouth is less fun….communication isn’t always a picnic, but full scale fights and breaking up is much worse.

So take some time to actually talk to your partner(s) — don’t always let things go if it bothers you, because it will build up over time and bother you.  On that same note, it’s also really good to communicate happiness with your partner…it’s ok to just tell someone how wonderful they are an how much you appreciate them.

You’ll have to forgive me for putting up eye candy from Cocksexual two weeks in a row, but how can you blame me? This free gallery of pictures of Maya, an adorable skater boi, was stunning and fun. Funning, perhaps! I love the smile, the humor, and of course, the flame boxers. Did you really want me to wait to share this? Yeah, didn’t think so!

Avenue Q is a witty commentary on PC-ness, racism, homophobia, sexism and discrimination in our society, very tongue in cheek.  It’s one of my favorite musicals.

Funny, then, isn’t it, that I experienced such egregious discrimination and ass-hattery while attending this show.

In case you weren’t aware, I am disabled.  I walk with a cane sometimes, sometimes not, but I am in pain at some level every single day of my life.

We walked in, tickets in hand, asked the usher where to go, and he told us “that way to the stairs.” My friend asked where the elevator was, and he sneered at us, possibly thinking “a couple of fat girls…pshaw.  Don’t want to take the stairs…too bad.”  All he said was “no elevator, stairs are that way.”

Thinking I had misheard (I mean, this was a national tour of Avenue Q, not some local rep putting in on in a warehouse turned brilliant theatre), I asked him politely “so, if one is disabled, how might they avoid the three sets of steep stairs to get to their seat?”

“You should have bought the disabled tickets.” I was stunned. Ok, fine. Maybe I should have called Q to remind her to ask for something accessible. However, I can walk down one or two stairs, and every large theatre I have ever been in (a lot) has had elevators to the balcony level.

“Ok, well, we bought the tickets we could afford, on the balcony. Would the disabled tickets at the orchestra level have been the same price as the cheaper tickets?”

“No, you would have had to pay orchestra prices. Now, can you just get inside?”

Again, astounded, thought I shouldn’t have been, by his rudeness, it took me a second to move. Able-ist and classist.  $15 tickets versus $100+ tickets.  Clearly, if you’re a cripple, you have money to blow, right?

So I walked inside.  And up three flights of stairs, crying just a little as I got to the top.  I hate being disabled, but what it 10 times worse is when other people blame you for who you are (same thing can be said for different races, genders, orientations, etc).  I wanted to go to the restroom at intermission, but if I’d walked down those 3 flights of stairs to pee, I would have kept on walking out of the theatre.

Upon my walk, I had one or two people walk around me (as I was moving very slowly on the handrail), remarking that it was “hard walk” and “not very handicap friendly, huh?” but no one stopped to ask for help. No one was outraged at this theatre, large as it was, being incredibly inaccessible.

I will never go there again. Our friend said something about “next time, we’ll get the accessible seats.”  I think I stunned her with my vehemence when I said that I would never ever return here again.  She didn’t get it. She didn’t get how small and gross and much of a failure at life they had made me feel. She didn’t get that I wanted to go home and curl up in a ball and cry myself to sleep.

I couldn’t help but view the irony of what we were seeing.  We can sing about how everyone is a little bit racist, but able-sim still runs rampant and is almost never discussed.

Next time I want to see a big show, I’ll wait till it comes to the Buell in Denver. They’re incredibly sweet and accessible, even if you don’t tell them till the day of.

-Essin’ Em

I love sex toys.  It’s not a secret.  I mean, come on, I work at Fascinations. I love toys.

I also love watching how other people use toys.

One of the things I love most is watching how other people interacting with their cocks. Now, when I say this, I mean packing cocks, harnessed cocks, or even using cocks to fuck themselves.  Don’t forget, masturbation is sex too, and is pretty freaking awesome!

I love the word cock. I think it goes so nicely with CUNT. COCK AND CUNT. I could just scream them from the rooftops…and did so at some point in college. Cock to me, like cunt, holds power. And when I see someone strapped on, or pulling a packer out of their jeans, or fucking themselves into oblivion with a silicone cock (yes, I do discriminate against cocks based on material), I just get so turned on. It’s the reclaimation of the cock.

That said, I have nothing against flesh and blood cocks/pensises/dicks, etc.  But the fact that people who are not born with traditional cocks can strap it up, pack it in, or give it to themselves without a second thought of slamming the cocks in a drawer and walking away at the end of the day? That to me is an epic turn on. It’s sexual power that can be turned on or off. I feel instantly more powerful when I have a silicone cock strapped to me, and sucking my partner’s strapped on cock is infinitely hotter and sexier to me than any blow jobs on cisgender men were in the past (and let me tell you, I gave a lot of blow jobs, and I enjoyed them). I like that it provides options; “Oh, well, I can fuck you with my cock, or be fucked in my cunt, or fuck you in the ass, or the cunt, or let you fuck me in the cunt.”  It’s like a choose your own adventure of cock-y goodness!

And that, dear readers, is why, as Q would say, “I lik-a the cock!”

This post is part of the March of Cocks, sponsored by Furry Girl and her latest porn creation, Cocksexual.  I even have a piece up on Cocksexual about Femme Cock. As part of this month o’ cockyness, she’s allowing me to give away a ONE MONTH MEMBERSHIP to Cocksexual. That’s right, you can get pictures and video of some of my favorites (Jiz Lee, Miss Calico, Roxxie, Kimberlee Cline, Syd Blakovich, Bella Vendetta and more!) rocking out with their cocks out.

How to enter?

Comment here. Tell me your cock’s name (silicone, flesh or otherwise), and if it was a superhero, what your cock’s superpower would be.  That’s all. Oh so easy!

Deadline? March 31st 11:59 pm MST.  Make sure to enter before the March of the Cocks marches past!

-Essin’ Em