Nov 13 2008
Image of Catalina by AlteredAperture.com
Here’s another HNT for you — I’m on my way to NYC today for the Sex Blogger Calendar Launch Party. I hope to see you there tomorrow!! If you can’t make it, be sure to buy your copy. I’ve had a sneak peek and it’s absolutely divine!
Nov 12 2008
Tomorrow I leave for NYC for the 2009 Sex Blogger Calendar Launch Party and to hang out with some of the coolest women in the country for the weekend! I’m unbelievably excited. I’m going to somehow manage to get to Urban Gypsy’s office in Manhattan and then go home with her for our pre-party party with Beautiful Rebecca. I’m in Sapphic heaven!
As if it weren’t enough that I plan to snuggle up right between these ungodly sexy women, Tess has been teasing me with her Njoy Eleven. Since the moment I saw her review of the Njoy Eleven here on BestSexBloggers.com, I’ve wanted to try it out. See for yourself, and you’ll know why. Go ahead, click the review and it will open in a new window.
Now you may actually have thought to yourself, “Ick, you’re going to use someone else’s sex toys?” I thought that myself, and then Tess pointed out, “It’s stainless steel - easy to sterilize.” Oh, they are genius at Njoy! Now the question is, how do we turn it into a competition and what is the prize for she who can take the Eleven? Photographic evidence may be necessary.
I’ll let you know how it comes (ya, I know, but I had to).
Nov 11 2008
They are 12 of NYC’s sexiest women! They are the official pin-up girls of the 2009 Sex Blogger Calendar. Curious who is who? Have you ever wondered what some of our very own Best Sex Bloggers look like? I won’t give it away, but Em and Lo did! Click on the image to go to Em and Lo’s Daily Bedpost interview with our own Urban Gypsy and learn a little about these sultry sex vixens, but before you do, try to guess who is who. Your choices are:
Audacia Ray is a new media professional whose medium is sex. Over the past seven years, she has been a researcher and curator at the Museum of Sex, blogger for sites like Fleshbot and Naked City, author of the book Naked on the Internet, director of the award-winning porn film The Bi Apple, executive editor of $pread magazine, and adjunct professor at Rutgers University. She is also the vice president of Sex Work Awareness, the organization that will benefit from this calendar’s fundraising efforts. Her video podcast lives at LiveGirlReview.com and her blog WakingVixen turns five years old in 2009.
Desiree is a brainy, sexy, foodie, geeky, writer chick from New York who has always had an inclination toward the naughty. Sex is her absolute favorite topic of conversation and has been since way before she had any business conversing on the subject (starting at about age 2). She never backs down from a Scrabble challenge and once scored seventy six points with the word ‘clitoris’. She blogs about sex and culture and life at Baser Instincts
One fateful day, for better or worse, Diva, looking online for a momentary escape from her household chores, stumbled upon sex blogs. Her life hasn’t been the same since. Meeting up with a notoriously perverted blogger triggered a resurgence of sexuality frozen under layers of domesticity and monotony. She started Debauched Domestic Diva to record her new experiences and the conflicting emotions her weekly trips to New York City spurred. Writing her blog, slowly becoming a technical guru and being immersed in a new uber-cool circle of friends has given Diva the spark she was searching for that auspicious day.
Sociologist, blogger, and activist, Elizabeth Wood co-founded Sex In The Public Square as a place for academics, activists and people just plain interested in sex to talk about the intersections of sexuality and society. Dr. Wood writes about sex work, social justice, human rights, and is developing the idea of the “sex commons,” the space created by the increasing number of web sites and blogs where people can share sexual knowledge and expand sexual freedom.
Jamye Waxman, M.Ed is a writer, author, director, producer, host and sex-positive feminist. She is the former sex advice columnist for Playgirl Magazine, the author of “Getting Off: A Woman’s Guide to Masturbation” and the creator of the Personal Touch Video Series for Adam and Eve Pictures. Jamye has been dubbed the “nexxxt generation of sex educator” by wired.com and she is the President of Feminists for Free Expression.
Lux Alptraum serves as Editor of Fleshbot, Gawker Media’s blog about porn,sex, and the web, and Editor of Boinkology. Career highlights include founding and running That Strange Girl (the first altporn site to feature both male and female models), interning at Nerve, and keeping the masses educated about sex for the past ten years. Her writing has appeared in Time Out New York, Best Sex Writing 2008, and GOOD Magazine.
Having been trapped in a painfully awkward phase since, well, forever, with little more than one measly, anonymous kiss under her belt, Mariella’s gift to herself for that pivotal 21st birthday wasn’t the customary forty of Heineken, but the services of a professional pervert. With that pesky virginity thing taken care of, she served a brief stint in Nailing-Everything-That-Moves Land, but ultimately decided to dabble in debauchery on a significantly smaller scale. When she’s not getting lost in the subway or the swirling language of Faulkner, she’s stumbling blindly through basic human interaction, blogging every step of the way.
Rachel Kramer Bussel is a writer, editor, blogger, and reading series host. She has edited over 20 erotica anthologies, including Tasting Him, Tasting Her, Spanked, Rubber Sex, Dirty Girls, Crossdressing, and the non-fiction Best Sex Writing 2008 and 2009. She is Senior Editor at Penthouse Variations, hosts In The Flesh Reading Series, and is a former sex columnist for The Village Voice. She blogs at Lusty Lady and Cupcakes Take The Cake.
Marie “Riese” Lyn Bernard is a freelance video-maker, journalist, blogger, vlogger, fictionist, copywriter, essayist, re-capper, and aspiring cyber-performance artist based in New York City. She blogs at “This Girl Called Automatic Win” and recaps homo-sexy television at “Automatic Straddle” and for “The L Word Online.” Her work has appeared in Marie Claire, Curve, OurChart, Nerve.com, Clean Sheets and Conversely as well as books including The Bigger the Better, the Tighter the Sweater: 21 Funny Women On Beauty, Body Image, and Other Hazards of Being Female, Dirty Girls, Best Women’s Erotica 2005, Best American Erotica 2007 and the Lambda Literary Award-winning Erotic Interludes 2: Stolen Moments.
Sinclair Sexsmith is a chivalrous kinky writer, queer butch top, and feminist sex educator in New York City. He runs Sugarbutch Chronicles, a personal writing exploration of sex, gender, and relationships, and attempts to celebrate queer theory, sexuality, gender, and culture in ways that are expansive rather than restrictive, liberating rather than limiting. Mr. Sexsmith has degrees in both creative writing and gender studies, and his poetry and erotica has been published in various places, including Best Lesbian Erotica.
Tess may be a New Yorker but she’s really a gypsy at heart. Albeit a gypsy who sees herself frolicking through the forest clad in garments from the season Givenchy was high on the peasant aesthetic, nimbly avoiding stray branches and skipping over rivulets while kicking up her Prada brown suede stilettos. Tess is truly the embodiment of an Urban Gypsy, the title of the blog where she writes dark and moody D/s themed erotica, reviews sex toys, shows off her generous cleavage and generally reveals too much information. Several of Tess’ oh-so-wrong-but-oh-so-right fantasies are scheduled to be published in upcoming erotica anthologies.
Twanna A. Hines is a New York-based writer, editor, blogger and sexpot. Her dating commentary has been heard on NPR, and details about her rendezvous have been printed in Glamour magazine. She has written about sex, dating, relationships, men, pop culture and celebrities for Huffington Post, Lifetime, Nerve, Gen Art, Fast Company and others. AOL placed her site, FUNKYBROWNCHICK.com, on their Black Voices list of best blogs. Twanna’s sites have also been mentioned in New York magazine and online at Gawker Media, EbonyJet, Vibe and elsewhere. She speaks English and Dutch fluently. Get down with the funky brown at Funky Brown Chick.
So how did you do? Did you guess 10/12 correctly? 8/12? I’m curious, leave a comment, if you would! And remember, when you buy a calendar, not only do you get twelve months of pin-up sexy, you are actually helping to support the Sex Worker Awareness project that was founded by a group of sex workers and their allies who, after working with $pread Magazine for several years, saw a need for deeper support and advocacy than a magazine can offer. The organization was created around the core belief that all sex workers have a right to self-determination; to choose how they make a living and what they do with their bodies.j
It’s a win-win in my book! Something for me to put in my office and a way to contribute to my CommUNITY. If you’re in NYC on November 14th (that’s in just a few days!) then plan to make an appearance at the party. You can meet me (oh ya, and the pin-ups) and the first 100 to arrive have awesome gift bags. I know, because I’ve somehow volunteered to help put them together and there is some amazing stuff in there!
Nov 11 2008
I’m not a fan of water-based lube. There, I said it. I just haven’t found one that I like that doesn’t feel sticky and gooey. I’m sure they’re out there, but I love that satiny feel of silicone lube. The downside, I own a lot of silicone toys and you aren’t supposed to use a silicone-based lube with your silicone toys. I’m no chemist, don’t ask me why not, but I do know the golden toy rule: Silicone Toys Need Water-Based Lube.
But like all rules, there is an exception. Universal Lube, sold by VibeReview.com, is a silicone based lube that is safe to use with silicone toys. Again, if I were a chemist, I would be a rich chemist, not a sex blogger, so I have no idea what it is that makes Universal Lube special, but it is!
Of course, lube isn’t just for slicking up my sex toys — we’ve tried this lube in just about every sexual situation you can imagine. It is a good lube for anal sex, because it is a nice thick lube that doesn’t dissipate in 20 seconds. It’s a good lube for a sexy hand job, without getting all sticky and gummy. And though I usually am soaking wet from foreplay, there are times when I’ve needed a little help and grabbed the bottle of Universal Lube from my toy drawer to put a little on my fingers and play with myself. It’s silky. I like it. A little goes a long way!! I still have quite a bit left in the bottle and I’ve been using it for a couple of months.
My only complaint about silicone lubes, and this applies to silicone lube in general, not just Universal Lube, is that it’s really difficult to get rid of the slickery feeling when you’re done. Still, it’s worth it. I’ll take slickery over gummy any day!
Nov 08 2008
Image from PostSecret.com
Wow, I’m down to two items, which I’ve already tested thoroughly and just have to write about: The Under The Bed Restraint System and the Universal Lube. Time for a new wishlist! I thought I’d share here with you what I put on my list. Who knows, maybe you’ll see something that will tickle your fancy (pun intended)!
The Lava Spot: I want this waterproof vibe to take in the bathtub with me! I hear they are fantastic.
Kama Sutra’s Raspberry Kiss: So Kama Sutra products might seem a little vanilla for a girl like me, but like every other woman in the world, I like a little romantic night now and then — if it turns into filthy, dirty sex then all the better - but it’s nice to start with romance sometimes. I think of Kama Sutra and Romance in the same sentence.
The Aneros Prostate Massager: Obviously not for use on myself, but on Marky, who has wanted to try this product for a long time. We’ve tried similar products, but I understand that nothing compares to the Aneros.
The Curve: I love a good dildo - nothing crazy, doesn’t need to have 8 speeds and variations in pulse - a simple dildo will do. I hear goooooood things about this one from my friends and I want to try it!!
The Liv and The Gigi: It is my goal to own one of everything made by Lelo.com! I have tried the Lily and the Luna Beads, but I have to have The Liv and The Gigi!!
Share: This is the rival to the Feeldoe. I have a Feeldoe and I’d really like to compare the two. I’m not convinced that the Feeldoe is the best product out there - though it might be - I have to know for sure!
So what’s on your wishlist? The holidays (and my birthday!!!!!) are just around the corner and November is a great time to buy sex toys as a gift because 40% of every purchase you make through me is going to the Butterfly Temptress Cancer Fund - so you can get off and get yourself on the good list at the same time! Ho Ho Ho (ha ha ha)
Nov 05 2008
Anybody up for an amazing clitoral and g-spot orgasm?! Now that I’ve got your attention :) I’m a day late and a dollar short. New Toy Tuesday was pre-empted for election coverage. We now return you to your kinky program already in progress…
The We-Vibe is a fantastic little invention! It looks like a little clamp - one end slides nicely inside and against your g-spot while the other end vibrates your clitoris on the outside. The result? Intense G-spot and clitoral orgasmic bliss!! It’s different than any other vibe/dildo I own, but in a GOOD way!
Forget about batteries and cords - the We-Vibe has its own charger and you just have to reach in the drawer, unplug it and use it. Oh, and the case that comes with it keeps the drawer schmutz off of the silicone so you don’t have fuzzies and drawer fur on it when you need it! So you have a really nice, top-drawer vibe that is rechargeable and comes with its own case. Did I mention I really like the We-Vibe?!
Okay, so here’s the surprise twist I alluded to last week — the We-Vibe isn’t just for the ladies. When I get new toys I like to experiment with them and find all the ways that Marky and I can enjoy them together. While the We-Vibe is a woman’s vibe, no doubt, it is also really fun to use on men! Back at the top of this post I said that the We-Vibe looks like a little clamp, right? It’s very flexible, you can open it up and pinch it closed. So I opened it up wider, wrapped it around Marky’s balls and then brought him to orgasm by stroking his cock at the same time. According to Marky, the We-Vibe is perfect!! The two ends vibrating together around his balls gave him an intense (dare I say copious) orgasm. Who knew?! I’m telling you, if there’s a way to get off, we’ll find it!
So there you have it folks. I love the We-Vibe. It does exactly what it’s supposed to - a clitoral/g-spot orgasm is the best! I’ve only experienced it before with the Hitachi and the Gspot attachment as I rested the Hitachi against my clit - but that’s a little intense. The We-Vibe is especially designed for just the right spots and I could kiss the designer of this little magic toy right on the lips!
Still looking for a reason to order your We-Vibe today? I have a good one! Because if you order through me, I’m donating all of my commission in November to be doubled by VibeReview.com and sent to the Butterfly Temptress Cancer Fund. So not only are you making a smart purchase, but you’re making a difference for one very ill woman!
Thanks again, to VibeReview.com for sending me great products to test out and report on, but especially for helping The Butterfly Temptress Cancer Fund by encouraging affiliates to donate their commissions. In times like these, it’s difficult enough to pay your own mortgage (in my case, rent) so to be able to help without it cutting into my pocketbook is a fantastic way to raise money for such an important cause! If you aren’t already an affiliate for VibeReview.com, get your fanny over there and sign up! I’ve been working with them now for about a year and I have only good things to say about their entire company! Just ask me.
Nov 04 2008
I have been invited to be a speaker at a kink event. This is really, really WIN, and seems to be happening more frequently, which is SUPER cool.
This one is in Colorado. It is called Denver Bound. It is a smaller event, and they have an interesting setup. They have a few people come and do a very intensive weekend, 4-5 classes each over the 3 day period.
Last year, it was 4 rope bondage rigger types.
Um….yeah.
You can see where I am going with this.
You see, I’m not a “rope bondage teacher.”
I checked, and yes, it is a rope-bondage intensive. I asked the organizer if he was sure he was asking the right person? He said emphatically yes.
But what the fuck do I know about rope bondage?
Dammit Jim, I’m a submissive, not a rope rigger!
Most of the time, we’re props.
Yep. You'll need P-L-E-N-T-Y of rope.
I have certainly demoed in rope bondage classes. But not all that often, because the desire to see fat girls tied up isn’t high.
Unless the class is about tying up fat girls.
As I thought about what I might have to say about rope from my perspective… that being the bottom side.
I remembered that my first glimmer of a desire to, and a possible capacity for teaching in the Kink community was when I was bottoming during a rope demo. There I was, one leg tied behind me, semi-suspended in a rope harness, in a rumpled dishabille from all of the hemp rope. I was grooving — blissed out and high on hemp in a way that doesn’t take any smoking and sure enough has nothing to do with THC.
Someone asked my Trainer, who was teaching, if it was OK to ask me a question. He said yes, it was OK.
So there I was with about the ball of one foot on the floor, arms behind my back, half lost in the haze and smoky head-trip of rope bondage, talking about what that was like.
It would sound impossible to be able to be coherent in one of the least conducive situations imaginable: tied up and turned on and mostly naked in front of a classroom full of attentive witnesses.
This is where a lifetime mad acting skillz is really an amazing tool, yo.
The “me” in bondage became the character I was dissecting. The “me” who remains present was able to do a character breakdown, and “interview” the sub-spacey Mollena.
I talked about how much the process of losing control incrementally can be very arousing and also scary. About how I had, even in the year since I’d been in Service to this particular Dominant, developed quite an affinity for rope bondage and hemp rope in particular. To the point where even the smell of a well-conditioned hank of hemp heats me up…just a little. Just enough.
I talked a lot. Eventually I was gagged, to stem the tide of increasingly breathy babbling.
Shit happens.
So, yeah. What DO bottoms have to say about rope bondage?
As it turns out, quite a bit.
I immediately came up with one topic: “Beautiful Victim: Negotiating, Communicating and Illuminating your Submission.” It would be around self-expression for bottoms, and help for tops and dominants in eliciting those wonderful connections and reactions that so many crave. OK, cool!
I thought also a class that taught about warm-up, processing and cool down, on a physical level, would be great.
I chatted a bit yesterday with a friend who brainstormed with me on another angle: that of a whole “From the Bottom:” series of classes. A discussion of and exploration into why bottoms enjoy rope bondage, what happens emotionally when you are going into, coming out of, and processing afterwards, some of the reasons people love or avoid it, etc.
Come to think of it, this is really an awesome kind of challenge to which I gotta step up :-)
Never underestimate the power of a submissive. NEVER.
Nov 02 2008
I was reminded of an old lover today. A memory as convoluted, bittersweet and difficult as any in my life to date.
Then the larger question of BDSM reportage came to mind.
Usually, one does ask the person about whom you are writing if they are OK with you writing about them. Usually, they are OK.
I have had several situations where people were NOT OK with my writing about our encounters.
Part of me is miffed by this, and not only because I am a blabbermouth. Because, strangely enough, I am very capable of shutting the fuck up.
But as a writer, when I feel inspired to write, I loathe the idea of being squelched.
I have had several variations on external censorship. I have dealt with them in various ways. I am mercurial and strangely unpredictable, even to my own mind, on this issue
I had one person nonplussed about my writing about and making an example of our scene in my curriculum when I taught classes about Taboo / Extreme Edge Play. This may well have been because this was a textbook example of how to not manage a scene that has derailed.
To be fair, missteps occurred on everyone’s part, and I do not understate my role in the situation. But they weren’t too thrilled, especially as a public Leather Community figure, to have that less-than-optimal situation live on.
After some discussion, I made it clear my intent was not to damage, but to help other folks learn from those that have gone before and paved the Way Of “Whoops!” Plus, the versions that were in circulation only made the situation even grimmer than the reality, so getting it from the horse’s mouth is only going to serve to put the period on the end of those speculations.
I had a profound moment of Zen when, years after the fact, a former lover asked me to remove references to him from my online writings because he was upset that such explicit materials referenced him online.
Though I had received permission, in the past, to tell that story in the course of my solo show, a change in his level of notoriety prompted him to become indignant that such intimate details of his sexual appetites were searchable online. This is fucking galling. Kind of like Jesus saying to John the Baptist “Dude, yeah, I am totally cool with you, but could you refrain from talking about when you dunked me that one time? Thanks!”
He was my gateway drug to kink, the story is fantastical and beautiful…and he is cranky abut that.
On the one hand, I understand, and can empathize. I mean, come on. Certainly, someone gushing over your sexual prowess, the magnificence of your penis, the thoroughness of your hotness and how generally amazing and brilliant you are, in explicit terms, is a dangerous thing.
I tried to explain that, frankly, the djinni is out of the flask and, thanks to Google and the WayBack, nothing can ever be erased.
I also gently pointed out that he never asked me if it was OK to write half an album about me, and furthermore to actually use my fucking name for one of his songs…on not one but two of his records…and if he was concerned about people making the connection, he well should have considered that first. (Oh, if you wanna hear it, you can do that here. You can do it for free. Save the ninety-nine cents, dear reader.)
It hardly helps that this extended remix situation is one of the Obsessions Of My Lifetimes.
No, that isn’t a typo…I’m a Hindu-esque kid.
I have also had a preemptive strike levied against my writing. A man with whom I was (very briefly) involved specifically insisted I not write about our encounter, as it might muddy the waters with someone he was in the process of wooing, and that wasn’t OK.
Douchetastic? Yep.
THAT situation was cunningly crafted by the very Gods to take me out at the knees, and sucked in several ways. I wish I’d had the ovaries at the time to hash that one out, but instead my submissive reflex kicked in, to my detriment, and I just caved to the command.
It is a very odd sensation to feel like your own life and the means by which you express that to the world is possibly offensive, probably unacceptable, certainly cumbersome, often unwelcome.
Whatever.
Really, the main intent I have, in my life and in my writings, is to illuminate. To talk through my past, my kink, my life and loves and the messy, messy beautiful and delicious kaleidoscope through which I see everything. To use my own voice, my own light, to refract the gloom of the quotidian through my own prism, my fresh perspective.
I am not sure when speaking my piece, in my way, became such a minefield.
And it is very tough to remain strong, loud and proud when a miasma of shame, reluctance, fear and regret wraps about the ankles, creeps up goosebumped arms and condenses sorrow within your ears.
Peace.
Oct 31 2008
We’re on the eighth part of Life. Love. Cancer. It seems odd to say it, but I’m kind of sad that we’re at this part already. Writing these posts has helped me in ways I hadn’t even realized.
They have been challenging but in a good way. Many times I have struggled and wondered where I would go with each installment, often to the point of tears. Now I realize that the tears weren’t tears of frustration, but my way of coming to terms with my diagnosis.
I believed I had dealt with all of it. In my heart of hearts I didn’t think there was anything left to confront. Well, anything short of death itself. I see now that I still had a lot of anger and frustration to work out. Writing this series has helped me to find a sort of internal peace that works well with my determination to not give up hope.
Before all of this, hope was just a word on a page. With every appointment, every scan, I sank deeper into the acceptance. I wrote letters and planned holidays that were over the top. Plans that I never had the energy to carry out, but the plans were there just the same. I focused all my energies on the end because that’s what I was told to do.
But it wasn’t me. I hated the feeling of waking up every day and going through the motions. I wasn’t living. I was waiting to die.
Waiting.
To die.
I started blogging about all the things that were happening and the response was overwhelming. People left comments and sent positive thoughts my way. They sent emails and offered encouragement. Perfect strangers brought to life a small glimmer of hope.
Today I write this and I know that I have made peace with the fact that I might die. I might die. My oncologists and varied physicians aren’t God. They do what they know to do in the best way they know how to do it. They give facts based on tests and labs and co-morbidities. I know the odds are against me. I know I might die.
The thing is, I also might live.
All the prayers, all the words of encouragement, and all the healing vibes might be just the thing to lead me to a miracle. I know that I don’t deserve one more than anyone else. There is nothing extraordinary about me that sets me apart from all the other people in the world who are fighting for their lives. I’m a girl in a world full of sadness and strife, in a world full of struggle and unfairness.
Am I wrong to hope? Is it selfish of me to watch my little girls and hope against all hope that I will beat the odds, that I’ll be there when they grow up? Maybe so; but holding them close and listening to them laugh only fuels the fire, the will and the desire to come through this on the other side.
Oct 28 2008
Click the Heart To Help The Butterfly Temptress
Never fear! I have more toys to review and report on, in fact I was planning to write about the We-Vibe today, which has an interesting twist to it, but I postponed it until next week to talk about VibeReview.com and The Butterfly Temptress Cancer Fund.
You see, recently it came to my attention that one of my friends was about to be cut off of her cancer treatments and pain management program because of she falls into that gap of making too much for the government to help and not making enough/underinsured to pay the medical bills that are pouring in as a result of chemotherapy and radiation treatment for her stage IV cervical cancer that has spread throughout her system. The thought of denying treatment and pain medication to a human being diagnosed with cancer is so incomprehensible to me - it’s inhumane. What kind of a country do we live in?!
Her only choice is to turn to her CommUNITY, my CommUNITY, your CommUNITY for help. Times are tough though and even people who want to donate don’t have it. I’m one of them. You might be, too. You can still help, though!
I contacted my friends at VibeReview.com to see if there was any way that they could help. They are a small company, but were just as impassioned as I was to do what they could do. On top of a financial sponsorship for part of the series, Life.Love.Cancer, on BestSexBloggers.com, VibeReview has agreed to allow affiliates to join in the fight. Now VibeReview.com affiliates can choose to donate their November commissions to The Butterfly Temptress Cancer Fund. VibeReview.com has agreed to double the amount and donate it to The Butterfly Temptress Cancer Fund.
If you are already a VibeReview.com affiliate, simply check the box on the registration page and VibeReview will take care of the rest. If you are not a VibeReview.com affiliate and you’d like to help, please do sign up. It’s fast, it’s easy, making links is as simple as click, copy, paste, and heck, after the fundraiser you could earn 20% of anything someone buys as a result of clicking from your link. It’s not going to feed your family, necessarily, but it will add up and you can buy that fabulous pair of shoes you know you want but would never buy unless you had extra money.
I encourage you to get involved - in any way you can - spread the word, join up, click the box, and make a real difference. It’s something we all say we want to do - now is the time to do it. We can make a difference. If you in a position to donate money directly to the Butterfly Temptress Cancer Fund, you can do so directly through her paypal link on my page or on TheButterflyTemptress.com.
Special Thanks to VibeReview.com for choosing compassion over profit. They truly are my first choice when it comes to online toy stores. I’ve worked with them all, and while some are good, there is a reason I exclusively promote VibeReview.com and this solidifies that exclusive relationship I have with them. When I say Catalina loves VibeReview.com, I’m 100% sincere.
Oct 25 2008
Five days ago, 8 lesbian bloggers set out on a nice little grassroots netroots effort to raise money against Proposition 8, the ballot initiative that seeks to eliminate the right of same-sex couples to marry in the State of California.
Grace the Spot, Lori Hahn, Kelly at The Lesbian Lifestyle, Dorothy Surrenders, Pam’s House Blend, Riese, Renee at Lesbiatopia, and me, Sugarbutch Chronicles, have been posting (in some cases excessively) about Proposition 8 and about gay marriage.
What happened next exceeded our expectations. Donations started rolling in by the thousands of dollars per day. Less than three full days into the campaign, the eight bloggers against Prop 8 reached our initial goal of $8,000. BUT WE’RE NOT STOPPING. Let’s see how far we can take this. Let’s see how much we can get. Let’s find out just how much it’s going to take to defeat this Proposition of hate and bigotry.
Vote NO on Proposition 8!
I don’t know about you, but I like a little politics with my sex. Intellectual stimulation gets me hot. A little activism, a little social change, a little acknowledgment of hierarchical oppression systems and the marginalization of certain groups - someone talking about the ways they are going to change the world will instantly turn me on.
Here at Best Sex Bloggers we mostly talk about who we fuck, who we connect with physically, which often leads to who we connect with emotionally, with whom we want to spend time, build homes, and raise families.
Sex and relationships are intertwined - there’s just no way to get around it. Even if it we aren’t talking about an exclusive, monogamous relationship full of high expectations of roles or time, we are still in a relationship of some sort with the person we are fucking.
And hey, the government likes it when we’re in these relationships. In fact, the government gives us certain rights and privileges to make it easier on us to live our lives. Work hard, contribute to the economy, raise our families, be a productive member of society – governments know that we are better for our nation-state when we have happy, stable, home lives.
(You know where I’m going with this, don’t you.)
But some of us enter into relationships that are deemed as less-than. Not “real.” Not as valid. You know what I mean. I’m sure many of the writers, contributors, and readers here at BSB have experienced some sort of discrimination based on the type of relationship you are in – be it a triad, an open marriage, a master/slave D/s contract, or a relationship with someone of the same sex or gender.
The whole system of marriage and the equation of government+state=love needs revamping – I am the first to hold picket signs in that rally. There isn’t enough activism around kink or poly relationships, and the issue of gay marriage is largely about normalization, I know. It is problematic.
But meanwhile, homosexual relationships need to be legitimized. Perhaps it will, as conservatives fear, be a gateway ruling that will lead to more openness about marriage and relationships in the future. I sure hope so – relationship orientation is just as interesting, complicated, and necessary to empower as sexual orientation, and we’ve got a long way to go on that activism still.
So. What can you do?
There are some serious propositions & amendments on the ballot in various states coming up in this election. Even if you aren’t voting in those states, I urge you to repost these links, educate yourself, register to vote, ask all your friends and family and acquaintances and colleagues and strangers in the elevator if they are registered to vote, get up off your ass and out of your whips and chains and VOTE dammit on November 4th.
Also vote No on Amendment 2 in Florida, No on Proposition 102 in Arizona , No on Question 1 in Connecticut, and No on Act 1 in Arkansas.
Oct 23 2008
Editor’s Note: This is part of a ten-part series written by The Butterfly Temptress.
For information on how you can help, please the introductory post or go directly to the http://thebutterflytemptress.com.
Click to read Life.Love.Cancer: Part 1
Click to read Life.Love.Cancer: Part II
Click to read Life.Love.Cancer: Part III
Click to read Life.Love.Cancer: Part IV
Click to read Life.Love.Cancer: Part V
I wrote it but it seems kind of silly. Still, it came from the heart, so I wanted to share it with those of you who are following Life. Love. Cancer.
Dear Cancer,
Let me begin by saying that I know that writing this will likely do absolutely nothing. I acknowledge that this is an exercise in futility. Still, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel damn good to be doing it anyway.
For far too long now you have had the power. You have invaded my space, my brain and my body. I’m not okay with that any more than I was okay with my biological father raping and abusing me for years. I am an independent woman with a life. I have no time nor any use for the things that you bring to the table.
I know you’re a stubborn bastard, or maybe you’re just a lazy bitch who refuses to leave because there isn’t a better gig elsewhere. However, I have news for you. This is MY life; this is MY body. I don’t want you here. I never did. No doubt this is all a little harsh to you, but if you’ll hear me out, I’m sure you will understand where I’m coming from.
You see, I’m a mother. I have two absolutely gorgeous little girls who need their Mama. You know the ones I’m talking about. Gorgeous with impish smiles and tinkling laughter that the angels themselves envy? Yeah. Those girls.
They need me. Maybe they don’t realize it yet. Maybe they don’t think they do right now but as their mother, I know that will change. And when it does, I fully expect to be here for them.
I’m also a wife. Finally, after all this time, he married me. He loves me. Sure, he’s a man and he has man tendencies but he’s MY man and he loves ME. Where I come from, that means something.
I love being married to him. For me, it’s the best thing going. No one loves me like he does. While this whole terminal routine seems to work for you, it doesn’t work for me. I don’t like it because it threatens my relationship with him. I’m not ready to have that be over yet.
So here is what I suggest-
Chemo. A whole lot of chemo. Maybe some radiation. Nuclear warfare developed just for you. I’ve asked nicely, so really, you have left me with no other choice.
I’d like to say that I’m sorry it had to end this way but I’m not. So, leave quietly. Pack what you can now because you won’t ever be welcome here again. Are we clear?
Good.
I’ll see you in remission.
Without apology,
The Butterfly Temptress
Oct 22 2008
Editor’s Note: This is part of a ten-part series written by The Butterfly Temptress.
For information on how you can help, please the introductory post or go directly to the http://thebutterflytemptress.com.
Click to read Life.Love.Cancer: Part 1
Click to read Life.Love.Cancer: Part II
Click to read Life.Love.Cancer: Part III
Click to read Life.Love.Cancer: Part IV
I’m more in love with my husband now than I ever was before. I probably didn’t know or understand just what love really was until the oncologists told me that I might not have it. I was a stupid girl living in a make-believe world, full of romance novel misunderstandings and real world consequences.
Along with being in love with my husband, I find that my attraction to him has grown to gargantuan proportions. He smiles and I see his rakish charm. He laughs and I feel that tingle somewhere deep inside. He reaches out to caress my skin or hold my face in his hands and I am taken to a place most women only dream of being with their husbands.
I know that I’m one of the lucky ones. My husband is faithful and he is strong. My husband is gentle and sweet. He is everything I waited to find. Is it any wonder that being near him, being loved by him, makes me yearn for his touch?
Sometimes we just can’t. The day has been too long and the pain is just too much. The desire is there but the energy is not. On those nights we snuggle close, skin on skin, buried beneath the comforter in our perfectly sized bed. We talk and we laugh most days. Other days, we cry. With our arms wrapped tightly and our toes tangled ever so slightly.
Then there are the times that we can’t get enough. A look across the room, a smile or a wink is all it takes to urge us on. In our bedroom, the living room, or maybe in the shower as the water begins to turn cold. The where or the why doesn’t matter as much as the when, as much as the fact that right then we need to be one, without a thought to anything other than one another.
Cancer is cruelest to those who need their families and to those in love. Who will be there to hold the hand of the man who stole my heart? Who will be there to fix his dinner, to remember his birthday, or make sweet passionate oral love to him at the end of a long work day? I can’t help but cry when it plays out in my mind.
Who will hold him close and cherish him the way I do? Who will see through his bark and beyond his bite to know that he’s hurting and in need of a hug? That’s my job, that’s what I’m here for. Cancer doesn’t listen when I scream and cry, when I try to make it understand that I’m not finished yet.
By now I know that the best thing to do would be to let him go. I should encourage him to find someone now, to help make the transition easier. Instead, I’m more selfish than ever. I want him all to myself for as long as I have left. I want his hugs and kisses, his touches and his orgasms to be mine and mine alone.
I just want everything that is him to be wrapped up in everything that is us until the end of my time.
Oct 21 2008
She waited for him in the abandoned hotel, leaning against the front desk. Her blouse fell open to reveal ample cleavage and her pencil skirt hugged her thick hips. She’d torn her fishnet stockings on the way in, stepping over the pieces of wood that had been placed across the door to keep trespassers out. She wasn’t worried about them. She had four more pair in her lingerie drawer at home.
Light filtered in through the cracks in the walls. It smelled of rain and aged wood. As she closed her eyes she inhaled the scent of something faintly floral. Once there was a rumor about the place being used as a brothel and the floral scent almost made her believe it.
Before she saw him she heard his tires on the cracked pavement out front. Any second he would appear before her and relieve her of her clothing burden. Oh she liked the clothes well enough, but what she loved was being naked before him.
As if he knew her thoughts he maneuvered over the wood that had torn her stockings and filled the space in front of her. She licked her lips and moved her eyes to his. An almost imperceptible nod and she began to undress.
She unbuttoned the first button on her blouse, then another. As she worked her way down to button number three she saw his movement out of the corner of her eye. Seconds later her blouse was ripped from her hands, buttons flying and the material hanging in tatters.
A gasp escaped her lips as he continued on. His strong hands unbuttoned her skirt then ripped it to the hem. It landed in a small pile on the floor and she stepped out of it.
The knife appeared out of nowhere and though she knew enough to not be afraid, her heart skipped a beat and her pulse raced. She felt the cold steel of the blade just beneath the swell of her breasts. He traced his way to the center of her bra and worked the tip of the blade beneath the cloth. A quick movement and her breasts were untethered, hanging, barely covered by the cups.
“Get on the counter and don’t say a word. Not one.”
His voice hypnotized her. That was what commanded her. Not the words but the tone of his deep, nearly baritone voice.
She allowed him to help her onto the counter that was covered in dust and cobwebs. Her hair cascaded behind her as her head hung freely off the other side. Her hands pulled the remnants of the bra away from her breasts then moved to pinch her nipples.
He spread her legs then lifted her feet to rest her heels on the edge of the counter. Beneath her bottom a small wet spot had started to form. His mouth met her open pussy as the blade sliced first one thigh then the other. She cried out and the sticky warmth flowed from her center and from the cuts. The blood and secretions mingled in a puddle as he licked her cunt one last time.
“Whatever you do, don’t move.” His voice insisted that she listen so she did. She barely breathed and she swore that the sound of her heartbeat filled the room.
She heard the rustle of his clothing and focused on it. The sound of his coat falling. His tie being undone. His clothes piled neatly to avoid wrinkles. His lug soled shoes landing on the floor. The sounds comforted her and reminded her that she had not yet been left alone.
His hands clamped down on her thighs and she screamed. She felt her back slide across the bar, the edge leaving scrape marks that burned when she was dragged through the puddle of blood and secretions. She screamed again just before his mouth captured hers and his cock impaled her.
Over and over he filled her. Come and blood mingled on their thighs and genitals. Cobwebs clung to her tangled mane. Their breathing slowed and he lowered her to the blanket he had spread on the floor.
With a gentle kiss on her lips he disappeared. The foyer of the old hotel was silent. Once again she had been abandoned.
*This is a work of fiction reposted from The Butterfly Temptress
Oct 21 2008
Editor’s Note: This is part of a ten-part series written by The Butterfly Temptress.
For information on how you can help, please the introductory post or go directly to the http://thebutterflytemptress.com.
Click to read Life.Love.Cancer: Part 1
Click to read Life.Love.Cancer: Part II
Click to read Life.Love.Cancer: Part III
I can’t even begin to tell you what it feels like. They deliver the news like it’s no big deal, like it happens every single day. Their eyes won’t meet yours and they glance at the clock above your head or clear the reminders from their pagers.
All you can do is watch your body from above and try to decipher the words. It’s like they’re trying to talk to you while you’re underwater in a swimming pool. You know, it’s warbled, a little muted and you want to hold up your finger to motion for them to give you just one minute to come up for air.
Except that there is no coming up. Your chest heaves and you begin to cry silent tears. There is no air to be had. Your nose runs and there are rivers of mascara on your cheeks. Later you will look in the mirror and ask yourself why you bothered to wear it at all.
Even now, that’s how it feels. Like it’s happening to someone else. Almost like I’m watching a made for television movie except the main character looks a whole lot like the fat me that I see in the mirror.
The hardest part of the entire process is the internal mental dialogue. You ask yourself a million times if you’ve thought it all out. Did you make the appointments for the radiation? Did you schedule chemo for the days when the kids had school? Did you remember to tell those kids that you love them even when they’re mouthy?
You smile at everyone whether you feel like it or not. You hold your nearly bald head high when you tell the old ladies of the hospital auxiliary that you’re doing fine, getting better every day. Then you tell yourself that you could always find the next Dr. Kevorkian because at least then you would die with at least a trace amount of dignity. All the while, you smile that thousand watt smile that your husband says is the one he knows isn’t real.
It’s not always self-pity. Sometimes you’re just downright pissed off; at the doctor, at your husband, at the nurse who holds the bags of chemo. You want to scream and pull the IV out of your arm like your former patients used to do all the time. You want to ask the clergy who prays for you why God decided that this was your cross to bear.
Friends don’t know what to say, so they stop calling or emailing. Family members don’t visit and gossip among themselves about how they think you’re doing. You can rely on your husband and your mother, but you hate to because they just look so damn tired.
It’s an emotional high wire act that can go wrong at any moment. Which mask is it today, the happy but in pain or the honest and unbearable? My husband says it’s a roll of the dice and he’s right; except I’m usually not the one rolling them because cancer has already done that for me.
Luckily, I do have my writing. When the world is a mess and my emotions are jumbled, I can sit down and blog. I am lucky to have met some great people through my blog and through other things I have written, so I try to let that be my focus.
Someone out there has it much worse than I do. This week someone has already lost a lover, buried a child, or been diagnosed with HIV. Someone in a country far away doesn’t have enough food to eat or money to pay the rent. Others have no jobs and no idea if they will survive another night with an abusive spouse.
When I look at the big picture, I’m ashamed of myself. For as much as it seems has been taken away, I have been given so much. My children are healthy. My husband still has his job. My mother and father love me. I can laugh, smile, and breathe.
Oct 20 2008
Happy New Toy Tuesday. Today instead of review something I’ve got here, I wanted to review VibeReview.com itself. We (bloggers) tend to test and report on a lot of products. We are asked to put our names with a company and expect that what we say is going to be backed up by the store we are representing. We are literally signing our name to it like a presidential campaign, “I am Catalina and I approve this message.” By the way, I posted this originally at Catalina Loves.com. It is reflective only of my opinion.
There’s been a lot of talk lately about the blogging review and affiliate program. Some people have been on the fence about which company we should get behind. My nomination and vote goes for VibeReview.com.
No, I don’t get paid to write my reviews from VibeReview.com - guess what? I don’t work for them in any capacity. That frees me up to say that I don’t like a product if I don’t like it. I can write my review to my specs. I don’t have to include any hoaky text, there are no real demands on my review other than test it, write about it, link to it. I choose to be an affiliate, so it works out that if you buy that product through my sites because I recommended it, then great, I get a 20% commission. Don’t plan on making a living this way, but it adds up and you can buy a nice pair of shoes!
If you haven’t noticed, aside from Liberator.com, the only sex toy store I represent is VibeReview.com. I choose to link my brands, Catalina Loves and Best Sex Bloggers.com, with theirs. Why am I so loyal and why is it that I love VibeReview.com and recommend it to other bloggers, and in particular to consumers? Because they have never once been anything but honest and genuine with me. Integrity goes a long way. I feel loyal to them because they are the little guy. They are scrappy. They want business and they provide better customer service than anywhere else I’ve seen. You know how it is - big companies aren’t too concerned about you unless you’re bringing in serious affiliate money.
Look at your choices. VibeReview.com is a fantastic company. Their commitment to the Blogger CommUNITY is so strong that though we haven’t worked out the details, they are willing to help sponsor the Butterfly Temptress Cancer Fund after another toy store (the sex shop I do not trust) rescinded their offer. All with just a phone call from me. No, it’s not that I’m amighty and powerful (well, I am kinda) but that their human compassion outweighs a net loss of income. That’s a company I want to do business with!
Oct 20 2008
Editor’s Note: This is part of a ten-part series written by The Butterfly Temptress.
For information on how you can help, please the introductory post or go directly to the http://thebutterflytemptress.com.
Click to read Life.Love.Cancer: Part 1
Click to read Life.Love.Cancer: Part II
Long before the diagnosis, long before the seizures and the struggles within my marriage, cancer had completely taken my body over. I was tired and lethargic. I’d gone from working hours upon hours as a nurse to being unable to fix a full meal for our family. Exhaustion had taken hold.
As with many female issues, a common first sign of trouble is bleeding during or after intercourse. It was definitely the case with me, but one day it started and it never stopped. Week after week, pad after pad, I bled. After six weeks I scheduled an appointment with my family physician who promptly referred me to a gynecologist.
My first exam was impossible to do because the bleeding was so bad. The doctor told me that he wanted to prescribe birth control pills for six weeks just to see if they made a difference. So I sucked down a pill every single day for six weeks and went through a super-size packs of sanitary napkins weekly. Still, I bled.
My next appointment came and he said that he was going to try to do an exam, even though the bleeding was profuse. So I endured what had to be one of the most painful exams ever. While he was doing the exam he also decided to do a biopsy, just in case. When I left, I left with a handful of pamphlets and lots of questions.
Ultimately, the tests came back and they did some minor surgeries. We thought that was it. Just some abnormal cells, n
