Then they seriously let down Always Aroused Girl, the blogger whom had led me to them in the first place. Then I found out that despite their promises, they weren’t matching donations for The Butterfly Temptress. To promise to help a woman who may be dying of cancer, and then to back out on that promise?! Seems pretty shitty to me.

Then there was the whole fiasco with the New York City Sex Bloggers Calendar where, after agreeing to sponsor the calendar, they backed out of yet another deal, instead offering up a mere pittance (which was refused and instead the wonderful people at njoy stepped up).
At this point, I had decided to finish out my final reviews and end my relationship with EdenFantasys, but to do it quietly, and without making a big fuss.

Then I saw this. Apparently, and hopefully inadvertantly, a spreadsheet of data was released where anyone could access it. This information contained bloggers’ personal information - pretty much anyone who had ever reviewed for EdenFantasys, their information was on that list.

My information was on that list.

And to me, that is the final straw.
I wrote this letter to Fred Petrenko, owner of EdenFantasys.
“Hello Mr. Petrenko,
It is my understanding that EdenFantasys is your company and therefore your responsibility. I have had concerns working with EdenFantasy ever since your company screwed over Always Aroused Girl, and those only grew when I heard that you had backed out of matching funds for The Butterfly Temptress. I don’t even want to get into the fiasco with the New York Sex Bloggers Calendar. Needless to say, I have been choosing to work with and purchase from other companies who maintain better relationships among the sex blogging community.
However this latest incident is truly the final straw. Am I to understand that your company has somehow released my personal information and the personal information of anyone who has ever reviewed for EdenFantasys in a spreadsheet that can be accessed by the public at large?! I understand that the spreadsheet has since been taken down once you were notified about it, but I also know that my personal information was on that spreadsheet and available to be seen by anyone who could access it.
I think it is bad enough that any company should release the information of its customers where it could be accessed by the public, but for a company that deals in items of a personal and intimate nature. I wouldn’t blame people for never wanting to shop with you ever, ever again.
I think this is just awful. EdenFantasys used to have a solid reputation as an excellent store whose customer reviews made it one of the best on the market. To see how far bad business practices have taken it…I certainly hope that this might finally be a wakeup call. As for me, I will be severing all of my connections with your company. Broadcasting my personal information for anyone to see it is something that no customer should ever have to put up with - I certainly will not.
Thank you.
Thursday’s Child”

To me, this would be unacceptable if it were any store. To make your customers’ information accessible to the public? It violates almost any basic privacy agreement - it certainly violates EdenFantasys’ so called commitment to your privacy.

And so, I am done with them. Finished. I don’t want to work with a company who can’t be bothered to protect my personal information. I’ve already sent the letter above, and I’ll be contacting them to resolve the final few reviews that I had in the works for them. But I won’t be working with them ever again, and if you partner with them, work with them, or buy from them, you might want to take another look at that relationship and make sure that what happened to me isn’t happening to you.

Waking up from an arousing dream where I am a frustrated office worker daydreaming in my cubicle. Drowsy and still clinging onto half remembered sensations, I nuzzle into him, pressing my lower body against him, sleepily kissing on his neck and shoulder.

Still not quite awake, I whisper snippets of what I can remember into his ear, feeling him grow still against me as he enters waking consciousness and sleep turns to arousal.

He starts with my nipples, pulling and tugging the hard bud, first with his fingers. Pulling hard enough to hurt, the pain inflames my lust and instead of crying out, I start to make sounds not unlike purring. His mouth follows his fingers, then his mouth on my right breast while his fingers pluck at my other nipple pulling it into a hard peak.

I writhe beneath him, pressing my hips against his body, pleading through my actions, and though he takes his time with me, it is not long before my panties are drawn off and my legs spread for him. I’m syrupy wet and fragrant - there’s no need for foreplay and confronted with evidence of my obvious arousal, his fingers slide deep inside me, pressing that swollen spot inside, rubbing and pressing until the first of many orgasms overtakes me and I keen softly into his chest. He is not satisfied, and another follows, then another, until I am bucking beneath him while he tugs on my engorged clit, all the while rubbing that magical spot.

He pulls me over his lap, his hard cock pressing into the soft flesh of my belly, pushes my head down so my ass is up in the air. The spanking should hurt, but instead of crying out, I moan with each blow. He works the sweet spot right above where my thighs meet, and I press into his hand, meeting his hand, needing what he offers.

He pulls me back, pushing my head down towards his feet so that I’m splayed open over his legs, everything revealed. He prepares my tight hole, the lube cool against the heated skin, then the metal plug pushes in smoothly and I moan as I accept it with me. But he’s not done. Pulling my lips wide, he slips in the Smartballs, sealing them deep inside me. Filled in both orifices, I moan into the bed, the sensations making it hard to think.

He pulls me to my feet, and I get dressed. Shaking my head hard, trying to clear the lust fog and concentrate at the task at hand. Mundane daily tasks, walking the dogs, things that must be done, but with the heavy plug inside me, the motion of my hips making me aware of it with every step and the little vibrating balls working their magic until I can feel my slickness dripping down between my lips. He laughs, spanking my ass through the jeans, feeling the base of the plug and pushing on it. I lean against him, my hot forehead against his cool coat, and moan into his neck, pleading to go back to the house, not knowing how much more I can take. I am already so inflamed…

We go back, and as soon as we’re inside, the door locked behind me, I’m pulling my clothes off and throwing them haphazardly on the floor until I’m naked. He’s already on the bed, sitting up against the pillows at the headboard, cock semihard, watching me with smouldering eyes. Then my mouth is on him while he plays with my ass, pressing the plug in deeper to watch my hips buck. He pulls me off briefly, to pull on the silicone cockring, then I’m devouring him, tasting him greedily, trying to take every last inch into my mouth while he hardens until the veins and ridges stand out like cut glass, and I cannot wait to have him inside me.

On my knees before him, he hovers over me momentarily, trying to decide between my ass and my cunt. I remind him of the weekend’s upcoming festivities, and he pulls the Smartballs out of me, tossing them aside before burying his shaft inside me, fully, to the hilt, and I cannot stay still beneath him, hips grinding, ass moving, back arching, all to preserve the fullness, the feelings building.

He fucks me hard, at one point, his fist in my hair pulling my head back to accentuate the arch of my back, then he’s coming inside me, so scalding hot and deep. I’m so close, still riding that perpetual edge, not wanting to lose the intensity that comes right before orgasm. We lay together, my hips against his side, unable to keep still, they still bounce and writhe.

I beg, I plead. It’s no longer a question of what I want. It’s desperation, something I need, now. He pulls out the new Curve, slides it inside me, and the first stroke presses just right and already I’m coming, hips bucking as the pleasure overtakes me then it’s too much and I’m almost crying because I can’t stand it. I slow his hand, and slide my hand behind me to pop the plug out. It’s too much, I tell him, too much, and he gives me a look that tells me that there will be a next time with both, but then he’s moving the Curve in and out of me, smoothly, gliding, and it’s like there’s screaming inside my head as my pussy gushes, contracting, clenching, over and over, and I can’t stop begging for just one more, then just one more, then just one more until I’m exhausted, spent, deliciously bruised and exhausted, laying in a puddle of my own juices and I cannot take anything more because I am finally satisfied.

I’ll admit, I’m somewhat of a lube novice. I used to think that lube wasn’t necessary because I’ve always tended to get very wet, and usually if lube is needed we just took Jenna Jameson’s advice and used spit to do the job. We first bought a bottle of lube primarily for anal play, some generic water-based lube that did what it should without complications, though it always leaves me stickier than I would like on my own. Since trying lube for the first time, however, I’ve become a bit of a convert.

Over the course of the relationship I’ve noticed my self-lubrication has decreased rather significantly. I used to be wet just about all the time, but now, two and a half years later, it takes more to get me lubed up the right way. I think this has to do with my body realizing that if I kept producing that much juice, coupled with a dryer hotter environment, I would be dehydrated all the time, though I’m sure some of it also has to do with being in a long-term relationship and getting used to the other partner as well.

Long story short, I’ve become a lube convert. Since I have a lot of silicone toys I have stayed away from silicone lube, since together they can cause a strange chemical reaction which will basically ruin your toys for further use. But as I said, the water-based lube we’ve tried has left us both sticky and just generally not good feeling, so I wanted to try something a little different.

So, in looking at the various lube options over at SexToy.Com I was intrigued when I came upon the “Churn Style” Boy Butter, which is neither water- nor silicone-based but oil-based. I had heard about Boy Butter years ago at the sex shop in Juneau, a friend pointed it out to me, but at that time I wasn’t converted yet. I decided I should give it a try.

I was a little worried about the fact that Boy Butter does have organic silicone in it, but after quite a bit of research, including Boy Butter’s website and various other reviews of the lube saying it is all toy-safe I felt safe trying it on my silicone.

However, the major problem with Boy Butter for some is that it is oil-based. Oil-based lubes, while less sticky than water-based and toy-safe unlike silicone-based, are not latex-safe, which means unless you are using polyurethane condoms or are fluid-bonded with your partner (as Onyx and I are) you really shouldn’t use them. It basically eats away at the latex of condoms or gloves, which is definitely not safe. Though it is wonderful if you are not using latex during sex or for solo play.

Now that all the general info is out of the way, let me tell you about how Boy Butter tastes, smells, and most importantly how it feels, because that’s what you really want to know about, right? Boy Butter has virtually no taste or smell that I could detect whatsoever, but it does leave an oily feeling in your mouth should it end up there which is easily removed by drinking something. It feels damn near how it sounds: silky and smooth like butter; oily but not unpleasant, quite the contrary in fact. I found Boy Butter to be excellent especially in any sort of stroking, either stroking Onyx’s cock, or stroking my clit. Unlike other lubes, it lasts a nice long time and doesn’t get sticky, which makes it perfect for long stroking sessions.

When using it vaginally I found I needed more than I thought I would in order for it to feel right. Boy Butter creates a thin slick coating of oily lube on whatever you put it on, which wasn’t thick enough to be terribly pleasant alone, but once I got my own juices going I felt that the combination of the two was heavenly.

Anally, too, Boy Butter was a bit of a dream. It makes me think of crisco in some respects, though not quite as thick, but similar since they are both oil-based. The best part about using Boy Butter anally is that it lasts for a nice long time, so you don’t have to keep reapplying to keep the slickness the same.

I definitely recommend Boy Butter for just about any sexual activity that doesn’t include latex. It’s odorless and tasteless and lasts for a good long time. Plus, who wouldn’t want to own some “Churn Style” Boy Butter that is “a downright pleasure to spread”? The puns alone are worth it in my book.

I answered their ad that mentioned they were looking for a submissive male to perform service for them. It would start out with cleaning and chores with a chance that it would lead to more sexual play.

We exchanged emails a few times, I answered their list of questions and they decided to meet me. I was excited to say the least. Finding not one but two women for service AND play? It seemed too good to be true.

It was too good to be true.

They wanted to meet at a sushi place on the Upper East Side, I arrived ten minutes early. They arrived thirty minutes late.

As soon as we sat down they started asking about me and my search for a dominant. The tall blonde suggested I shouldn’t have moved to New York from the midwest since it wouldn’t be any easier for me to meet anyone here. She said it as though she was bringing something to light that I didn’t know.

We briefly talked about what growing up on a farm was like. After I mentioned the fact that my father had to sell some his land, the blonde said “NO! Never sell land! That’s just not smart. You never sell land!”. She was pretty much calling my father an idiot. As though he had a choice in the matter. As though he had options.

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to tell him that when I talk to him next”, I said politely as I could while being sarcastic.

They asked about my friends in the lifestyle. The tall blonde assumed I had been to a professional. I told her I had never been but I did have friends who are.

“What are their names? I have a beef with a few Pro Dommes”

“I’d rather not say. I don’t feel comfortable name-dropping. and I don’t think they’d appreciate me using their names as a reference without asking them first.” She looked angry and I added “If it’s a deal breaker, I understand”. The last thing I wanted was to get a call from a friend saying “Why is this nutjob calling me?”

I was then asked what my budget was for dinner.

“Um. Nothing? I’m sorry, I didn’t know you wanted me to pay for dinner. I won’t be eating anything since I’m tight on cash. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding.”

I was then told that it was a given that I would pay. “It’s just good manners”, the tall blonde said.

Later the brunette would tell me that she had never been on a date with a man who didn’t pay. She looked at me with disapproval.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know this was a date. I thought this was more of an interview for possible service. If you want me to go to the ATM and get twenty bucks I will”.

“See? That’s just rude. Then you’re putting the responsibility on me to say yes or no. You should just offer to do it”.

At that point I was glad that I didn’t go and get some cash. I was torn. I was trying to give them the benefit of the doubt as I hoped they were giving me. Maybe they were having a bad day or maybe they really hated me for some reason.

We talked about my experience with service. I mentioned my positives and negatives (folding fitted sheets). I mentioned how I wasn’t looking for play in return for service, that I’m not the type to make mistakes on purpose in hopes of being punished. If they wanted to play that would be great but I wanted them to know I enjoy service for the sake of pleasing. They seemed semi-interested but it was hard to read them. I mention that I was looking for someone who liked the idea of a man in service to them and not someone who didn’t care who did it as long as it got done.

We parted ways and I emailed them to thank them for their time and wished them luck on their search if they weren’t interested in me.

One of them replied saying: “I found you to be rude and cheap and your presence ruined my meal. It was a testament to charity and patience that I did not leave sooner.”

Oh? And what is it a testament to that you would send such an response to someone who just thanked you for your time?

I’m wondering why I didn’t just leave earlier. Why didn’t I excuse myself the second I realized they were not what I was looking for? Why did I give them the benefit of the doubt? It seemed clear fifteen minutes into it that they weren’t interested. Why do I consistently find myself in these situations and never learn to avoid them? The warning signs are there. I just need to open my eyes. Or not block my eyes with my cock.

It’s been a while since this happened. I’m not angry at them anymore nor am I hurt by the experience. I’m willing to accept blame for this one. I should have made it clear that I was in no position to pay for their meal before meeting them. We’re still living in a universe where some women will feel I need to pay them for the right to clean for them.

There are some dominant women who use their dominance as an excuse to treat men like they’re a dime a dozen (probably because we’re a dime a dozen).

The most rewarding service I’ve ever performed was to someone who required me to bring a receipt for anything I bought while in service. It was clear that my service was the important thing, not my money. I was providing what they saw was the most valuable thing possible: my sweat, dedication and sincerity.

The most rewarding sexual relationships I’ve had have been from those who wanted to be with me for my body or for my mind (sometimes both). Once again it was my sweat, dedication and sincerity that they valued most.

I’m interested in finding out how others feel about sex and intimacy. If you are interested in participating in a short questionnaire/interview, please leave me a comment. I’m currently compiling questions and you should receive them by the end of this week. If you’ve already contacted me via twitter, then I already have your name and information. I’d like to gather as many different points of views as possible to gain a better personal understanding of how people reconcile sex and intimacy, and I’ll publish the answers/responses here to share with everyone.

So, if you’re interested, email me at soopercathead AT gmail DOT com, and if you know anyone else who might be interested in participating, please spread the word!

This is going up significantly later than I’d planned. It seems we only got one entrant to the roundup this time. I’d like y’all to meet my good friend Nelson. He writes at Livejournal under a couple of different names, and he submitted a very cool gallery of photos of him with a blacklight.

NSFW - Blacklight

In this time period I also posted my favorite set of self-portraits, so I’ll put that back out there as well.

Light/Dark

As Elizabeth stated, the Roundup now comes with prizes! This time we were lucky enough to be able to offer the Blossom Sleeve as a gift from the lovely folks at Babeland. I suppose by default the prize goes to Nelson! I hope you enjoy it, and be sure to send us a review after you’ve gotten fully acquainted.

Something I’ve been thinking of a lot lately has been the differences between “types” of sex and sexual intimacy and encounters. It’s something that both The Leather Daddy and the Femme and PoMoSexuals made me think about a lot, because they both talked about male-female sexual interaction in a non-straight or non-hetero way. They recognized that males and females can interact sexually with each other in a queer way.

One of the main purposes of queer theory is actually to highlight and embrace the fact that no sex is normal/vanilla/straight, or, really, the opposite is emphasized: that all sex is queer. Very little aside from heterosexual missionary for-procreation-only sex is considered acceptable by our fucked up society, while the majority of people have sex that could not be categorized within that extremely narrow social definition.

Granted, ideas of acceptable sexuality have been evolving lately, but I wouldn’t say other types of sex have become any more acceptable, they’re just recognized as “what everyone does” which isn’t exactly an endorsement, though I’ll admit that my vision on this may be skewed by the last two years living in Utah. However, I really don’t think it’s just Utah talking.

So what’s the big difference between queer sex and straight sex? Aside from the usual definition of the sex of the partners (but that also brings into question is it the sex or the gender that matters?) it’s subtle, and may have a lot to do with intention. Can queer hetero sex include missionary sex? I say of course! The wonderful thing about the orbit(/label) queer is that it is very open to interpretation.

Most often the participants of queer sex are queer people, but that brings into the question of what makes someone a queer person. I’d argue that anyone outside of the norm of society is queer in some way, although not everyone would see it that same way. Queer is an important label for same-sex/gender-loving people to embrace, definitely, but I also think queer moves beyond that label as well.

If we define queer as what it’s not, meaning not normal, just about everyone would be able to be labeled queer. I’m not sure if I’ve ever met a normal person in my life, society perpetuates this idea of normalcy, but that doesn’t mean it exists anywhere, and usually those who think they are normal would not be considered normal by others, so where does that leave us?

Personally I dislike the term ‘normal’ for a variety of reasons, including the fact I have a degree in Psychology, but also because I have never believed that normal exists. People are just too damn individualistic for anyone to fit into a stereotypically cookie cutter image of what we are told we should be. Granted, this is a very western concept.

Back to queer sex vs. straight sex: personally I believe there is a different feeling to queer sex than there is to straight sex (though I try not to have straight sex at all, but every once in a while my sex slips into the realm of less-queer). Queer sex just feels a little, well, queer. It feels subversive and non-normal, even if it is normal to us and our bodies and desires. That’s not to say that there is anything wrong with non-normal, quite the contrary, I think it’s necessary.

Queer sex, to me, can happen between people of any sex or gender. The times I feel my sex is slipping into less-queer territory are those instances when Onyx and I have had quickie sex in nearly missionary position (I say nearly because my legs are up and not flat) with little foreplay and sometimes little attention paid to me. This has only happened infrequently, and usually when we’re both tired but wanting sex. I consider it far from the queerer sex we have which includes toys, various positions, or me fucking him rather than him fucking me.

That’s not to say that just anyone who doesn’t have missionary sex is having queer sex, although that is one possible definition. As I mentioned above I believe there has to be some sort of queer intent, though that is a very broad topic and definition. Also, I think queer sex must also occur between queer people, though that definition is also very broad and open to interpretation.

Now to throw kinky sex into the mix. Kinky sex can be defined in a similar way to queer sex in that it can be defined by what it isn’t, and what it isn’t is vanilla, or normal, but see my dialogue about normalcy? Is there really any such thing? What do we consider to be not kinky?

Perhaps I should define kinky in a way other than exclusion, though I’m not sure how to do that because it is also subtle and it depends entirely on perspective and personal definition. I posit that just as most people could be deemed queer due to having anything other than narrowly-defined non-queer sex that most people could be deemed kinky for having anything other than narrowly-defined non-kinky sex.

That, or we just need to get rid of these labels all together, but that brings me to another theory on labels: that we must define them then broaden them in order to be able to abolish them, so perhaps that’s what I’m working on doing right now!

And what about the quote in the image above? Is anything you do really only kinky the first time, because after you do it that desensitizes you to it, making you think less of the kink factor of it and more of the enjoyment of it? That makes sense in some ways, and it’s been my experience that people tend to measure others against their own experiences rather than the so-called “normal” experience expectation.

However, what constitutes kinky sex? For some it would be using toys and props such as dildos, vibrators, restraints, or blindfolds; for others it would be engaging in “extreme” activities such as S&m, D/s, watersports, or enemas; for others threesomes, foursomes, and moresomes are kinky. Just like queer sex, there is a wide range of what could be considered kinky sex, and it all depends on the person putting that label on it. I do believe that kinky sex has an intention behind it, just like queer sex does, but it is also just as difficult to pin down.

What I’m trying to say is that there are definitely differences between these three “types” of sexual interaction, and none of them are better or worse than others as long as you are interacting the way you enjoy and desire to interact. I’m not saying that straight sex is bad, though I do wonder how many people actually have it. I am saying that more people have queer sex than most people may think, but I’m also saying that labels and definitions such as queer and kinky are difficult to pin-down, and perhaps shouldn’t be pinned down.

I have met very few people in my life EVER that don’t like massages. I mean, there are so many types of massages; Swedish, Deep Tissue, Hot Stone, Skin Rolling, and then there is the kind that I do. What is that? Well, I do the best I can. I ask whoever I’m massaging what they like, hard or soft, any certain areas, etc. I love giving massages, I love getting them, I think massages are bloody brilliant.

Vibe Review has been kind enough to send me something to cater to my love of the massage; they sent me the Kama Sutra Massage Therapy Kit. This kit is lovely! It has five bottles of Kama Sutra massage oil, each one being 2 oz. Each one comes in a different scent; Serenity, Pleasure Garden, Healing Blend, Soaring Spirit and Sweet Almond.

In my time giving massages (read: every freaking night in college when living in the dorms and onwards), I have tried a variety of lotions and oils. Some are very greasy and make you gross and sticky forever…whereas others soak in and disappear right away, making it kind of pointless to even use them. The Kama Sutra oils actually meet a happy medium - they are smooth and provide for effortless massages, but then they eventually rub in (after lots o’ rubbing), leaving your skin (or your partner’s skin) feeling incredibly soft, and just slightly scented.

Scent wise, my favorite is definitely the Soaring Spirit. I find it really relaxing and refreshing - it has hints of ginger, peppermint, spearmint, fennel, orange and lemon. Now, I like most of these scents/flavors in general - I drink a lot of mint tea, I eat a lot of ginger (pickled and candied), I eat fennel or oranges, and love to suck lemon wedges. Ergo, it follows that I would love this scent, and I absolutely do. However, it isn’t for everyone; F was not such a big fan.

Pleasure Garden was an interesting scent…I found it a little too…well…incense-y. It isn’t very strong, which is a big plus for some people, but I could barely smell it. It has hints of sandalwood, jasmine, rose and lavender, which makes me think of sitting in a Moroccan restaurant, which is certainly not a bad thing, but it’s just not really my type of scent.

The Sweet Almond scent is really, really, really relaxing. It is great for a massage right before bed, and it is definitely a scent I would love to fall asleep to.

I found the Healing Blend to be a little strong, because it has so many different scents within it, but I could see how it would be really popular in general.

Serenity is a nice blend, and actually, my favorite way to use this is not really as a massage oil, but to drop into water, whether into a foot bath for soaking my feet, or into a fully drawn bath to soak and relax.

I will say that my cats weren’t the biggest fans of any of the scents…but they hated them less my Biofreeze and Tiget Balm, so it’s not a huge travesty.

I really like having the kit, because you have a choice of scents, and try them all out. However, if you’ve already figured out which scent is right for you, you can also buy large bottles of the massage oil (which I’ve already done with Soaring Spirit!).

Click here for your very own Kama Sutra Massage Therapy Kit.

-Essin’ Em

Babeland sent me the Slimline Vibrator to review. It comes in a nifty storage case:

This vibrator isn’t made out of a new material. It doesn’t have a fancy remote control. It doesn’t even have a weird shape to it. But that’s what makes this vibe so great. The simplicity in design makes this toy a classic.

You know those times where you just want a one person quickie? Just a quick, no frills, squeeze it in the middle of a busy day orgasm? The Slimline delivers just that. It has a good length, good width and the vibrations are strong. It’s like the Old Faithful of vibrators.

My one complaint? The vibe takes C batteries. I prefer toys that take AAs or AAAs. But the Slimline is so reliable I’ll put up with the larger batts.