Nov 292010
 

slutToday at work I’m thinking a lot about my personal boundaries in a sexual context and trying to sort out the ethics around sex when your business is very personal and all about sex. Unlike most businesses, our website wants to promote intimacy among the people involved in making it work. And rather than keeping it secret, we talk about it and take pictures.

So far, this hasn’t been a problem because we are all in relationship with each other, but now we’re starting to set up photo shoots and to involve other people in myriad ways. I want to make sure that everyone gets what they need out of these interactions, including the website. How do we make sure that happens?

Right now we are making pornography. I want it to be really hot erotic porn. I want the energy to be there, to be real. That means that our models need to actually enjoy themselves and deeply feel turned on. The analogy that comes to mind is free range chickens tasting better. I only want to make happy porn. No posers, no phoning it in.

Sadly, this ties into my boundary issues. I recently found myself in a situation where I was engaging in sexual activity in order to create the right shot for a photo shoot, when I wasn’t really into it. I was happy to do it in order to get the shot for the website, but it was a mistake. It felt weird and wrong. And that’s not the ethics I want for my business.

Boundaries feel fuzzy to me when I’m doing sex related work with friends I don’t have sex with. Alternately, it feels strange to do intimate work around sex with people I don’t know. My boundaries involve only doing things that feel good and right. It’s sometimes trickier to navigate, but I’m happiest this way. I’m basically going to run my company this way too, making sure that no one feels exploited.

The WholeSexLife CEO has spoken! Let there be lots of free-range sex and let people only do what feels good and right. Except for those deadlines. You still need to meet your deadlines.

Nov 282010
 

skatesI went roller skating today! I haven’t been on skates for something like 25 years, but for a while skating was what I lived for. During those pre-teen years – 5th, 6th, and 7th grades –I was at the rink every chance I got. I’d forgotten why until today.

Roller skating rinks are fairly ubiquitous. The one I was at today is much like the one from my childhood, but I’ve changed. I’ve gotten old. At first my thoughts were about how I wished I brought my Superfeet insoles so I would be more comfortable in the skates. I was shaky, not remembering how to move on wheels. I was being overly cautious. I’m overweight and out of shape. I don’t live in my body like I ought to – like I used to.

It started to come back to me after a couple of laps. I felt the breeze in my hair and remembered how free I always felt on skates. It might have been the only place in my life where I felt free and self-confident. At the rink, I was a hot shot. Not one of the speed skaters, but I was a good skater. I had friends there. I felt special. I loved the rituals like the Hokey Pokey and Partners Skate, and Shoot the Duck. It felt dangerous, but I was in control. I could take risks and damn the consequences.

I adored the rink itself. It was like a glamourous woman well past her prime. Sure, things were threadbare in places, but with the colored lights hitting the disco ball and that cute boy smiling, it was the most promising thing in town. The skating rink was my only option for meeting boys besides school. I made up my perfect boy and a story about meeting him at the rink. I wished with all my might that it would come true. And while I waited, I skated, and it felt like flying.

Finally, I see that in my pre-teen world, skating held the same place in my life that sex does now. Sex is where I feel at home – free and special. I have some talent and some skill, but it’s more a feeling of potential. Sure, things look a bit worn. It doesn’t matter when sex lets me escape for a while. Everyone needs to be a rock star some of the time. I’m willing to take some risks because I’ve weighed the consequences.

I’m not going back to my hot shot days (although roller derby has some appeal), but I am going to do more to get back into shape. I was a gymnast once. I know what it feels like to have my body do exactly what I want it to. For now, I’m soaking my sore muscles in the tub. (Yes, I’m typing while wet and naked). Strangely enough, the muscles that are sore are largely the same ones I use for really aerobic sex. Maybe I’ve alway been a roller girl at heart!

Nov 272010
 
Evoe & Joel Handfasting

Evoe & Joel's Handfasting

I’ve spent some time recently contemplating the nature of marriage. Everyone seems to unconsciously internalize ideas from childhood about what it means to be married. I’ve been trying to look at what those concepts are for me and decide if they are useful in my relationships. What makes a good marriage? And what about sex – how important is sex to marriage?

These are difficult questions to answer without good models for marriage. My parents separated when I was seven. I don’t know what their sex life was like, but I can remember both of them having affairs. How many people fill in the holes in their broken marriage by secretly having sex with other people? I can see how my parent’s fantasies about marriage trapped them in roles they didn’t really want.

My grandparents were married for almost 50 years, but longevity isn’t necessarily a measure of marital success. I do think they were still in love when they died. They raised 3 children together, but had different interests and hobbies. By the time I came along, they usually slept in separate bedrooms – did they ever have sex?  What allowed them to share their lives for so long?

Part of my problem in looking at marriage is that you never know from the outside what a relationship is really like. I remember growing up, my best friend’s parents – they were quite respectable, did all the right things, but when I spent the night they were bitter and nasty to each other. They wouldn’t get divorced because they were Catholic. How many people stay in miserable marriages because it’s the right thing to do? How many people are miserable and you can’t even tell?

My first marriage is a good example. I got married young, at 22. I was a single parent working hard to heal from childhood abuse. He had financial stability, a secure job, physical fitness, and he wanted a family. I knew that I was kinky, even then, and introduced him to bondage and caning. Aside from his mom worrying about the sadomasochism, everything seemed promising.

After the wedding and after having a baby together, things started to fall apart. One of the problems for me was that sex quickly got tedious. He refused to do anything that might hurt me. He was jealous and over-protective. I became expert at avoiding sexual contact with him. I could pretend to sleep or try to keep doing housework until he was asleep. I knew exactly how far I could push it until I really had to have sex. Then I prided myself at being able to get it over as quickly as possible. It seems odd to me now that I would live like that, but at the time I felt trapped.

None of our friends knew how hard it was for me. It wasn’t something I knew how to talk about or they knew how to hear. He was very controlling and I wasn’t often allowed to do things without him, so I didn’t get much of a chance to talk anyway. When I suddenly decided to leave him, many of our friends were shocked. It didn’t help that I was already in love with Joel. After knowing what it felt like to be in love, there was no way I could have stayed in my marriage. So for me, love is a the most important part of marriage.

Harold & Evoe Handfasting

Harold & Evoe's Handfasting

Sexual fulfillment has also become an important component to my relationships, marriage or not. But that’s not about whether or not I come, it’s about respect and consideration. My sexuality is an important part of who I am and I don’t want to be in a relationship where I have to pretend to be someone I’m not. That means that I need room to be poly and kinky!

But is sex important to a marriage? Traditionally, a union isn’t valid without being consummated, however, lots of people come to live in sexless marriages over time. I use sex to help communicate the love, respect, and closeness I feel for my partners. Although I believe in sex, I could find other ways to do that. I wouldn’t stop loving Joel or Harold if either were suddenly unable to have sex. We would still be good partners in other ways.

I think every couple makes their own marriage. I’ve had commitment ceremonies with both Joel and Harold and our vows were different for each. Every relationship is unique, with different agreements. I’m still thinking about this, but basically, I think that as long as both partners feel happy, loved, respected, and supported it’s a successful marriage. With or without sex. But I’ll take mine with sex please!

Nov 262010
 

Evoe's lipsMy sweetest moments are in the middle of a kiss. Like that moment when both people pull back just a few millimeters and share breath, lips just barely touching. I love extended make-out sessions, where it starts out playful and exploratory, but ends end hard, intense, and breathless. I think kissing can be better than sex. Lucky for me, kissing often leads to sex – so I don’t have to choose – but even a kiss by itself is amazing.

Kissing is it’s own language. You can communicate so much with a kiss. It can be subtle or blatant, intimate or impersonal, meaningless or significant. From the kiss of death, to the kiss-off, to take me I’m yours, a kiss is a powerful thing. Kissing can be quite spiritual. A kiss goodbye, a kiss for luck, kissing the bride – sometimes a kiss conveys your meaning better than words. Most people use a kiss to say, I love you.

When my partners kiss me I know that I am wanted, even desired. I cherish those moments when we steal a few minutes in a quiet place and press our lips together. I feel a little dizzy, my mind goes blank, my body feels lighter – then a warmth travels down my center, from my mouth to my cunt. The kiss intensifies and I feel wild. I want to devour my lover. Kisses tend to travel to other parts of the body then back to the lips again. We slow down, but the energy stays fervent. My kisses are laden with the need that fills me.

kissingThis is the point at which we regretfully part our bodies and gaze into each other’s eyes. We are panting and lustful. The ardor stretches out between us. One move from either of us will have us searching for a convenient broom closet or a DVD that the kids haven’t watched yet. It’s a fine edge and I’m eager to skate it. Ordinarily, we calm ourselves, banking that fire so we can throw tinder on it at a better time. At times, foreplay lasts for days. But from time to time, that kiss says more than we can withstand and we end up on the kitchen floor with our pants around our ankles.

Darling, it’s very sweet when you kiss me.

Nov 252010
 

To celebrate the American holiday of Thanksgiving, I want to spend some time being truly thankful for the many blessings in my life. I have a good life, full of many wonderful things. I have a large, complicated, frustrating, fabulous family. I live in a beautiful place in a house that I have made our home. I am lucky to be loved – wholly, deeply, completely – not just once, but many times over. Sex and mind-blowing orgasms are absolutely on the list. I have the opportunity to touch many lives in positive life-affirming ways. I have a job that I adore with many interesting perks that I appreciate.

These are all good things. By all accounts, I am blessed. But if I had to choose just one thing to be thankful for, that thing that makes life worth living, I’d have to say… bondage.

Joel trussed

Bondage just makes most sexual interactions better. For me, it’s like salt, a little bit enhances the flavor of nearly any dish. Even straight vanilla folk are known to occasionally pull out the handcuffs or tie on a blindfold. For me, bondage is the beginning and the end. It’s the first kink that I recognized I was really into. And at the end of the day, bondage is what binds the different strands of my sexuality together.

I’m geeky enough to like all of the gear – my various kinds of rope, the lengths of chain, the tape, the old stockings I use to tie up Harold’s balls, the leather cuffs, the spreader bars, the eye hooks in the ceiling and floor, the tie down points around the bed, and all of the things that just seem right in the moment. But I also love the end result. I want it to be pretty. Bondage really gets me going. It’s so hot, and I’m thankful!

If I’m the one getting bound, what I really want is to struggle. I want to be taken down and tied. Or I’ll let myself be restrained in order to calmly prove that I can get myself loose. (Actually, now that I think of it, I’m not so calm, I giggle like crazy.) Often, the bondage used on me is a power game. I’m challenging my partner to prove that they are strong enough and smart enough to keep me before I submit. And once bound, I like having something to pull or push against. I am incredibly thankful to receive oral sex while tied up! Oh to be helpless and thrashing against that tongue lashing…

Evoe bound

When I’m on top, my focus is somewhat different. I use bondage to create art. I want my partner’s form to create a new line. Their body is mine to manipulate and control. When I am engaged in CBT, bondage delineates my place to play. Of course, the bondage itself can be part of the torture. I get really wet seeing someone all pinned down before my affections. I am extremely thankful to be able to have Harold’s arms chained overhead, his balls tied to the floor, and to look into his eyes when I apply my foot to his balls. It’s a beautiful experience.

I’m also thankful for all the aspects of bondage that I have yet to explore. I’m wild about learning new skills. I know next to nothing about suspension bondage or all the fancy Japanese bondage. I want to discover more knots that I learned in Girl Scouts or sailing. And having new partners to restrain is always inspirational. Yep, I have a lot of bondage to be thankful for!

So, have a fantastic Thanksgiving today. Enjoy being with the people you love, friends, feasting, and fun. Count your blessings! And if you’re wondering what to do after pie, just truss up your Sweetheart up like a turkey, and stuff ‘em.

Nov 242010
 

Babies totally expropriate one’s sex life. It just happens. In some ways it’s necessary. Babies are the center of the world and they need their parents in order to survive. I get it – it’s actually very lovely – but when I wake up in the morning lying in a wet spot, my t-shirt soaked, and droplets of milk all over chest, I am nostalgic for a time long gone. A time when falling asleep in the wet spot made me smile in sated bliss. A time when a wet t-shirt meant a pretty good party. And a time when a pearl necklace was applied with something other than a baby bottle.

Evoe & Harold at birthIt starts with pregnancy and birth. Being pregnant means giving up your body for a period of time. You can usually still do all of the things you like to do, even have sex, but there is an awareness that you are sheltering another life. Much of your energy goes toward dreaming that baby into being. Then it’s time for the birth and your cervix and vagina open incredibly wide to push the baby out. Birth is an amazing miracle, but it’s also very animal. The process is physically relentless as the body does what it knows to do. Afterwards, you feel a little strange in your body and most women feel some cramping and vaginal discomfort for at least a while – sometimes up to 6 weeks. Learning to breast feed your baby can be challenging. For me, it was always the most rewarding part of having a baby, but suddenly breasts aren’t just sexual any more. Nipples are for feeding the baby, not squeezing.

It takes some women a long time to feel like sex after birth, but after I healed from each birth, I was ready to make love again. Breast feeding pumps you up with oxytocin, the hormone that makes you feel love. It’s also released when you orgasm and  when you gaze into your lover’s eyes. It makes you feel warm and slightly fuzzy. It makes some men fall asleep after they come. Having my babies at breast tended to fill me with love. That love often translated to desire for my partner and sex, in turn, translated to feeling more warmth for my baby. But sometimes, I would feel touched out. Having a baby attached to me all day could turn me off.

I imagine it’s hard for the dads too. Today Joel mentioned that he’s not getting enough snuggling. Well, of course not, there’s a baby sleeping between us! Touching toes only goes so far. Still, we’ve always been good at finding creative solutions to the baby-in-the-bed issue. I think that where there is desire, there is a way. I’d just prefer that the baby stop sticking her hands down my shirt to grab my nipples. Especially in public.

Nov 222010
 

Wood and snowOccasionally, I’m not in the mood. It happens. Like today, I did all of my work for WholeSexLife, but I didn’t really feel it. It’s difficult to gauge how erotic, provocative, or sexy a photo is when I’m just not there. Nothing happening below the waist today, boys.

Actually, my boys were very sweet. Joel cleaned house naked just to cheer me up. He even demanded that Harold take off his clothes when he came home from work. The naked boys sandwiched me and gave me kisses. Most of the time this would have me feeling at least mildly turned on. Today, it makes me happy because I’m a lucky girl, but I don’t feel like jumping them.

I do feel oddly weepy – and no, it’s not that time of the month. Maybe my body is busy doing something else right now. I’m not worried. Everything in my life is pretty good. I am full of love. I’ve done some lovely kissing today that left me feeling intimately connected. I took a bath to have some time to myself. I spent some time being quiet in my body.

I love it when everything flows and I feel alive and on. It’s great to feel sexy and hot. I want that spark of connection. I enjoy feeling lust and desire. It’s fabulous. But it’s one part of who I am, not my identity. I am the CEO of WholeSexLife, but sex is not my whole life.

I’m not in the mood right now… but tomorrow is another day.

Nov 212010
 

Select studThe name says it all – HARDware. Something about the hardware store just turns me on. It’s so sexy. And it’s like people don’t even know that hardware stores sell sex.

I can’t walk down the aisles without contemplating the utility of each item as a sex toy or tool. I’ve purchased a variety of rope, red electrical tape, nylon strapping, pallet wrap, chain, eyebolts, and  carabiners for bondage use. Fiberglass reflector posts make wicked canes. Clothes pins, feather dusters, and plastic tubing can be fun in all sorts of ways! I just pick something up and try to imagine how I would use that item to turn someone on.

Creative kinky people can get into all kinds of trouble at the hardware store. Just think of the things you could make – spreader bars, racks, vices, paddles, sounds, ball stocks – hell, even a fucking machine! All you need is a little imagination.

This morning Harold, Melanie, and I went shopping. We found a 48″ purple bungee cord with carabiners at both ends and something that is like a giant twist tie, yet soft. I anticipate lots of fun experimenting with these, but I have to wait for Christmas.

Even if you aren’t into making things, the hardware store is rife with bad sexual innuendo. For example, today Harold needed some studs. He picked out a few premium studs, but he felt that perhaps the cost was too high. He was relieved to find some cheap select studs. And really, all he needed was for those studs to be physically sound, appearances didn’t matter. Did I mention that hardware shop can mean a male escort service in the UK?

Bondage ropeI think there’s a reason that so many sexual terms come from hardware related things. Think about it – let’s screw, I’m going to nail that girl, it’s hammer time, let’s hook up, I can’t wait to get ahold of his nuts and bolts, he’s got wood, how big is his tool – all reflect the reciprocal nature of  sexuality and the hardware store. Sex and hardware share a similar intent, namely creative force. And that gritty, glittery potential gets me hot.

Try it some time. I challenge you to let yourself be turned on the next time you happen to be in the sexy, sexy hardware store. Buy an item just because you think it might enhance your sex life, even if it’s just something that you think will feel good against your skin. I dare you.

Nov 202010
 

The lust for shoes saga continues. Today I went to the Fluevog store to try on those boots I’ve been longing for. And they didn’t fit! It was like a promising first date that just doesn’t have any chemistry.

I feel crushed. I could make them fit but they wouldn’t look quite right. And I would know they weren’t right, that I was just trying to pretend that we had something in order to fulfill some deep emotional need. And no matter how empty I feel, no matter how much I desire those red leather hotties, the cost isn’t worth it. When I meet the right boots, I’ll know. And nothing will stand between us.

Lily DarlingOf course, I am poly. I did look around the store while I was there. I even slipped my feet into a few pairs of shoes. I mean, I’m not blind! I appreciate beauty in many forms. Sometimes I need boots. Sometimes I need heels. Sometimes I need a shoe to wear with jeans. I love them all.

That said, I have a new crush, Lily Darling. She’s perfect. Well, she would be perfect in a half size smaller, but they didn’t have it in stock. I’m contemplating actual commitment. I think we would be very happy together. We would look pretty damn hot, but a relationship is built on more than that. We would also take good care of each other.

I’m grieving, and yet – so wanty!

Nov 192010
 

Blue bunnyI love my job.

This afternoon I was taking some pictures of sex toys for a calendar I’m putting together. Digging around in Harold and Melanie’s toy closet, I found this blue vibrator with a bunny attached to it. You know the kind – they’re supposed to provide both penetration and clitoral stimulation.

Harold took a break from programming and I asked him about the vibrator. I’ve never actually used anything like it before. He told me that it hadn’t really worked for Melanie. Just not her thing. But I could try it if I was curious. Okay!

With parent-teacher conferences less than half an hour away, I didn’t want to take off my boots or my clothes, so I just pushed my jeans down and lay down on the end of the bed. The vibrator felt a little strange, with the motor taking up a lot of space and the rest all squishy. It was easy to insert the main part, but Mr. Bunny’s ears were not cooperating. I tried firmly positioning him on my clitoris. It really wasn’t doing much for me. I took my hand off of the bunny entirely and WOW! Hey, guess what, the bunny vibrates a whole lot more if you don’t touch him.

For about a minute it was the most intense, incredible, and overwhelming experience – but I wasn’t going to come. It was just too much. But for that minute, I was making lots of happy noises. Then I lost my positioning and couldn’t get it just right again, leaving me a tiny bit frustrated. Wait! Harold is in the other room.

“Honey? Will you go down on me, please? Please?”

Harold was willing, perhaps even eager, to comply. He ripped off one boot and freed my leg from my pants so he could reach my cunt. Ah, bliss after all of that buzzing. Harold’s tongue was the most perfect thing on earth – for almost 60 seconds. I was simply filled with this fierce need to be fucked. My hands were pulling at him, urging him to do rough, wild, completely unarticulated things to me. All I could manage was, “Please, please, please, please, please…”

He stood up and starting fumbling with his pants. Yes! I leapt to help and had his cock in my mouth as quickly as I could. Soon that was more than Harold could take and he hobbled over to the bed with his pants around his ankles. I wanted to keep sucking his cock but he was begging me to fuck him. My pleasure.

Harold, spentFinally, I had my release. And then Harold had his. It was one of those moments of stillness after furious action – everything seems to move in slow-motion and I’m filled with gratitude and a sense of well-being. Then I scrambled to get dressed, finish my photo shoot, and get out the door. I was even on time to my meeting.

I guess ultimately, the bunny vibrator worked. It did totally turn me on. In fact it drove me wild with passion. I did orgasm. But maybe the warning on the box should read: WARNING, may require additional parts for optimum outcome.