Evoë’s Blog

Feb 242014
Evoë Thorne

Evoë Thorne, Sex Maven

This is my personal blog, with all of my kinks and silliness. Just my whole sex life, open and honest. Other people enjoy other things, and any sex act practiced by consenting adult is a-okay.

I’m here because I love sex. I really LOVE sex. I love to do it and I love to talk about it! I find it fascinating how different and how the same people’s sex lives are. What I adore is the beautiful intensity of connection between people, however they get there.

As a writer, artist, educator, activist, parent, partner, and friend, my goal is to open people up to feeling empowered in (and by) their sexuality. I dream of eliminating the fear that seems to permeate sexual culture.

I want to change the world. One orgasm at a time if I have to. Can I count on yours?

Evoë Thorne

Jan 242015

KnifeCourtship works in different ways for different folks. Harold and I took our time, flirting heavily and making out at parties for years, but when we finally decided to go to bed together it was serious. The first time was exploratory. I naively asked why we would need four hours to make love. The second time was wild and raw. We were animals together, no words, just rutting and frolicking. But the third time was magic – in the forest, in the moonlight, with a very sharp knife.

The moon hung low, radiant and swollen with desire, embraced in the naked limbs of the trees. My blood raced as I contemplated my plans for the evening. In the warm air, I felt the moon calling me like a siren to come swim, the water’s fine. And it was. Bathed in moonlight, Harold and I stood at the crossroads.

I took his hands, noticing his tidy nails, strong slender fingers, and finely furred forearms. The sleeves of his red button-down shirt were rolled up to the elbow. I’d asked him to wear something old. I didn’t know then that he’d chosen a shirt that had been his father’s, dark red for passion and blood. I looked at him for a long moment, feeling the power of possibility.

“Do you trust me?” I breathed into his ear.

He didn’t even hesitate, although he had no idea what to expect, “I trust you completely. I give myself to you.” Maybe he had some idea of what to expect. He knew me.

I laughed softly, “It might be dangerous.”

I filled my lungs and slowly exhaled, grounding some of my nerves, but I still felt dizzy with desire. I wanted to do this right. I pulled a silver knife from my pocket and let him see it. The razor-sharp blade was about as long as my hand, the hilt wrapped in red leather. It glinted in the moon’s fierce light.

“Is this ok?” I asked him softly. Taking his nod for consent, I cut a long strip from the bottom of his shirt and blindfolded him with it. The simple act carried an aura of rightness, yet I felt awkward. Unsure of where to put the knife, I momentarily held it between my teeth like a pirate.

Ignoring the slight tremor in my hands, I proceeded as though I knew what I was doing. I slid my blade into the gap in the front of the shirt and sliced through the thread holding onto each button. I slipped around him, letting my breasts brush against his arm and my breath caress the back of his neck. I thrust into the fabric, divesting him of his protective layers with a flick of my wrist. We both knew I was removing more than a simple shirt.

He stood before me, bare to his soul. The moon wrapped the gift of his vulnerability in glowing shadow-light. Needing to feel his skin, I shed my own clothes. My nipples hardened against his chest. He was breathing faster than normal when I pressed my lips to his, and although it took him half a second to respond, his embrace was ardent. I hoped that, like me, he felt the danger and the magic of the moment. His body was taut with expectation.

“I have you, “ I told him, touching his chest softly, “I can hurt you and I can heal you.”

I pulled the dull edge of my knife gently across his back, knowing that the weight of the blade would still feel intense in this state of arousal. I made pass after pass, never really breaking his skin, creating a web of lines across his back. He stayed relaxed under my hand, but I could feel that he was achingly present, waiting for the next stroke.

I paused, knife extended. I wanted him so hard. Everything about him turned me on. I had not known that sharing trust like this would be so hot. His utter faith laid me open. I pulled the cloth from his eyes. With a steady hand and an indrawn breath, I let the keen edge penetrate his flesh. I exhaled. Small dots of blood beaded along the lines I had drawn, forming a heart that glistened in the serious moonlight.

It was a night of surrender and bonds were formed. I know we must have had amazing sex, but I don’t remember the specifics. Isn’t that funny? It was an incredible night, and all of the many nights since then haven’t changed the fact that at the core of our relationship, Harold and I, we are still standing in the woods, under that moon, with a very sharp knife.

Jan 182015

Harold at our getawayThe power is out and we have no way to make coffee. This is close to epic tragedy, or national disaster. We are cut off from the rest of the world. I can’t even get a text message out. I am drinking leftover champagne in lieu of coffee. It washes last night’s excesses from my mouth, but it’s not the same.

This is our get-away. We try to go away like this as often as we can. The stresses of everyday life wear us down. With four kids still at home, we barely get a minute for ourselves. We spent all day yesterday talking through some relationship problems that have been plaguing us for a while and then wild, riotous, kinky sex. The kind of sex that we could never have at home because someone could walk in any minute. The kind of sex where we just let go.

This storm is glorious. At 2:00 in the morning, the wind was fierce, driving the rain hard against the windows. The nearby rattle and screech of trains going by seemed to be one with the weather. We are staying in a flat up in the mountains, the peaks obscured by clouds now, but white with snow yesterday. The gusts howl as they travel down into the valley. The trees still dance and sway outside the window. I am entertained.

I tried to sleep as long as possible this morning to stay warm. I didn’t want to wake up Harold. Finally I woke and he was gone. This place we are renting for the weekend is small. I called for him and he came immediately, naked, to snuggle with me. I rubbed up against him to warm his cold body.

I may have given more attention to some areas than others, because we ended up making love again. Not the wild drawn out sex of last night, just simple love making – kissing, fingers in hair, quickly trying to find the battery powered vibrator in the dark, my legs high over his shoulders… Fucking just because we love each other and it feels good, not even to orgasm.

Of course I’m on my period. It happens every time we get a chance to go away for a few days. I don’t mind, but it makes for such a mess. I’d rather not make a mess in someone else’s space. And now we don’t have hot water to wash in because the power is out, but I have an idea.

There’s a hot tub outside, in the storm, that may have retained enough heat for us to soak in. Harold ventures out to check and reports that it is still as warm as a bath. We run naked through the garden, mud squishing through our toes, and submerge ourselves in the warm water while the rain comes down and the snowy mountains hide behind mist and the trees wave wildly. We laugh and look into each other’s eyes. We kiss.

A loud crack from the trees on the hill above us startles us out of our love haze. I scan the surrounding tree but I don’t see any imminent danger. The thrill of it all makes my head buzz. I take a deep breath of cold air and laugh. It feels good to be alive, but maybe it’s time to go in all the same.

I can’t see the mountains at all now through the haze of the storm. Lack of coffee is making me feel dull and slow. I need to eat something to ground out my champagne buzz. I think maybe I’ve gone from Mary Poppins to Hunter S. Thompson in the space of a single lost weekend. As much as I hate to leave, I think it may be time to pack up and head back to reality coffee.

Dec 232014

For the seventh night of Chanukah I got to try suspension bondage for the first time! I guess DW had a personal challenge to complete a different suspension for each night of Chanukah. I love bondage, but this was my first try at suspension. Guess what, it’s fabulous!

Bondage makes me giddy. I grin a lot and get goofy. Being tied up tends to relax me. I was a little nervous about being suspended, but DW is so competent and solid. I knew I was in good hands. I liked the feeling of flying, and of having different parts of my body supported. There was a bit of a feeling of being on display or made pretty that was totally hot. Also, there’s just something about being restrained that makes me feel safe and cared for.

I was surprised to find that suspension bondage brought up some of my body issues. Like, that deep down I’ve always thought that I was way to heavy to be suspend. In fact, when I look at the pictures, the first thing I think is that I look fat, not how cool the rope work is. I am usually way more comfortable in my body than that! I was also interested to discover that I am fairly motion sensitive. Thankfully, DW didn’t want me to hurl on his pretty white carpet, so he didn’t spin me round.

Suspension bondage is really freeing. I can see it being a part of many of my fantasies – being on display, having many people’s hands on me while being helpless to move. Even the idea of being fucked while suspended because of the motion and different pressure points. I’m sure it would have it’s challenges, but the idea turns me on!

Suspension bondage

Bondage reflection

In his hands

Yay! Suspended!


Thank you DW for an awesome experience! Next time I’ll make sure to allow more time to explore the possibilities…

Dec 142014

Abby & EvoëThe other day I was telling a friend all about Abby and I called her my girlfriend. My girlfriend! I realized that even though we’ve only made love together twice and only been alone together for a weekend, she is my girlfriend in all the ways that matter. I think about her all the time. I want to do all of the things that make her happy. I turn to her to gripe about all of my day-to-day stresses because she will totally understand, but also call me on my shit. I think she’s gorgeous, smart, goofy, strong, empathetic, creative, and sexy. She knows all kinds of stuff. Abby just totally rocks my socks.

I met Abby on the 4th of July and we’ve been talking ever since. We both have a lot of constraints in our lives. We are both mothers, with kids around the same ages. We both have husbands, other partners, and friends in our lives. (In fact, we met because we both see Woody.) We are busy people with limited spoons. Abby has MS and she’s lost the ability to move her legs, so she’s in a wheelchair. I sometimes feel overwhelmed out in the world. Together we seem to augment each other in this awesome way.

I’m in love. If I try to examine it, it seems strange to be able to maintain a deep relationship over text messaging and occasional in person visits, but it’s working so far. I feel like Abby sees me – really, actually sees who I am as a person. This is such a rare an amazing quality. I think she’s psychic because she will sometimes text me out of the blue with exactly the thing I need to hear. How does she even do that?!? She brings me little presents all the time. She gave me a romantic card to invite me to a concert on Valentine’s Day. She makes me melt.

AbbyYet, despite occasional nerves when I’m about to see her, this isn’t just new relationship energy. It feels deeper than that. Yes, I’m twitterpated, but she’s also firmly in my heart. I keep wanting to know more, to immerse myself in her mysteries. I am basking in her love. We don’t have the urgency of new love, only the urgency that her physical condition will likely continue to deteriorate and we want to try all of the things while we can.

Learning Abby’s body has been both the same and different from other lovers. She’s so fucking strong. I love her scars because they tell a story and are a testament to her strength. I love how easily she lets go when my fingers touch her flesh, how much she trusts me with her vulnerability. I am profoundly touched by her trust in me. She was willing to go away with me over night, knowing that I would see both her physical and emotional weaknesses. She did it anyway. That’s my definition of strong.

And it gets better! Abby is kinky. Like maybe kinkier than me. We are both switchy. We haven’t played with power dynamics much, but I know that is there. I am looking forward to seeing what that looks like. I like the way she moans when I pull her hair. Abby put her whole hand in my cunt and I orgasmed what felt like forever. It was totally different than anything I’ve ever felt, freakishly amazing and intense. I’m surprised I didn’t break her hand. But then I had my hand inside of her and it was so sweet. Fisting sounds so harsh, but it’s incredible, like I was in her very center, experiencing everything she was feeling. She opened up for me.

Spending the weekend in a hotel with Abby made me face some of my weird buried issues about lesbian relationships. I’m very out in my life, but we all have assumptions and fears we aren’t normally even aware of. For me, it’s that men are good for things like cleaning up dog poop and and taking out the garbage. If two women are together without a man, who takes out the garbage? I know logically how ridiculous this is, but I also know it comes from my grandparents being married for 50 years and my Gramma not knowing how to take out the trash after he died. Even though we were treated with all kinds of respect, I get a little nervous presenting as a middle-aged lesbian couple. What if someone decides to beat the crap out of us?

AbbyDespite having had many girlfriends and having my own vagina, I am not as confident with women as I am with men. In my experience, guys tend to be more driven, or at least trained to be more assertive sexually. I’ve been in situations with women where we both kind of waited around to see what was going to happen. I am more sexually confident now, but I was still glad that Abby made moves on me!

Actually, Abby made the moves in the beginning too, expressing interest in me. If she hadn’t, I doubt I would have gotten to know her in the same way. Just in general, I am so thankful for Abby. We have fun together. I can’t believe how lucky I am that she is my girlfriend!

Nov 222014

Sexually shyThis morning I had the disturbing realization that I tend to explore new sexual relationships from the safety of a threesome. It makes sense in a polyamorous world. I don’t have enough time to spend alone with each of my lovers so why not economize? Or something. I also get very nervous about being in sexual situations alone with someone I don’t know very well, so a threesome lets me get to know someone gradually. You can learn a lot about someone by watching them interact with others. So I’ve been setting up playdates with multiple partners.

Actually, making love with multiple partners at once is the best thing ever. It never seems like there are enough hands, mouths, genitals to do all of the things with just two people. How awesome is it to have hands everywhere? I love the feeling of being overwhelmed by sensation. Having more people in bed means being more creative. It often means communicating more, but I feel more confident, less on the spot to perform.

Tied up

Photo by Shawna

I just didn’t know that I had a habit of arranging threesomes for my first naked times with partners. It’s not something that I’ve been conscious of doing, but I can see the pattern. 

Although Woody and I had made out and done some heavy petting, the first time I was naked with him was with Harold. That worked beautifully. Wood still calls Harold his boyfriend and they are very affectionate with each other. (Come to think of it, that’s also beneficial in a poly relationship – my partners liking each other!)

DW tied me up in his living room while Shawna took photos, but after that DW and I played alone. Still, I made love to Shawna with DW in an intensly mind-blowing way. That was an incredible experience because I was able to do things that I enjoy and get tips from DW and Shawna about what the other person might like – kind of native guides.

My first time with Abby was also with Woody. They are very sweet together. I feel so much tenderness toward them both and watching them together just melted my heart. But Abby is wicked! I Controlwanted to try her Magic Wand because I have limited experience. Abby operated the add-on controller while I held the Magic Wand. That was absolutely incredible. I like having my pleasure in her hands. The three of us were remarkably at ease with each other, naturally exploring bodies and what is possible to do together.

While it wasn’t a playdate, Harold and I went to a hot spring with Woody and Hobbit. There was a certain amount of sex play that happened during our time there. Something about hot naked people turns me on. At one point, Hobbit put her fingers inside me, each guy focused on a nipple, and I used my vibrator to a super orgasm. I love floating in desire – literally and figuratively.

Hot springsMaybe I shouldn’t worry too much about this trend. It seems to be working for me. Each of these trysts came about fairly organically. I do have some (probably legitimate) fears about being physically vulnerable when first exploring sexual relationships. Having been raped, I want to be as safe as possible, but my reasoning is not totally about that. I just like group sex. I like having the people I care about love each other. While I don’t ever want threesomes (or more!) to take the place of the intimacy possible between two people, I have to admit that I feel pretty lucky.

Oct 292014

Going downFor Harold

(On the occasion of his 66th birthday)

My dear,
My tweed demon, just one six short of dangerous,
My God, horned and horny in the woods,
The best friend I’ve ever had,
My co-conspirator, my muse,
My love…

So in loveHappy birthday.
I know you didn’t want a present,
I need to tell you what a gift you’ve been to me.

I am surprised to see that you are becoming an old man
(because I always see the you
you are inside)
I like the changes I see.
I would like you most any way.

I trust you.

You turn me on like crazy.
When you walk into a room,
Or give me that smile that’s just for me,
my cunt spasms.
PartnersI have to catch my breath.
Our eyes meet and I know you feel it too.
It’s the little things like that.

You give yourself to me over and over,
Deeper every time.
Like letting me use my knife to cut
your father’s shirt from your back
as we stood under the full moon.
Like handing me a mallet and spreading your legs.
Like letting the camera
document our love.
Like trusting me enough to ask for what you want
and trusting me enough to let me take charge.
Like being the girl to my boy.

Naked in natureI hope I am as generous in spirit as you.
You love me as I am,
honor every path I’ve taken,
and hold me to my own high standards.
It is a rare gift to hold both weakness and strength
in love.
In your eyes my hurts make me whole,
not broken.
You are a revelation.
I am reborn in your arms.

I do not have a gift to celebrate your entrance to this life.
Only words,
and a love that encompasses the universe.
You are my heart,
My dance partner, my dreamer, my daddy,
Male BeautyMy boy in the tall grass,
My first and last thought…

Happy birthday, Harold.
Have the best year of your life!
You seem to be picking up speed
and there are only 1097 days until the most epic oral sex party ever…

Oct 262014

Boots and cuffsThere are some really great things about being polyamorous. One of them was coming home around one in the morning (wearing only knee high boots and bondage cuffs) and having my partner, Joel, only cock an eyebrow and ask if I had a good time.

I had a fabulous time with DW! When I showed up at his door the kissing was passionate and intense. It lead to me, on my knees, appreciating the finer points of button-fly Levis. And then to DW buckling handcrafted black leather cuffs around my wrists. It made me very happy.

Cuffs and bootsWe went to a party full of poly folk. I realized how odd and awesome it is to not know who people are in relationships with. It’s different than most social situations where everyone is seen as part of a package. In fact, it felt strange for me to be at a party without one of my primary partners.

That didn’t stop me from ditching my clothes as soon as possible. I joined a cuddle pile. DW tied me up in beautiful ways and did things that made me come. I got the spanking I asked for, with people passing by the room. Have I mentioned that I like to kiss this man? When it was time to go, DW shook his head when I picked up my clothes, handing me his leather jacket instead. It felt deliciously deviant to go home that way!

So yes, Joel, I had a good time.
Sinful Sunday