After months of trying to figure out how to gush like a porn star, I managed to ejaculate! I’m one of those people that can’t stand not being able to do whatever I set my mind to. I’ve heard that not everyone can ejaculate, but I didn’t let months of attempting to squirt unsuccessfully stop me. And now? I totally rocked it!
Female ejaculation is apparently a mysterious thing – at least for people who are still debating whether or not a g-spot exists. No one seems to know what exactly gets ejaculated or from where. Current theory says that there is a gland near the g-spot similar to the prostate that secretes clear fluid. There are some great books and workshops that I’ve seen about the g-spot and female ejaculation, but I have to confess that I’ve relied on internet research for my information. And porn, of course.
It’s so cool to watch women gush. Years ago I had a girlfriend who would soak the fucking bed and I thought it was awesome. Why should cocks have all the fun? Pussies can proudly jizz too. I think that part of my desire to fountain is that no matter how earth-shattering my orgasm is, my partner still peers at me with concern and inquires if I’ve come. Baby, if I spray your face you’re going to KNOW that I came. Female ejaculation is visually and experientially impressive.
Gushing is like fisting – it’s about taking your time and feeling your body. It helps to have a partner who is into spending some time giving you pleasure. It’s also about opening up, relaxing, being in the moment. I tend to be kind of results driven, so it’s not always easy to be in that space, but we finally made it work.
I read that the easiest way to squirt was to stimulate the g-spot until that whole area becomes engorged, then to bear down as the feeling of orgasm approached. It helps to have your partner remove their hand, or toy, or cock. For me, this is difficult because when I am about to come I pull in, as though I am performing an extended kegel. I also tend to orgasm fairly quickly and we found that it took a while of massaging the g-spot to be ready. I had a couple of regular orgasms before I squirted.
I’d also heard that preparing to squirt feels like you need to pee. It wasn’t really like that for me, but I can see where that comes from. I guess that many women stop as soon as they feel like urinating because they don’t want to pee on their partner. I figure that if I am already trying to soak him, it makes little difference, but to be honest, it totally wasn’t like that.
We just took our time. I got over my worries that he would get bored and simply enjoyed the sensations. I started to feel warmer around my g-spot and more sensitive. It felt amazing! I used a vibrator on my clit. After what seemed like a long time, but was probably about 20 minutes (Harold’s wrist was just starting to get sore), I felt a kind of pressure building up. I focused on bearing down with my cunt. It felt totally counter intuitive and I really had to think about it. When I felt like I was going to come I told Harold, he moved his hand back, and I squirted!
The jet sprayed only a few inches beyond my cunt, not the fountain I had fantasized about, but it was a success! Harold got really excited. It was kind of anti-climactic (literally!) for me. It didn’t feel like an orgasm. In fact, I couldn’t even tell that anything had happened. I wasn’t excited until Harold showed me the big wet spot that I had created. I squirted!
The scientist in me can’t wait to try again. Can I duplicate my results? Will prolonged stimulation of the g-spot result in a more forceful ejaculation? Can I get myself to gush using toys? Can I repeat the experiment and have it feel more like an orgasm? I’m so excited to find out now that I finally squirted!
Book: Say Please
Editor: Sinclair Sexsmith
Publisher: Cleis Press, April 2012
Retail: $14.95
Sinclair Sexsmith, the editor of the new Say Please anthology of lesbian BDSM erotica, is calling their book release tour the DIRTY QUEER SEX TOUR, and I’m so happy to be participating! I wasn’t sure what to expect from Say Please, but I was delighted by the wide swathe of kink that this literary erotica cut through my imagination. I’m always interested in the myriad ways that gender expresses itself and Say Please is full of variety. The BDSM quotient zoomed through all of my favorites (except CBT, for obvious reasons) and right into areas that pushed my comfort levels. In other words, it was so hot to read that I had to get myself off.
Because it turned me on so much, I showed some of my favorite stories from Say Please to Harold and asked him to share his thoughts and feelings on them. For reference, we are polyamorous – partnered to each other and married to others. Depending on the day, I identify as pansexual, queer, or hard femme. Harold is still looking for the right boy (which is to say, mostly straight, but wistful). It was hard to pick just three stories, but I did. Here are our opinions of a few of the fantastic stories in this book:
First Ride, by Wendi Kali
Evoë:
Some of my favorite kinks – A motorcycle, chain bondage, flogging, hard packing, and strap-on sex! I’m delighted. It’s hot, hot, hot! I love this story because it’s a study in opposites – the hard, experienced butch and the soft, inexperienced femme. I like how all of the subtext of their conversations is evident in the story. It feels very intimate for the reader.
Harold:
This story (and many of the others) reminded me how much of gender is in our heads. This butch is a gentleman indeed, as well as a hot, skillful top. And the sweet, innocent (!) young woman who wants more experience… we play these roles because it all works so well. The echoes that I heard here which I miss in corresponding straight narratives, though, are about the vulnerabilities we all feel, but that sexual conventions too often mask.
Unworthy As I Am, by Elizabeth Thorne
Evoë:
So romantic! Within a few paragraphs the main character is comparing herself to a Shakespearean heroine, which I find very sexy. This story portrays submission and masochism beautifully, and I’m happy to read a story that deals with needle play too. I like the symbolism of the invasive nature of needles in a book about lesbian sex – just another non-standard way to penetrate. And collaring is the BDSM equivalent of the engagement ring. This story is so sweet.
Harold:
This story was the most intensely, viscerally sexy for me, no doubt because I’ve found myself in a similar place of passionate surrender. Is it hard for me as a somewhat het guy to identify entirely with a gay woman? Um, no! And the story unfolded gracefully, with just the right balance of contextual detail. A tour de force!
A Slap in the Face, by Rachel Kramer Bussel
Evoë:
I think this was the most intense story in the anthology, and that’s saying a lot because they are all pretty amazing. Partly it held me riveted because I find slapping somewhat taboo and therefore fascinating, partly I found the character development seductive. Yes, it’s a short story, but I was charmed by the emotional progression. I appreciate the safeword explanation and appreciate that there is not a strap-on used in this story, although it’s implied that there will soon be some strap-on play. It makes me want to follow these two women home!
Harold:
This powerful story put me in a place I often end up reading edgy BDSM erotica: wondering about the origins of the kink. I love and understand the heat, the almost unbearable turn-on that just the right mix of fear and pain can arouse, but I also sense roots winding back to some childhood trauma no child deserves. I salute the healing power of hot and loving kink, but it scares me, still, about what it is to be human.
Want to hear more about Sinclair Sexsmith’s Say Please, Lesbian BDSM Erotica DIRTY QUEER SEX TOUR? Check out these stops on the physical and virtual tour!
April 1 Say Please release party in SF
April 1 Viviane http://www.thesexcarnival.com
April 3 Rachel Kramer Bussel http://lustylady.blogspot.com
April 4 Giselle Renard http://donutsdesires.blogspot.com
April 5 Evoë Thorne http://www.wholesexlife.com
April 6 Liz http://AlphaHarlot.com
April 9 Roma Mafia http://www.romamafia.com
April 10 Official release date! Sinclair http://www.sugarbutch.net
April 11 Dede / deviantdyke http://deviantdyke.blogspot.com/
April 12 Helena Swan http://www.cuntext.com
April 13 Kim Herbel http://www.butchlesque.com
April 13 Say Please release party in NYC
April 14 Lily Lloyd http://theblackleatherbelt.com
April 16 Lyzanne http://sexpositive.tumblr.com/
April 17 Lula Lisbon http://lulalisbon.tumblr.com
April 18 Ali Oh http://www.madeofwords.com
April 19 Jameson http://www.ftmbutchdude.com
April 21 Charlie Ninja http://charlieninja.tumblr.com/
April 22 Say Please release party in Boston
April 22 Meredith Guy http://meridithguy.tumblr.com
April 23 Wendi Kali http://astrangerinthisplace.blogspot.com
April 24 Lolita Wolf http://leatheryenta.com
April 25 Audrey at Babeland http://babeland.com/blog
April 26 Seth B http://smokebellyscorner.wordpress.com
April 27 Danika http://www.lesbrary.com
April 28 DL King http://www.dlkingerotica.com
April 29 Kiki http://kikidelovely.wordpress.com
April 30 Dilo Keith http://dilokeith.wordpress.com/blog-2/
April 30 Xan West http://tgstonebutch.livejournal.com/
May 2 Say Please release party in Seattle
I’ve always been pretty happy with my vagina. In the last few years though, I’ve been wondering what it would feel like to have a penis. I’ve had a chance to play with dildos that gave me an idea of what it would be like to have an erect penis, but what about the rest of the time? How would it feel to have a bulge in my pants? What if I need to shift my package? What would I do if some cute person felt me up? I finally got a chance to find out when Babeland sent me a Soft Pack recently.
Soft Pack is a very lifelike artificial cock and balls. There are even veins just under the surface of the “skin.” It’s made out of Real-feel Superskin – I’m not sure what that is, but if feels amazing! It is a bit sticky, but everything I read said to dust it with a bit of cornstarch and that seems to help. Just be aware that it will pick up everything it comes in contact with. Which, of course, might be your goal. The magnetic properties of Soft Pack could totally help you find the right person.
This packer comes in two skin tones: Vanilla and Mocha. I went with Vanilla, which is paler than even my skin color. You also get four sizes to choose from. Despite being a size queen, I went with small, which is 5.75 inches from base to tip. This is a perfect size for me. It’s somewhat larger than most men would be while soft, big enough to leave a bulge in pants, yet not unwieldy. I don’t want to try to manage too much length, like the 7.75 inch length of the large! Who is that big when flaccid?
The squeeze test is the real indicator – can this cock pass as real when someone feels you up? I think so. It feels amazing through underwear. The size and materials make Soft Pack feel more semi-erect than soft, but totally authentic (and I am qualified to judge). I love playing with my new penis. I like letting it hang out of my pants. I’m pretty much insufferable with a cock. The balls are not really right. They are too small and I want testicles that slide around, but in pants they work just fine. I touch myself constantly.
Soft Pack sits just right in my boxer briefs – no need for straps, harnesses, or glue. It’s very comfortable. The base of the penis is hollowed out to create a mild suction cup. I haven’t tried strenuous exercise or dancing around, so it may require more for those kinds of activities. I haven’t figured out yet if I hang more to the right or the left. And for some reason, it’s much harder to fish my own dick out of underwear than someone else’s. Soft Pack is more rubbery.
At the price Babeland sells Soft Pack for ($16-$22) it’s worth getting one to play around with, regardless of your gender. Even people who already have penises might want to try out a more dramatic profile. Imagine the glances you’ll get!
Bottom line: Come on, you know you want a Soft Pack.
Grade: A
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Store clerks seem confused by me. PTA moms radiate disapproval. Small children stare at me with wide eyes. All I did was shave my head. Why is this such a big deal? It is though. My buzz cut seriously messes with people’s perceptions. The belief that females have longer hair is deeply ingrained in our culture. My slightly femme presentation paired with extremely short hair tends to provoke the weirdest responses.
I’ve gotten used to it. It’s been two months since we shaved my head. My hair is an inch long now. I’ve stopped wearing hats everywhere. I’m just me, so it takes me a while to remember why people might look at me funny. And they do! Not everyone, but often enough. Parents are suspicious of me when I drop one of my kids off for a birthday party or play date. Guess I might be “one of those” people.
I think that if I presented more butch, people would be more comfortable. I would fit into a stereotype that makes sense to people, even if it isn’t acceptable to them. I’ll have to try the experiment to see. People just can’t seem wrap their minds around a feminine person wanting really short hair. They tend to assume that I’m fighting cancer or something. I’ve even been mistaken for Joel’s brother in a photo where I was naked. That’s some serious denial!
I love my hair this short! My youngest likes to run her hand over my hair as she falls asleep. It’s sweet. All of my lovers have mentioned how much they adore me like this, although to be fair, they liked my hair long as well. My hair is never in my face and dries very quickly. It’s pretty easy to take care of, but drives me insane because it tweaks in all directions. Who knew that inch-long hair could be so difficult?
It’s hardest to be grey. I’ve been dying my hair for so long that I had no idea just how grey my hair was. I’m too young to be so grey and I want to look as young as I am. I look totally different with my natural color. It makes me feel hard – more butch than just short haired.
It’s an interesting lesson for me. I would have thought that I could have my hair any way I want and people would treat me the same. I didn’t realize how deep and unconscious the stereotypes are. Still, it doesn’t matter: I’m going to be me. And if I happen to help people challenge some assumptions, so much the better.
I had my whole hand inside of her body. I keep thinking that. Last night I worked my whole hand into her cunt. It was so amazing. Fisting is incredible. I can’t get over how close I feel to her, even now. She’s so beautiful. I’m so lucky. I had my whole hand inside her.
She showed up last night after the children were asleep, bearing lambic and dark chocolate. I told her that I felt unworthy of her affection, having only Folgers and cheap sulfite-free wine to offer such a goddess. She kissed my doubts away. We curled up on the bed, talking and stroking exposed bits of flesh.
I love her eyes. And her wicked smile. She has many different smiles that say a multitude of things, but I especially like the one that lets me know that she has done something very clever and deliciously bad. Usually to my benefit. Then there’s her hands, her fingers lacing in and out of mine while we talk.
We caught up on the last couple of weeks and discussed our other relationships. It’s nice to share with each other about all of the love we have in our lives. We talked about sex. Then I pin her to the bed and ask what she can’t live without in sex. I imagine the things she might detail, perhaps oral sex or orgasms or pain, but I’m surprised when she answers: connection. OMG, I’m in love. Of course connection is why I have sex. I want to know someone through sex. I’m so in love.
We’re still new to each other. We are learning each other’s bodies and preferences. I wanted to go down on her in a major way, but I was nervous. I haven’t actually had a lot of practice at cunnilingus, especially recently. I got all shy and awkward telling her what I wanted, yet warning her that I’m fairly inexperienced. She looked baffled for a moment, as though unsure how to respond before reassuring me that that she wouldn’t judge me too harshly. It made me laugh.
Determined to give it a good go, I worked my way down her body, kissing, sucking, and biting. Her cunt is gorgeous. She has 3 rings through one side of her labia. It’s just perfectly right. I nuzzled around in her pubic hair, taking in her earthy scent. I thought about what I like in oral sex and tried to do the same on her. I took my time and explored. It turned me on. As things heated up, I found myself with my whole face buried in her cunt, licking with wild abandon, following her rhythms. After she came, I kissed her, everything a juicy mess.
Then I wanted to be inside her. The vagina is such a mysterious and amazing place. She is so hot. I slipped a couple of fingers in and worked up to my whole hand with lots of lube and erotic play. I found myself glad that I had trimmed and filed my nails and worried that it hadn’t been enough. Her body writhing and contracting around my hand filled me with intense awe. I was so grateful to her for allowing me in, for sharing herself with me. I wanted to fill her and surround her and melt through her.
I thought that she should go to sleep then, but that wicked grin showed up. My turn. She explored my cunt, letting me know that she thought I was beautiful. What she thinks matters a lot to me because of my abuse history and having given birth 5 times. I am not always comfortable with my body. I was absurdly touched by her gaze and her compliments. Then she did wicked things with her mouth.
I’m not exactly sure what she did. Her mouth latched on to my clit and she rode my bucking pelvis until I came, hard and fast. My new favorite thing is her eyes looking at me while the rest of her face is obscured by my pubic hair. Have I mentioned that I’m in love? Because as soon as I’d come, she rode the waves of that orgasm straight into the next. Then I held my beautiful girl in my arms and she looked very smug. Deservedly so.
There’s a certain satisfaction to snuggling down in bed, with the smell of sex everywhere and a naked woman pressed against me. I felt at peace in the darkness for the first time in a while. This morning we woke early so she could go to work. I allowed myself the luxury of falling back to sleep, smelling her scent on the sheets. I’ve got it bad.
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Sugar Butch & Butcher
Last night I was privileged to attend a workshop at the CSPC in Seattle called “Owning Your Birthday Suit: Embodiment for Queers,” facilitated by Sinclair Sexsmith (of Sugarbutch) and Amy Butcher. It was designed to be a safe space for kinksters, freaks, and sexual outlaws to explore the powerful connection between genitals, heart, and mind. This workshop borrowed principles from Tantra and The Body Electric, in both of which the presenters have a strong background. As serious and hardcore as this all sounds, I had a lot of fun.
The bulk of our time was spent on experiential exercises. With a different partner each time, we explored eye contact, saying no, giving an authentic yes/no answer, feeling where energy is blocked in our bodies, sensing where the erotic lives in the body, our genital/heart connection, and connection to each other. We experimented with asking for touch that we wanted then receiving it, as well as giving touch to someone else in the manner they desired.
Sinclair and Amy suggested that erotic play could be approached as a series of experiments, with no commitment to outcomes. I love this! This is totally how I handle sex. It’s so much less stressful to simply try something out to see how it works. Approaching new things this way has opened up many doors for me that I might not have otherwise explored.
I also liked their many suggestions for ways to be mindful or embodied. Things like, breathe and go outdoors. I think staying connected to life helps in staying connected to the erotic. Also, daily meditative practice. Which can include mindful masturbation. I can get behind that!
All night long, the back of my brain has been assimilating everything I learned at this workshop. We drove directly home, discussing the experience on the way, then we went right to bed. I thought about what my body wanted and asked Harold to hold me, rather than getting into my side of the bed. I tumbled into his arms and burst into tears. It was the culmination of a full day, with difficult medical procedures early on, but also just the sheer kindness of being held. Harold holding that space for me and giving me the touch I needed, opened me up to release the sadness I had been holding in my body. I felt that I was truly owning my birthday suit.
In the middle of the night I lay awake thinking about how much embodiment informs my parenting style. There are so many things that parents must say no to for safety reasons: no, don’t touch the hot stove; no, don’t poke your brother with that stick; no, you can’t sleep over at your friend’s house because her parents are alcoholic and abusive. I try to think of all of the ways that I can say yes. Maybe I can let my children help me come up with alternatives that are acceptable to everyone: wow, feel how hot the stove is from here; let’s sword-fight with sticks instead of poking; why don’t we have your friend come over here? I want my children to really listen when I have to say no. The rest of the time, I want them to feel that they own themselves.
This plays into mindfulness in parenting. Mindfulness is really being present in the moment – awareness. I realize that I am very busy and tend to start ordering things around my children, without really seeing them. So, I mindfully practice embodiment by spending time with each child, every day by meeting them where they are. It’s not always easy. I tend to want to think about a work problem rather than making the elephant talk or hearing about what elves do, but my children are really interesting people. They deserve my consciousness. This means that I love and accept them (and give them attention) for who they are.
Embodiment also affects my parenting in terms of physical affection. My children know that they own their bodies in a way that I did not. They ask for touch that they want: give me a hug, blow on my tummy, kiss my owie. And my kids feel comfortable telling me no: aw, Mom, stop hugging me! Sometimes they suggest something else: Momma, you can pat my back. On my part, I work to not endure touch that is uncomfortable for me. For example, when the little one needs to be held in the middle of the night, I happily give my love, but I also make sure that I am comfortable. I don’t need a crick in my neck or a sore back.
I guess all of this parenting stuff is alive for me because if we all grew up knowing that our bodies belong to us, without shame for our sexuality, that we could say yes or no as we desired, feeling in our bones that we are worthy of respect – would we need workshops like the one I attended last night? The term birthday suit reminds us that we are born in perfection. It’s all of the things that wound us as children that take the rest of our lives to unlearn. I’ve spent my entire adult life working on owning my birthday suit, yet I continually learn more. It was an amazing workshop. I just want to be carrying this message forward.
Owning Your Birthday Suit: Embodiment for Queers is really just the briefest of introductions to a whole world of erotic study, but I feel that Sinclair and Amy did a fabulous job at making it fun, relevant, and accessible. This queer grrrl is feeling both embodied and empowered.
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I consider myself pansexual and genderqueer, but over the past few years I’ve presented more like a straight woman. I have two male partners and a passel of kids. Sure, I have a crew cut, but I can be pretty femme. I’m polyamorous, but I haven’t really dated at all in the past 4 years. I was busy helping to forge our family. Then I’ve been doing all of my intense emotional work. And WholeSexLife takes up a lot of my time. But I’ve had a few people on my radar, just waiting for the right moment.
Blyss is a good friend who I’ve been flirting heavily with for a couple of years. We’ve had a chance to get to know each other and build some basic trust, with some sexual teasing mixed in for interest. When she moved out of state recently I figured that I’d missed my chance. But then she wrote me a letter and kept sending me messages online. I was touched – and interested. I saw Blyss around Christmas time and invited her to have sex with Harold and I and to take pictures for the website. She was totally interested, but then had to cancel.
I saw her last week and all of my boi stuff kicked into high gear. In a fit of bravado and sexual interest, I asked Blyss to come and spend the night with me. I even asked in front of one of her other partners and one of mine. I didn’t even think about it – I wanted her.
Later, I freaked out a bit – What was I thinking? (That I wanted to spend time with her.) I don’t know how to make love to a woman! (Not true. I’ve done it before.) What if she canceled again? (Always possible, but not the end of the world.) I spent all week thinking about the upcoming date. I went to trim my nails to lesbian standards and couldn’t find any clippers. I ran out and purchased 3 sets of clippers. I cleaned my bedroom. I bought sexy new panties. I put clean sheets on the bed. I arranged roses and candles. I went through my sex toys trying to think of using them on a female. In short, I was anxious and obsessive. Thankfully, Harold didn’t mind that I talked a lot about Blyss.
Just before Blyss was supposed to arrive I gave up. I decided I couldn’t do it. Then she came through the door and everything was okay. She has such a beautiful way of making everything good. It helped soothe much of my awkwardness. We did normal homey things like eating dinner and reading a bedtime story to the kids.
Then we talked and talk and talked. Blyss is brilliant and sensitive. We giggled. And the boi kicked in again. I wanted to make love to this woman. Enough talking, I pounced. We rolled around, kissing, exploring each other with mouths and hands. She left hickeys on my neck. She has amazing breasts. I loved doing things to her nipples that make her squirm and squeal. I was reminded of how much I adore cunts. She likes to be stretched, so I worked up to four fingers, curling and pressing. I added clit rubbing and nipple stim until she came. SO amazing!
Strangely, sex with a woman really isn’t any different than sex with a man. People are people. It has me thinking about how passive I have traditionally been in my relationships – I have let men take the lead and then decided whether or not to follow. It is a cultural gender paradigm that I was following without thought. With women, I have often felt awkward, waiting to see who would make a move. I’m proud to say that this time, I made a move.
After that, I had to fuck her! I found my two-way and buried my cock in her cunt. The brilliant thing about the two-way is that I get both g-spot and clitoral stimulation with it. I actually orgasmed fucking her, only MY cock stayed hard. I felt like such a boi, needing to bone the beautiful girl. The energy was fantastic. 
Sadly, at that point I was getting really tired. Probably all of the oxytocin being released into my system from the orgasms. I had to ask Blyss if she would be offended if we went to sleep. We cuddled up. I woke much the same way in the morning. I worked from bed, holding her hand, and watching her sleep, marveling at my good fortune to have such an amazing person in my bed.
When she woke, we made breakfast for the children. We sat and talked. She left for work. It all felt so smooth and natural. Seamless in a way that I always long for. It was my girlfriend experience. It’s early yet, but I can see possibilities in this relationship. I’ve invited Blyss back again.
Other posts that might interest you:
- Book tour: Say Please, edited by Sinclair Sexsmith
- I kissed a girl
- Blood, Sweat, and Queers
- Gender fluidity
Book: “A Year of Sex”
Author: Mia Martina
Where to buy: Amazon Kindle, Barnes & Noble Nook, Apple iBooks, and Google Books
Mia Martina’s debut memoir is brilliant! I devoured the whole book in one rainy Sunday. I generally like reading about sex, but what really drew me in was her brutal honesty about herself, how appealing she is as a person. It’s easy to care about her ups and downs over the course of a year of sexploits and relationships because she seems real. Her voice is so authentic, I want to be her friend. It helps that I can totally identify with her experiences, but I’ve never read anything like this before.
Mia offers some of the best observations I’ve ever heard about sex parties. In her book she says, “Just because you can get naked and fuck doesn’t mean you’ll want to do it.” and “I’m learning that the unknowns about couples’ dynamics are the most interesting part of attending sex parties.” Both very true, in my experience. She does a great job of examining all aspects of a sex-positive lifestyle.
“A Year of Sex” is well written, which is a turn-on in itself. While the sexual content is fabulous and hot, Mia’s story it isn’t like typical erotica; it’s real life, where sex is seldom zipless or seamless. This story titillates, but is dedicated to authenticity, not getting you off (but don’t worry, there’s a happy ending). I even loved the bonus materials: a glossary of sex terms, tips for attending sex parties, music suggestions, and resources for further research. Like parting from a lover after a weekend of bliss, I’m left feeling turned on, emotionally engaged, and sated while yearning for more.
A couple of my favorite names in porn, Courtney Trouble and Jiz Lee, have declared October 21st, Fisting Day. Fisting is the act of inserting a whole hand into the vagina or anus. While fisting is a beautifully intense sexual act, it is rarely depicted in porn because mainstream distributors won’t show it. Courtney and Jiz are coming out to say that hand sex is amazing. We want to support them in that stance.
I’ve never done any anal fisting, but I’ve experimented with vaginal fisting. It started about 5 years ago with my girlfriend handing me a copy of A Hand in the Bush by Deborah Addington. I read it cover to cover. And then my husband read it. It’s not a very long book, but it covers the world of vaginal fisting quite well. Sadly, I never did any fisting with that girlfriend, but I owe her a debt of gratitude for the introduction.
My first “hands on” experience was with my husband’s girlfriend. I loved playing with her because it was so easy to get her off. One evening, after a dozen or so g-spot orgasms, I started slowly easing my whole hand inside her. That moment when the widest part of my hand slipped inside, her eyes widened and met mine. There was such an intense connection between us. I can’t imagine a better way to feel that close to another human being.
It’s harder for me to be receptive with fisting. I have found that it’s a very good thing to do if I’m not in the mood for fucking, but want to feel close. Harold and I have been exploring fisting. Generally, we start with an orgasm or two, then he slowly uses his hands, tongue, and a some tools, like vibrators and nipple clamps to turn me on and stretch out my cunt. It takes us about 45 minutes to get to the point where he pushes past the wide part of his hand.
Harold’s hands are rather large. He has long elegant fingers. When we get to that point where his whole hand could go in, it tends to be a bit uncomfortable. I’ve only been able to relax enough to pleasure through it a few times. I’m usually goal-driven rather than open. And sometimes I can’t handle anything in sex that reads like pain. But when it has worked… astounding. Breathtaking. Totally hot. Lovely. Like a closed circuit between us.
Even though we don’t always go all the way, I adore fisting. I like the feeling of fullness. I like permission to focus on me sexually in a context that I don’t feel guilt over. It’s just what the process is. My job is to relax, open up, and feel good. It’s amazing stress reduction and fabulous for our relationship. I’m opening up in more than one way.
Still with me? Think you might want to try some fisting? If this is your first time, Babeland has a good easy guide for how-to, Vaginal Fisting. Be sure and use lots of lube! Take off your rings and trim your nails. And have fun. Happy Fisting Day everyone!
Today is National Coming Out day (recognized internationally)— a day for people to honor and celebrate sexualities that are sometimes dangerous to embrace publicly. October 11th is the anniversary of the 1987 National March on Washington for Lesbian and Gay Rights. In 1987 I was 14 and being raised by lesbians. Things have changed a lot since then. I am so grateful to everyone who marched or in other ways were open about who they are. So many courageous people have taken huge risks to make it safer for my children to be whoever they end up being.
WholeSexLife is all about normalizing all kinds of sex. We support just about anything consenting adults choose to do with each other: We support people’s right to express their unique gender identity, we support solo sex, partnered sex, multi-partnered sex, and in some cases, no sex, and we support everyone’s right to own their bodies. The brilliant thing about National Coming Out Day is that it gives us each a chance to say who we are, for the world to see. I believe that even that small thing helps change the world in massive ways.
So… I, Evoë Thorne, am a kinky, polyamorous, pansexual, gender queer femme with an emerging masculine side. I enjoy bondage, cock and ball torture, and anal play. I consider myself married to two men. I am attracted to people of all genders – or rather, I am attracted to people, not gender.
No shocking revelations there, but I think it’s important for me to own my sexual identity. My sexuality is also constantly evolving. It’s useful to think through it from time to time. It’s good to say, this is who I am and I’m proud to be this person. So celebrate National Coming Out Day with us and think about your sexual self. Share those thoughts with someone else. Share them here. Shout them out loud! But be proud.
