Tag Archives: personal

G Spoon (and an update)

Hey everyone! It’s been a while. I haven’t been blogging as much on here lately, and you may be wondering why. I want to try to explain…and hopefully find my way back to this corner of the internet more often.

Part of the reason I haven’t been sex blogging much lately is that last year I lost both my mom and my partner’s mom, and I went through a period of grief when I didn’t do much of anything other than try to support my family and get through the days. I didn’t talk about it on here at all or even on social media really because I didn’t feel comfortable doing so, but I did eventually write a little about it on my other blog.

When I was finally able to get back into writing and photography, I felt passionately about veganism and health, and I ended up starting a new blog to focus on lifestyle topics like cooking, cruelty free beauty, vintage fashion, travel, etc. It’s not that I don’t care about sex anymore (I do!), it’s just that I found myself going in a different direction, and it felt easier to start anew with a fresh blog. It felt difficult to pick back up with this blog full speed as if nothing happened. Also obviously my sexuality was impacted, and though I do feel more like my old self again, for months the only toy I used was my beloved Hitachi.

I’m still interested in sexuality and sex toys, but I’ve been feeling burnt out, particularly on things like reviews that I don’t feel as passionately about anymore. I still like trying new toys, but I’m not interested in trying new toys just to try them, I only want to try things I’m fairly confident that I’ll love, otherwise my writing will be lackluster, and the toy will end up wasting space in my closet.

I do miss the parts of this blog that were my favorite though, like my (often creepy) self portraits, artistic sex toy photography, and erotic stories (damn, it’s been a while.) I had a ton of fun earlier this year when Ely and I shot nudes of each other at Hippie Hollow. I miss hanging out with my babely sex blogger friends at conferences and having amazing adventures like making our own glass dildos.

I have some ideas on how to get my groove back on this blog and have ideas for crossover topics. For example, I’m thinking about writing about menstrual cups on my lifestyle blog, instead of this one, because I think it’d reach people that may know less about the topic than my readers over here. I also think it’d be cool to bring parts of my other blog over here, and I have ideas for that as well. I’ve already done some with my vegan safter sex barriers and sex toys posts.

I’m also thinking about doing a spooky/sexy photo every day during October, if I can get enough inspiration and content next month.

I’m glad I took a break–I needed it, but I miss y’all! Can anyone relate? If you’re a regular reader, what do you like most about my blog? Any ideas for me? Let me know in the comments!

Also–back to the title of this post–I bought this g-spoon when I saw Epiphora tweet about Fucking Sculptures closing up shop. 🙁 I’m glad I was able to get one before it was too late, and I love this photo I created of it.

My First Time…In a Sex Shop Pt. 2: Age 18

The second time I went into a sex shop, when I was of legal age to actually buy something, was the summer after my senior year of High School.  My boyfriend wanted to buy me a “real” vibrator (I already had a “back” massager) since we were going to try a long distance relationship while I was off at college.

The store had big open windows and was bright and not intimidating, which was comforting, considering I was a little nervous this time around. There was one girl working, and when I asked for her opinion on a good toy, she walked me to the rabbit section. She wasn’t very helpful, but I don’t think she really could be, since this was before sex toys were legal in Texas & the products were supposedly for “educational” purposes.

I had my eye on a $100 rabbit, but my boyfriend only wanted to spend $50 or less, and after scanning the boxes I somehow I ended up with a blue Ultimate Beaver Vibrator, AKA the grossest thing I’ve ever put inside of my vagina. My experience trying to use it was unsettling to say the least.

Evil, vagina hating beaver.

It smelled funky, it was sticky, and the rotation confused me and felt incredibly weird and not in a good way. In more of a wtf is this, I am never buying a “real” vibrator again kind of way. On top of all that, it had a fucking cartoon face on the “head” and a fucking beaver attached to the shaft. Even more disturbingly, the beaver, whose tail is supposed to tickle your clit, seemed to be simultaneously giving the weird cartoon person oral.  What the fuck was I thinking? I can’t believe I bought that toy, and I can’t believe you can still buy it online if you decide you want to frighten and possibly poison your vagina. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that it was a jelly/PVC beaver from hell that probably leaked phthalates and who knows what other mystery chemicals into my poor tutu.

Yes, I just referred to my vag as a tutu. Orange is the New Black is the shit, and it’s cute and a hell of a lot better than beaver, muff, cooter, vajayjay or whatever else. Plus, I just wanted to make sure you were paying attention…

Anyways, that toy was nasty, and I’m lucky that using it was only emotionally damaging and not so much physically, since many women experience painful reactions when using jelly vibes, and all I felt was mild disgust and discomfort. Still, the beaver experience turned me off of internal sex toys for a long time. The next one I tried was about 4 years later, when I started working at a sex shop. And even after trying a few, I didn’t find any that I liked much until I’d already been working there for a couple of years.

Looking back though, I think the dildo gods were in my favor, since my somewhat traumatizing experience with the evil, vagina hating beaver saved me from years of potentially using more dangerous sex toys before I learned more about them and knew better.

And if we want to go along with that theory, I guess the dildo gods chose me to work at a sex store for a reason—so I could attempt to help guide other people’s orifices away from jelly and towards fun and safe materials like silicone and glass. Who knows though, I’m not going to pretend I understand the mysterious ways of the dildo gods.

*In case you don’t know which sex toys are potentially dangerous & which aren’t, check out these past posts:

Buying a Sex Toy: What You Need to Know

Dildology & Safe Sex Toys

P.S. If you have this vibrator and somehow like it, I’m sorry. Not for offending you, for your vagina.

*I wrote this story to support the Superhero Sex Shop Tour Indigogo campaign*

 

The Beginning

After drinks and dancing with friends on 6th street all night, I texted Jake to see if he was working and could give me a ride home. We’d only met a few nights before when I wrote down my number on a napkin at the pizza shop where he worked, but he seemed interested.

When we got to the parking lot at my apartment, he kissed me for the first time, his tongue swirling with mine as I softly gripped his face. He was overwhelming sexy with curly blonde hair, rough hands, and sincere confidence, and I wanted to invite him up, to have sex with him that night, but I was on my period, and I told him that. I wondered if he thought I was making it up as an excuse to wait, and I told him that as well. He said he believed me.

We sat in his Jeep talking for what seemed like hours. He told me he was from New York, he had moved to Austin about 4 years before, and had spent the majority of that time in a relationship that ended a few months prior. It didn’t seem like he was hung-up on her or dwelling in the past, it just seemed honest. I told him about how I moved here around the same time he did to go to UT, and how I’d recently returned from an unforgettable trip studying abroad in Argentina.

We talked music, and I lifted my black dress up to show him my Chili Peppers tattoo. I only later realized that he got a good look at my blue panties. The way he openly offered information and stories from his past made me feel like there must be deeper layers that he didn’t share so easily. We kissed goodnight, and I went upstairs alone.

The next day we went out to eat at Pluckers, a wing bar in walking distance of my apartment, and he told me more stories from New York, about how people often picked fights there and how everyone seems easier going in Texas. Our faces and fingers were messy with sauce the whole time; neither of us cared.

This time I invited him up afterwards, but I told him I was still on my period. I wondered if he thought I was weird for continuously bringing up, but I honestly just really wanted to have sex with him already and didn’t want the first time to be a bloody mess. He didn’t seem to mind.

After lots of making out and a few glasses of Fernet, he came up from behind me, one hand holding my chin and the other touching softly over my skirt. I moaned into him, wrapping my arms back around him, warmth budding between my legs at the thought of his fingers on my skin. I felt his own excitement growing beneath his jeans. He pulled my skirt up, tracing my lips over my cotton thong and pulling my mouth to his. As we kissed he moved beneath my panties, and everything faded except his fingers on my clit and his hot breath on my ear.

My orgasm came easily, as if it had been waiting patiently all along, and he was simply coaxing it out from inside of me. I was beyond impressed with his skill as well as my body’s deep response to his touch. I wanted more, and I wanted to return the favor. The blowjob I gave him on the futon after was rushed but thrilling since my roommate could come home at any moment and catch us.

A few days later I got a text from him inviting me to go watch a movie at his place. And this time my period was finally over…

wickedwed

This story was written in response to the “Memories” prompt for Wicked Wednesday.