Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Understated Yet Elegant

Product: Striped Bustier Set
Manufacturer: Escante
Material: 90% Nylon, 10% Elastic
Comes With: Bustier, Thong, Hosiery

Cleaning: You'll want to hand wash this set in cold water and hang to dry. If necessary, you can iron in on the lowest setting.

When I’m buying lingerie online from a sex toy retailer, it’s a lot different then being able to walk up to an item in a shop, touch it, try it on, gawk at yourself for half an hour before having it wrapped up and getting out the door.

I wasn’t too sure what to expect when I ordered the stripped bustier, and I spent considerable time debating and mulling over the sizing. Let’s face it, that’s the biggest difficulty in shopping for any sort of clothing online – you can’t try it on, go bigger, go smaller, go anything. It is what it is, and it is yours.

While trying to decide what size to buy, I made up a little chart to help make that choice easier – here’s where I fall in relation to Escante’s sizing chart.

I ultimately chose to go for the small, even though my measurements fell twice into the medium category, and my hips were in the large category.


The most important feature of any lingerie (for me) is the bust. I have relatively small boobs, and while I love every inch of them, there’s nothing less sexy than a sagging unfilled cup. If my boobs don’t look good, you can bet your ass I’m not going to wear it. Honestly, I might just not put it on at all, and it will stay forever hidden at the bottom of my closet.

To say the least, I’m happy to find that the small fits me like a glove; no unsightly bulges or squeezing, and even if it’s a bit of a bitch to get off, well, it’s worth it while it’s on.

Which is my only issue with this bustier – I enjoy those that come with a zipper or a hook-release element. There’s nothing I enjoy less than having to squeeze lingerie over my head or down past my hips to get the darn thing off. No matter the shape, size, or type, I like lingerie that gives you that easy-off method. It’s a small negative, especially since its not a given for bustiers, but the few others I’ve had in the past have all had this feature, and it’s one I miss here.

When I finally got this little number on, I gave RS a sneek-peek in the early afternoon - a teaser of what was to come later that night. He was more than happy to turn that little peek into a very long gaze. The only thing he wasn’t too hot on was the colour, said it looked a little bland and boring on the hanger. But once it was on, he said I looked like “a high-end stripper” – his words not mine. There’s definitely nothing that feels cheap about this set – I had the urge to curl my hair, paint my nails, and find the right jewelry to accent the ensemble. I can't remember the last time I had this much fun getting ready for bed.

Despite RS’ initial reaction to the colour, I personally love the neutral tones and the shimmering stripes –  it complements my summer tan quite nicely actually. Perhaps once winter comes I’ll be ready to dye the set a deep hue and give it new life.

Overall, this stripped bustier set is a great addition to my lingerie collection, and even after wearing it a couple of times the novelty of it just hasn’t worn off, and I don’t suspect it will anytime soon.


product picture
Bustier by Escante
Material: Nylon / Elastic
This product was provided free of charge to the reviewer.

Reunited - And It Feels So Good!

I've spent the last few days in a state of near ultimate bliss. I'm home, back in my own comfortable space, sleeping in my own beautiful bed, and living alongside the man I love. I’m back where I belong, and RS has made sure I know it.

When I came home Thursday afternoon, our change in travel plans brought us in a few hours earlier than RS would be off work. From 2:30 until 5:00, I counted down, minute by minute. Turns out RS wouldn't be home until nearly 5:45 that night, and those extra forty-five minutes seemed an eternity. When he did finally make it home, the wait was certainly worth it – I wrapped my legs around him and made him carry me around while he tried to unload his work gear.

We’ve spent the past few days perpetually intertwined, holding hands and exchanging displays of affection anytime and anywhere. We’re having sex in much the same way - whenever there’s a moment we can sneak away, off we go.

We’ve also rekindled our love of morning sex – there’s absolutely nothing better than falling asleep after sex and waking right back up to it.

I’m getting back into the swing of regular day to day life. I’m answering emails again and thinking about my exams at the end of the week. I haven’t unpacked yet, and each morning I promise RS that today’s the day it will get done, but five days later, it’s still sitting there.

Perhaps I’m trying to hold on to my vacation as a reminder of the power of space and distance in a relationship and the loss of the erotic in the face of constant availability and perpetual accessibility. Perhaps that bag laying sprawled across the bedroom floor is a reminder that it doesn’t take much to reignite passion and affection, and I’m trying to hold onto that for as long as possible.

Or I’m just lazy as shit some days.

Perhaps today will be the day it finally gets done.


Thursday, July 19, 2012

Yes, We're Halfway There

Today is the half-way mark of my vacation. We’ve been here a week, and in one more we’ll be on our way home again. I’ve been thoroughly enjoying lounging around in my bathing suit and getting some much needed sun, and the lake is sure as hell a beautiful sight to wake up to every morning.

But day after day I become more aware of the fact that RS is at home, that life goes on as usual for him while time stands still here. We text whenever we can and talk on the phone every second day or so, but it just doesn’t seem like enough.

When I finally tucked into bed last night, I felt lost. I laid there for three hours, just staring at the ceiling, numb. But when 3am hit, I lost it. I cried until I couldn’t breathe, and I just couldn’t stop. All of my self-calming methods went straight out the window, and I didn't even try to catch them on their way out. My roommates slept on, unaware while I lay there convinced I was surely dying – surely you can die of loneliness.

After a half hour of non-stop bawling, I finally decided to do something I hadn’t done since I was a child: I went and crawled into bed with my Mum.

As all Mothers do, she gave me a hug, a pillow, and a Tylenol to help me sleep. We talked for an hour until the Tylenol kicked in, and it just made everything better. Tucked into bed listening to her tell me all about the novel she’s reading, the numbness goes away and the feeling comes back. The tears dry up.

Two weeks isn’t very long, but each year it seems more so than the one before. I’m accustomed to feeling RS hug me tightly each morning before he leaves for work and waiting anxiously for him to return home to me all day long. I’m used to having him in arms reach, having him there to gather me up in his arms for the smallest kiss and there to tackle me to the floor and tickle me until I’m laughing uncontrollably and screaming for him to stop.

The simple truth is that I miss him.

I miss him more than I thought I would. I’m missing my best friend, the person I share countless inside jokes with that just don’t make sense without him here to laugh at them. Don't get me wrong, I’m my own individual and I’m fully capable of surviving as an individual without RS, but I don’t want to. I'm a better individual with him beside me, and who would want to give that up, even for just a moment?

Distance makes the heart grow fonder; I just keep telling myself so, reminding myself that in one week’s time I’ll be home with him again and we’ll be refreshed and reminded to treasure and rejoice in each other each day.

Tonight is another night. I've already taken my Tylenol, and I’ve talked to RS for two hours, clogging the phone line for as long as my family would allow. When we talk I feel better. I hear his voice and close my eyes, and I feel him. We laugh and joke, and for one hour and 59 minutes, I’m happy.

But in that final minute, goodbye comes again.

O blissful Tylenol-induced sleep, here I come.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Knot That Hard After All

Product: Two Knotty Boys Showing You the Ropes

When RS and I first started talking about bondage, we immediately set our sights on rope bondage, and decided that was a direction we were both definitely interested in going. As a carpenter and general construction man, RS was good with knots and already had the rope skills to complete many basic knots and techniques. I, however, didn’t learn to tie my shoes until I was seven, and could never master anything much more complicated than that.

We picked up the popular Two Knotty Boys: Showing You the Ropes book after reading through some of the recommendations of the review community. Once I had the book in my hands, I was happy to see just how step-by-step each technique actually was. Experts often take for granted that small details are ‘common sense’ and assume that readers know more than they do. It’s these small details that cause the most frustration for beginners, and I’m happy to report, that this book was truly zero frustration from beginning to end – there are more than enough pictures to guide you through your chosen technique, and nothing is assumed by the writers.

The images in this book are truly its most defining feature, but it’s a shame that they weren’t done in colour. The black and white nature of the photographs certainly don’t prevent you from understanding and learning the techniques, but for a book which relies so heavily on imagery you’d expect high-quality colour images.

RS and I actually learned rope-work in a highly unconventional way; without a willing third-party participant to practice on, we went up into the attic and pulled out the old, decaying fashion model our family had picked up at a yard sale somewhere in the distant past. Not good for much, she had been banished to the attic for too many years to count. I clothed her in black leggings and an old black long-sleeved sweater, and with black socks, winter gloves, and a baklava secured backwards over her head, she was a vision of possibilities.

The book begins with a lot of important information in terms of rope safety, and gives a lot of detailed information on types of rope and how to maintain it – really all the basics for anyone who has no idea about rope-work. I still reference those first few chapters whenever I need a quick reminder. After that, the book teaches the fundamental knots that prove the building blocks of each and every other technique that will follow in the book – so if nothing else, get these down pat before you do anything else. Practice, practice, practice! I promise, it makes everything else you’ll do later easier.

After the section on basic knots, the book covers basic bondage techniques, decorative bondage, and dominance bondage. There are countless techniques in each section, and they’ll all fun to experiment with. Some are more advanced than others in terms of the basic knots required, but if you get those all down pat before moving onto the bondage techniques, like I just mentioned, you won’t have to worry about being limited. I had no problem learning the knots in the book, nor learning the techniques covered throughout the book, and that was a real accomplishment in terms of my previously limited skill in that area. 

Together, RS and I worked through a number of techniques on our mannequin, and at some points it was really great to have a second pair of hands and eyes. One of the biggest downsides of this book is that it’s soft-covered, so it’s nearly impossible to hold your book open to your desired page while handling your rope at the same time. It would have been nice if hard-cover was an option – without a second thought I would gladly pay the extra cost for such a worthwhile upgrade.

Two Knotty Boys Showing You the Ropes is probably the best book out there for beginners looking to get started in rope-work, and though there are little disappointments here and there in terms of the manufacturing of the book itself, there is nothing disappointing in the content of this book. It’s truly a great learning tool that has a permanent place on our bookshelf.

product picture
Book by Dan and JD, Two knotty boys
Format: Paperback
Publisher: Green Candy Press

Sexy and Functional

Product: Tuyo
Manufacturer: Big Teaze Toys
Material: Plastic and Silicone

Cleaning: Cleaning for this vibrator is pretty simple – just use a wet wash cloth, some dish soap, and wipe it all down, and again with just plain old water. Make sure to never fully submerge this toy in water while cleaning - it's not waterproof.

It isn’t often that I’m browsing the vibrator section of an online sex toy store and think: holy hell, I have to have that! It just looks so…so…beautiful! The first time I saw the Tuyo I couldn’t help but marvel its appearance – there is simply nothing else quite like it out there. It screams luxury, and I knew I had to add it to my collection. Just looking at it had me excited, let alone actually using it!

The great thing about the Tuyo is the overall presentation of it – it comes in a beautiful satin lined box that almost resembles a really large jewelry box that is perfect for storing the Tuyo permanently. The packaging and instructional booklet that accompanies it is tasteful and simple with no images or graphics demonstrating it in use. I’m a big fan of tasteful packaging, so this is always a HUGE plus for me.

The Tuyo is mostly plastic with only a small band of silicone running down the middle. This band is largely there to give you something to hold onto, since wet plastic can slip away from you if you aren’t careful. And that’s another interesting feature about the Tuyo – it’s a ball, so unlike other vibrators that have too large/small of handles and are just generally uncomfortable to hold, the Tuyo is actually incredibly easy to handle, mostly because, well, it rests in your entire hand. It's length and diameter are around 3" each, so it comfortably fills the majority of your hand, and it's weight (around 4.8 ounces) is quite comfortable for one-handed use

I first sat down with the Tuyo with little expectation in terms of its vibrational strength or power. It was one of the first vibrators I had ever purchased, and it was a hell of a far cry from the little silver bullet I used daily. I was happily surprised by the stimulation – it’s such a broad vibration that ripples across the entire genital region. With my other vibrators it’s often easy to forget about the labia, the mons, and the perineum and to just go straight for the clitoris. With the Tuyo it’s nearly impossible to avoid these sensitive areas simply due to the sheer size of it, and it's definitely a welcome quality.

The only thing that feels slightly off is the use of the one button control. That one little button turns the Tuyo on, cycles through the various pulsing levels, and turns it off. I often find myself switching back and forth between two levels on other vibrators, and was a little disappointed that the Tuyo just doesn’t work that way – you literally have to go through all the other functions (and turn it off and on again) in order to get to the level before the one you were initially on. This can be a pain especially compared to the ease of multi-button vibrators, but it’s an obvious tradeoff, and probably a necessary one. It would be a hundred times more annoying to have to locate and handle multiple buttons on the rounded surface, and I can just imagine it getting all turned around and not knowing which button was which anyway. It's a slight annoyance, but it's not nearly enough of one to make me not use it.

The Tuyo comes out to play whenever RS and I are engaging in more sensual sex – it’s definitely not the kind of vibrator we use during our rougher play where stronger, more direct stimulation is desired. This type of stimulation does however have its place in our bedroom, and comes out of the toy box at least once a week.

I don’t want to simply pay for a quality product, I want to SEE that quality every time I look at it. The Tuyo is a great addition to our collection, and definitely stands out against all of our other toys - there is simply nothing that even remotely resembles it. It’s great for sensual sex, and even when I’m alone I have the urge to light candles and play soft sexy music while I cuddle in with the Tuyo instead of just plopping down and getting off with my pants still half-on.

product picture
Discreet massager by Big Teaze Toys
Material: Silicone / Plastic

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

A Birthday Resolution

My Birthday has always been a day of solemn reflection, a day to look back on the year and think about what I’ve done, and who I’ve become since the last one. Truthfully, I make birthday resolutions the way normal people make new years resolutions - I probably stick to them as long as those people stick to theirs too.

When I was fifteen, I remember thinking: hey, by this time next year I’ll probably have a wonderful boyfriend and we’ll be soo in love. And then when sixteen hit a year later and I was still alone, I was actually sad about it. I was upset over something that hadn’t happened, even though I probably had plenty of things to be upset about that had actually happened. And oh boy, when seventeen came and still nothing – let’s just say I was a mental fucking wreck. And this wasn’t all about dating and love and typical teenage girl bullshit – I made goals for literally everything and had a timeline for every aspect of my life.

I soon realized, just after turning into a mental wreck at seventeen, that perhaps it was time to give up the birthday resolutions, that my goals just weren’t worth it when my year was finally up. Sadly, I’m a goal-oriented person and life just doesn’t seem right without at least a couple of goals to keep me moving forward. So I still make a few loose resolutions, a few simple guidelines for my life over the next year.

I’m 21 this year, and entering into my last year of my human sexuality program. Endings and new beginnings are on the horizon, and I can’t even begin to imagine where I’ll be this time next year. All I can hope is that these few resolutions keep me moving forward in the direction I always strive towards.

So here they are – my hope is that a year down the road someone will hold me accountable to them, if I don’t do so myself.  

I resolve to. . . be more fully myself in every aspect of my life. I don’t need to hide certain sides of myself that are, in many ways, the most important in my sense of self.

I resolve to . . . make my commitments wisely and see them through to the end. My word is all I have, and if it means nothing, then I have nothing.

I resolve to. . . live freely and in the moment, to be open to the experiences this year will undoubtedly grant me.

They’re only three small goals, three small resolutions that in a years time I only hope I’ll be able to look back and think: yes, I did all of these as often and with as much of myself as I could. I didn’t do it half-assed, no, I did it the best I could.

Monday, July 16, 2012

Balls Are Sexy You Know!

Product: Aslan Silicone Ball Gag
Manufacturer: Aslan Leather
Material: Leather and Silicone

Cleaning: The silicone ball can be boiled on the stove for roughly 3-5 minutes in order to ensure proper sterilization, but can also be put in the dishwasher in your utensil holder (no soap) and then left out to thoroughly air dry before storing. The best way to clean the leather strap is to use a wet rag, with a drop of dish soap, and just wipe the area down, and again with just plain water. Never ever EVER soak or submerge your leather completely in water, and always dry it completely directly after cleaning.

I ordered the aslan silicone ball gag as a surprise gift for RS. We had never really talked about adding gags to our play, but RS had previously shown immense enjoyment in commanding my silence while playing – I can be a little too vocal at times perhaps! I saw this online and checked the sex toy review community and my compulsion took over and I just had to have it, especially because it’s leather, and well, leather is sexy as hell. And then RS and I talked about it, and talked about it, and talked about it some more. And with a green light and understanding on both sides, we got to work - erm, play.

As a beginner gag user, there were a few things I immediately liked about this particular gag. First, I liked the quick release snaps on either side of the silicone ball. There’s always the potential for panicking in the moment, and it’s always good to have a secure plan of ‘escape’ before the situation arises - those snaps immediately put me at ease.

Those straps have also proven really great in terms of being able to quickly and easily remove the silicone ball for cleaning, as well as for quickly switching the ball for a bigger one when this one just doesn't keep me quiet enough. The other thing I really like about this is the beautiful soft leather strap – it’s flexible and easily adjustable with ten or so different adjustment holes. Great for all head shapes and sizes, which is always a plus.

Which brings me to my only downside with this gag: I felt like the silicone ball was too big the first time I attempted to wear it. As a truly first-time ball gag user, it could have been smaller, and although it is only around a 1 1/2” diameter, my gag reflexes immediately took over and I had to take a few breaths before attempting to use it again. I’m quite comfortable in saying that my gag reflexes never comes into play during any other activities, but perhaps with the silicone ball it’s just a different type of sensation to accustom yourself to.

Before bringing it into play, I decided to wear it for short increments while sitting at the computer, studying, and reading to get myself fully accustomed to it. I slowly increased those increments until I was fully comfortable wearing it for extended periods of time during our play. It does help that the silicone ball is soft but still really firm, and has a bit of give to it - you can happily clench down on it and not feel like you’re causing irreparable damage to your teeth.

Overall, this is a relatively good pick for first-time ball gag users, especially when considering the general ease of being able to swap out the silicone ball for a different sized one if/when desired, as well as the ease in cleaning. It was my first ball gag and remains my go-to gag nearly a year later - and it still looks and feels like new. For seasoned users it’s a plus all around, and there’s nothing about this gag that isn’t painfully pleasing!


product picture
Mouth gag by Aslan Leather
Material: Silicone / Leather

Clamp me, Baby.

Product: Bull Nose Nipple Jewelry
Manufacturer: Cal Exotics
Material: Metal and Latex (beware of potential latex allergies!)

Cleaning: Clean with mild soap and water - just make sure to dry them off completely, you wouldn't want them to rust!

Nothing’s sexier than the sound of metal on metal, so of course the soft clinking sound of the chain from these bull nose nipple clamps were nothing short of exciting – sure, they were my first pair of nipple clamps from a sex toy store and I was ridiculously excited about them, but even to this day that sound gets me going every time. These are made primarily of metal (aside from the small latex tips that cover the clamping mechanism) so they can be cold to the touch, but you can warm them pretty easily in your hands if you don’t like the shock of cold metal against bare skin.I personally prefer the coldness of them, and RS loves to throw them in the freezer for a few minutes before we play.

Upon first look, the only visible downside of these clamps is the tips – they can (and often do!) fall off, so you have to make sure to store them somewhere where the tips can be easily found if lost while not in use. Or, you can crazy glue those fuckers on there. It’s a quick fix for an annoying problem, because nothing’s scarier than the sharp metal teeth that those rubber tips are hiding.

From nose to nose, these clamps span 16" in length.
One of my favourite things about these clamps are their ability to be adjusted to suit your desired pressure. Before trying these, my nipple clamping experience was limited to clothespins and other household clips and clamps I hoarded. I realized that I’m not a one-size-fits-all kind of girl, and I like being able to adjust them based on my sensitivity - and these actually have a pretty good range in term of pressure. I started out using very light pressure and pinching more nipple, and eventually worked to pinching less and applying more (remember, the less you grab between them, the more you’re going to feel it!).

It took a little bit of practice to figure out how to secure them comfortably, but once you play with them a little bit and figure out how they work with your body, they’ll stay put even when you tug on them (which is the awesome benefit of the metal chain that attaches the clamps together). I don't have particularly small or flat nipples, so I have no problems securing them, but this could be a potential problem for anyone who does. Just make sure to watch the clock while you’re wearing them, as you don’t want to cut off blood supply or damage the nerves of the clamped area. Fifteen minutes is a pretty good general rule, but until you know your body it’s good practice to take a minute and assess your body every five minutes or so, until you have a better understanding of your functioning with this particular product.

This is a great product for individuals looking for a solid first pair of nipple clamps. With a little bit of DIY gluing, these are a great pair of clamps that have the potential to remain a staple product in the toy box. Good for both first-time users and those with more experience – these clamps aren’t a product that needs to be upgraded for a bigger or better model later down the road.


product picture
Nipple clamps by California Exotic
Material: Latex / Metal

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Contaminating His Vanilla

If my sexuality were an ice cream flavour, it would probably be a peanut butter raspberry fudge jubilee – with sprinkles. 

From the beginning of our relationship, it was apparent that RS was as vanilla as vanilla could be – and still is in many ways. Hell, when we first met I was vanilla too, but let’s face it, I was seventeen. I didn't know shit about sex in general, let alone the great expanse of kinky pleasures waiting for me.

With eyes opened to the kinky realm through my Human Sexuality program, I quickly discovered my kinky self and wanted to explore it fully. I'm still exploring it. I'm still developing that part of my sexuality. RS has followed right along with me and has been happy to assist my every kinky whim and enjoys it immensely. He will (when out with close friends) disclose our kinky adventures as ours, rather than mine alone. So perhaps it’s unfair of me to label him vanilla, for surely he wouldn’t label himself so. For some reason or another, I still see him as vanilla though - there's always that nagging question in the back of my mind that asks:

Is this really the direction HE wants to go?

My kinky whims are our only kinky experiences - RS doesn't contribute to our kinky repertoire, and I can't help but wonder whether I'm contaminating his vanilla sexuality or if he's simply embraced my contaminations as blessings.

Of course we talk about it often and in great detail - we believe in open and honest communication in all aspects of our relationship. It's a topic that just keeps surfacing, and each time we talk until there are no words left. And then we fuck, of course. But before we get to the fucking, he always insists that he doesn't have any new or differnt fantasies or kinky desires that are outside our repertoire. He says that until I bring it up he doesn't know it exists, and if he doesn't know it exists, he can't want it or desire it. And it makes sense. I’ll bring something up, and he’ll look at me like he hasn’t got a clue. I’m always surprised, mostly because I’ve realized that I have certain expectations of what men learn from porn in their early years.

Now that we live together though, I'm excited to finally be able to watch porn together (undisturbed – it’s never ended well before!) and expand our kinky desires together and hopefully stir some of his own kinky fantasies – and more of my own probably!

And we are moving in that direction - the other day RS actually asked me if my favourite sex toy store sold strap-ons. It came completely out of left field. Of course I jumped on it and bought one, along with a few other anal-specific toys. He’s maintained an “exit-only” stance whenever I bring up anal play – perhaps he’s read something while I’ve been away that’s changed his mind. Either way, the harness and toys have been bought and are on their way, so he’s getting an ass-fucking whether he likes it or not! (not really though – safe, sane and consensual all the way!)

Saturday, July 14, 2012

My Precious Orgasm

Let me clear this up before I begin: I love orgasms. I enjoy and relish each and every one. There are not enough words to describe just how much I truly love them, but I’m sure you understand - I love them as much as the next girl.

I have to tell the truth though – orgasm isn’t the crux of my sex life. I firmly believe that orgasm should never be the end goal of our sexual encounter nor the tool we use to measure performace. Rather, pleasure itself is, and should be, a desirable end in itself. Some of my best sexual experiences with RS didn’t end in orgasm – the pleasure of pleasing him is all I crave some nights, and other nights the pure pleasure of pleasure itself is all I need. Orgasm just isn’t the be-all-to-end-all for me, and I don’t think it should be.

I happen to have a somewhat interesting relationship with my orgasm, simply because, for the first two years of my relationship with RS, she eluded me completely.

I was seventeen when we began our relationship, and prior to our dating, my sexuality was undeveloped and undiscovered. Masturbation? Sure, I remember touching myself as a child and adolescent, but it never evolved into anything further, and I surely never experienced any orgasmic pleasure from it, even once I moved into my teen years. I’m still unable to orgasm using my hands – RS can however bring me to orgasm using his fingers, so it’s not a physical issue. Perhaps it’s some sort of mental block on my part, but believe me, I’ve tried.

My lack of orgasm continued unchallenged in our relationship, and we didn’t talk much about it. RS was a virgin when we began dating, and we were both coming into our partnered sexuality for the first time. When we look back on those days, RS expresses such regret at his lack of understanding of my needs. His hands in my pants was a game of how many fingers he could get in there at one time – I slapped him at four and told him to grow up.

He didn’t know how to please me, and I couldn’t help him – I didn’t even know how to please me.

It wasn’t long before it became an issue in our relationship. I perfected my fellatio skills and wanted nothing more than to please him any way I could, and at times I felt like he didn’t try hard enough. It started to wear on me, and I later learned it did the same to him. It became an issue, and our sex romps ended in tears and frustration. We were trying too hard, and I wanted it too badly, and it just wasn’t going to happen.

From my studies I knew I should learn to please myself before expecting anyone else to know how. I knew this. I knew it the way I know my times-tables and the periodic table. But I just couldn’t. I had naive notions of my first orgasm with RS at his hands. I didn’t want my first orgasm to be my own. RS was my first in every way; he was my first kiss and my first taste of love. With him I wanted to experience every first love could offer me. And my first orgasm seemed to fit right in there, and I refused to let go of this ridiculous notion, no matter how much unhappiness it caused me.

We did eventually get there though; it was Halloween, and we had just passed our second anniversary. I had, in many ways, completely given up. My lack of orgasm still bothered me, still wore away at me, but I resigned myself to thinking that there was something inherently wrong with me, that it just wasn’t meant to be.

And then it happened.

Like divine inspiration, RS’ hands moved before I even knew what I wanted, what I needed. It was a beautiful moment – I was free. Free of the worry that I would never know the pleasure of orgasm, free of the fear that RS would give up on me and move on to someone who could fully appreciate him as a lover. I was free to explore my own pleasure – that first orgasm was all that mattered. After that I could, in my mind, go on and have fifty more without him.

I was elated. In those moments, I couldn’t have been happier. And RS, the orchestrator of it all, had no idea it had even happened. I don’t know what he thought it would look and feel like, but mine obviously didn’t register as one for him – in fairness I’ve since learned my orgasms and know how many varyingly different ones I have based on stimulation and positioning and what not. RS is still sometimes unsure, but we have an understanding now that ‘when in doubt, just keep doing what you’re doing until I tell you to stop’. It works well for us.

My long and arduous relationship with my orgasm has undeniably changed my understanding of sexuality, and for that, I can only be thankful. Two years without orgasm were not a waste; in those two years I experience more joy than I ever thought possible, the simple bliss of love. I wouldn’t change those two years now. I firmly believe that everything happens for a reason, it just takes a while to figure out what that reason might be.

I have a much better relationship with my orgasm now. We’re good friends, and we know each other well. But I know I can’t take her for granted, and every time we meet, I’m truly grateful. She’s a precious member in my sex life, but she’s not the only member. My sex life does not revolve around her. And I’m incredibly grateful for that.

Friday, July 13, 2012

Our Beginning

I'm a chronological person by nature - I like to see things from beginning to end. It's the reason I can't start a book and quit halfway through, no matter how bad it is; it's why I will make you repeat the beginning of your story, no matter how far along you are in telling it; and it's the reason I want to tell the story of my relationship with RS now, from the beginning, before anything else.

RS and I met at Canada's most widely acclaimed eatery - Tim Horton's. It was my first job and it paid just enough to give me a little spending money to throw around in my high school years.

My first day of work was a blur of new faces and quickly forgotten names, and his was one of them. He stood out partly because he helped me cheat on the computerised training system by giving me the answers so that we could spend the time between quizzes chatting and laughing instead of watching the informational videos. And partly because he was so damn good looking. Mostly because he was so damn good looking.

I worked for the next month and very rarely saw RS. When I did, it was in passing between overlapping shifts that lasted only a few brief moments, and our interactions were friendly at most.

He stopped into work one night on the way to a bar and caught me cleaning tables away from the rest of the staff and made his pass: he gave me his number on the ripped corner of a tray liner, but I never called it. I didn't know what to say and I didn't know how to manoeuvre the dating realm - he would be my first, after all. A few days passed and I didn't think any more of it.

One Saturday morning, however, I got pulled from the floor at work and told I had a phone call. It was RS, calling to reiterate his interest and ask for my number. I happily gave it to him, and we made plans to see each other a few days later. When my Mother asked about this stranger who would be coming to take me out, I realised I knew absolutely nothing about him - what I knew was limited to his first name and that was it. Because of this, our first "date" took place in my bedroom where we cuddled up in my bed and watched a movie he had brought along with him - 'House on Haunted Hill' (we watch this each and every anniversary). He had to scramble up out of my bed to meet my Mother, and it was awkward all around. We weren't naked or in sort of compromising position... now that would have been an interesting introduction to say the least!

All in all, it was an innocent and PG-rated date all around - and it stayed that way for three months (well, aside from letting him get his hands in my pants from the second date on) until we had sex for the first time. It was simple and comfortable, the first time for both of us. We stayed in his bed for hours, fucking and cuddling, laughing and embracing. We were virgins discovering sexual intimacy for the first time, and from that moment forward, we began our journey of sexual discovery and evolution.

Our beginning was not only the beginning of our relationship, but also the beginning of my own sexual discovery and growth. Our beginning was exciting and exhilarating, but our journey since then has proven tenfold so. And I can't wait to tell you all about it.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Sex, Sleep, and Sadness

Sleeping with RS is one of the simple joys in my life - and I mean physically sleeping, not the good stuff that usually preceeds it.

Last night was the last night of drifting off into subconscious space fully aware that I was not, and wouldn't be, alone. It's comfortable to be able to reach out and touch someone in the middle of the night; it's reassuring to know that your pillar of strength is perched resolutely beside you in the darkness; and it's incredibly sexy to watch the rhythmic rise and fall of a great phallus during sleep and using every ounce of restraint against the desire to reach out and embrace it.

When I finally crawled into bed last night beside RS he was already fast asleep and my mind began to race; How could I leave in the morning without one last sexual encounter, without one last orgasm, without one last naked embrace?

But once my naked body curled in beside him, instict took over and his dick settled into the contours of my ass and legs while his hands found their way to my nipples, and in the darkness and silence he began rubbing, turning, twisting and pinching. Orgasm and sex followed, and at the end of it all, we fell back into bed happy and satisfied.

And though I will undoubtedly and without question miss our sexcapades, that space between spent silence and welcome sleep is what I'll miss most while we're apart.

In a few short hours I'll surely be cocooned in the bed couch listening to sad sappy music and weeping uncontrollably while I fall asleep alone.

The only thing that could potentially make up for sleeping alone might be sex dreams - good ones, and lots of them.

Bring it on.

Why This And Why Now?

Almost a year ago - for some unknown reason - I joined the Twitter community (@BostonBliss) and began documenting my life and experiences as they pertain to my sexuality and my sexual experiences. Sounds nice, right? Sounds somehow classier and more academic then just putting a picture of my boobs on the internet and talking about my sex life - which is exactly what I did.

Here's the thing though - I've never been particularity pithy and 140 characters is just never enough. I had an English teacher once who scrawled "pithy, pithy, pithy. BE PITHY" on every paper and every page I ever submitted to him. As much as I adore Twitter, 140 characters is just never quite enough for me to fully articulate any thought or impression. I'm wordy and proud! And here begins the birth of my desire to blog.

The 'why this' was an easy one, but the 'why now' goes quite a bit deeper than character limits. In a nutshell, I leave for vacation tomorrow, and when I do, I will be leaving RS behind for three agonizing weeks. Each year those few weeks seem a tad bit longer and just a pinch lonelier. But aside from the loneliness and similar feelings, the simple fact is that the next three weeks are the only three weeks of the year that I trudge through without either sex or masturbation (the joys of shared roomings, Oh, how I don't miss thee).

Each year I spend my holiday by the lake reading online erotica by the grace of my smart phone, and journaling and private letter-writing by moonlight. As romantic as pen to paper by moonlight is, by it's very nature it's an entirely private experience. This is great and remains part of my daily routine  as an important piece in my own self-care, but I've also realized that my sexuality need not be as private as I had previously held it. I want to open myself up and share my stories and thoughts and all the things that circulate through my own understanding of my sexuality.

... Or I'm doing this now because I'll be horny as fuck and will have no outlet for it - and it sure as hell can't be contained by 140 measly characters.