Thank you sex bloggers

I have a confession to make.

Almost a year ago, I created a twitter account for my reviewer persona because I'd heard that that's where the "in crowd" hung out. That's where the "cool reviewers" chatted and such. I was desperate for a community where I could be honest about loving sex and sex toys, so I timidly dipped my toes into the vast ocean that is twitter.

I expected to see a large group of cliques I'd never break into, groups I could watch from the outside and learn from. There were a handful of bloggers I'd idolized since I entered the reviewing world; I've told some of you who you are, so I won't embarrass you by saying it here.

What I found was very different. Yes, there are groups of friends and acquaintances, but it was a very welcoming atmosphere. All sorts of people welcomed me, chatted with me, offered suggestions and advice and laughed at the craziness of life with me. Suddenly, I was able to call some of those idols... friends. They weren't just brilliant reviewers whose blogs I followed, they were people, with lives and personalities and crazy experiences to share. They were people who comforted me when shit went wrong in my life. They were people who laughed at my stupid jokes. They were people who cheered me on when I started to break into the bigger world of blogging and reviewing.

My idols became my friends. That's one of the most amazing feelings in the world, realizing that you have become someone good enough for your idols to respect. These people, and you, my readers, have done wonderful things for my self-image. For once, I'm good enough. I'm worth following, worth hanging out with, worth being called a friend and equal. And for that, I am grateful. Thank you, to the sex blogging community, for welcoming me and making me feel at home.

Review: Pink Unity

Once upon a time, I loved a hybrid lube called Liquid Silk. It was a wonderful lube, but our affair was short-lived, for I am hideously sensitive to the parabens it contains. Ever since, I've been trying to find a lube that had the same qualities: the staying power of silicone lube without my lady bits feeling coated for days. When Fascinations offered to let me review Pink's new hybrid lube Pink Unity, I was definitely interested.

Orgasmic Issues

Something is wrong.

Usually, it's quite easy for me to come. Getting turned on is hard, but once I'm going I can usually have a rip-raorin' clitoral orgasm without much trouble. Heck, I could orgasm on command if I had some modest clit stimulation going on. I'd perfected the art of the 2-minute shower orgasm.

Something has been different for the past few months. Sometimes, pressing a vibrator to my crotch has been like pressing it against my stomach: not at all sexually stimulating, but not a turn-off or relaxing massage, either. The vibrator was just... there. Same with the fingers. Ooh, yay, it's like I'm kneading my elbow. I could poke my clit directly, and while it wasn't numb, I could feel my finger, there wasn't a single twinge of pleasure.

I figured, maybe I need more stimulation than I used to. So, I reached for a more powerful toy. I pulled out my Wahl and FairyMini (on a very low setting, through fabric... that thing is strong!). They had been my go-to toys when I wanted a fast, effortless, no-fuss-no-frills orgasm. I could lightly hold them against my clit, and in less than five minutes I'd have blasted through at least one or two orgasms.

Imagine my shock when not only did it take me half an hour to come with my Wahl, but the orgasm was definitely unsatisfying. It was the kind of wimpy orgasms I usually have to coax out of cheap, weak, or poorly made vibrators I try to review.

The weeks progress. I essentially stop masturbating more than one attempt a week, for reviewing. It's not satisfying even if I manage to wring an orgasm out of it, and it's a hell of a lot of work either way for something that should be a de-stressing tool. I figure, if nothing else, a break from regular masturbating should bring back my sensitivity, right?

Last week, I convinced myself to try to get started again. I needed all the help relieving stress I could get.

I bruised my crotch pretty badly, applying pressure to try to get enough stimulation to orgasm. I almost broke one of my Wahl attachments, but I managed to orgasm. And the next day I could barely stand discomfort of my jeans seam rubbing against the bruise. I tried again a few days later, trying to be careful not to apply so much pressure. I ended up having to throw caution to the wind to get a single orgasm out of the mess. Getting desperate, I reached for the Pure Wand, the only toy that can make me orgasm without clitoral stimulation.

It hurt.

It found my g-spot, it cuddled up for some lovin, and it hurt.

As long as I'm careful (which I was), the Pure Wand never hurts, to me. This time, though, my vagina basically told it to fuck off.

Finally, in a bit of a Hail Mary pass, I turned the FairyMini all the way up, and applied atomic-missile-grade-vibration to clit. I orgasmed, but got no post-orgasmic bliss. Nothing aside for the usual panting from exertion.

I don't know what's wrong with me. It's like my sexuality is broken. I can get all hot and bothered by porn or erotica, but I can't do anything about it. I don't want to have sex, but if I manage to get going I can enjoy it... for a few minutes.

Something is wrong, and I don't know how to fix it.

A Dream

Have you ever had a dream so wonderful that it made your soul ache when you woke up? So real you would have sworn you were awake? Of a believable life with just as many flaws as the current life, but you didn't care because all the right things were wonderful? A dream that made you truly want to say "fuck the world, I really never want to wake up"? A dream that you can never have, but would seriously consider abandoning all other dreams for? A dream that flays your soul with longing every time you stir the memory?

This dream is going to haunt me for a long, long time.

Medical Issues Interfere With Sex Life

Breaking News: Medical Issues Interfere With Sex Life

Yet again, a problem of medical origin is standing between me and sex. Between me and hot, crazy, wild, possibly kinky, definitely life- and love-affirming sex. For once, my joints are under control. For once, my back has decided to shut the hell up for a while. My birthcontrol isn't mucking with my hormones. My pain meds aren't fucking with my brain. I don't even have bronchitis, which is a shock in and of itself. So what on earth is standing between me and HAWT SECKS?

Strep throat.

Seriously.

Think about that for a moment.

Somehow, in August, I've managed to find the one lonely strain of Strep Throat that's still wandering around this neck of the woods, and catch it.

It doesn't even seem to be very contagious. I was making out with my boyfriend hours before I started showing symptoms, and he hasn't caught it. I shared a waterbottle with my sister and mom that day, and they didn't catch it. I hugged half a dozen people at rehearsal that day, AND NONE OF THEM CAUGHT IT. Seriously, what the heck? Did I conjure this thing out of some alternate dimension into my throat? Did I somehow pick up a non-contagious version of this bug? (Then how did I catch it? Random superpower?)

Oh, and it gave me an ear infection. Perfect conditions for sexin' it up, right?

So for the next few days, it will just be me, some erotica and porn, and a pile of sterilizable sex toys. Get your sexy steel self over here, Pure Wand...