I Wanna Do Porn

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Satisfaction

I wrote a post a few weeks ago about how insatiable I can be. Everything I wrote there still applies: the more sex I have the more sex I want, and I'm more satisfied when I have a deep relationship.

But!

As I've been embracing kink more and finding partners who want to tie me up and do very fun painful things to me, I'm finding myself way more satisfied. To the extent that maybe even for a day or two after a good scene, I'm not craving sex or touch or anything. Just buzzing in some afterglow. It's a novel feeling.

Last Saturday, I went to a sex party with Conrad, a newish play partner. (Dear god, he is hot.) Now, I'm normally pretty private about who I'm playing with. It seems slightly awkward to write about the sex I'm having as I'm having it, especially if I'm talking in ways I wouldn't with my partner. But Conrad asked me if I was planning to blog about him and told me I could post a link. So I have permission!

He and I played, ladies and gentleman, from 9:30pm to 5:00am last Saturday night. We had an audience at the party, but we were almost exclusively fooling around with each other. I spent the better part of seven hours bound in one way or another. He put clothespins on me, he whipped me, he dunked my head underwater in the hot tub, he used electro-stim on my nipples and pussy, he pinched and hit and bit and kissed me. He pulled my hair and stuck his cock down my throat. He made me come more times than I'm sure of. For sustenance, he blindfolded me and fed me a hot dog and some fruit. (I spit a watermelon seed at him!) At the end of the night we fucked next to a bunch of other people having fun. And then in the morning, after we went home to my apartment and got some sleep, we fucked some more.

After that, I was satisfied. Boy was I ever. Actually, I was exhausted, but in a pleasant way. And I took a couple of days to just chill out at home after work, watch movies with my roommate, and generally do tame, vanilla, calm things. I slept a lot the next two nights. And I felt great.

I had never felt that way after vanilla sex. I've had some really great sex that stuck with me. I've made some beautiful connections and hot memories. But I'd never felt so bone-satiated. So finished. Content.

I'm so glad I've finally come to this point, where I'm actually acting on my submissive urges on a regular basis. It took me a long time to get here, to be ready for it, but I'm happy I've arrived. It's clear to me that BDSM is a fundamental piece of who I am and what I desire, and something that was missing from my life for a long time. And now I get to have it. And I'm so grateful.

Watching

I love watching people being affectionate and sexual in public. It's really sexy to see two people standing in line and one of them casually reaches out to stroke the other's thigh for thirty seconds as they're paying for food.

It's arresting to see two people in the library, sitting at two computers next to each other, and watch them ignore their screens as they talk. I can't resist staring at their absorption in each other's faces, the way one might reach out and brush at the hair of the other. I can see the way their mouths hang open just slightly more than usual, a signal that they'd like to be kissing.

I remember being a teenager and waiting in the parking lot of a pizza place, waiting to pick up my boyfriend. A long blonde woman and her tall, big boyfriend were standing in front of my car and I didn't think they were attractive, too scornful of their stereotypical good looks. But then they started making out, just attacking each other's faces and grabbing at bodies, and I got such a thrill sitting there watching. It was such a shamelessly intimate public spectacle. I don't know if they saw me there, but I was only a dozen feet away.

The foursome that I had a year ago was all because I saw the other couple kiss. I watched the way their lips clung together, and their eyes were closed, and they had half smiles, and I wanted to be kissing them. Both of them. Together. Fortunately, the guy I was with that night shared my feelings.

I suppose I have a great appreciation for watching and being watched. There's just something about both that gets to me like very little else. Good thing there are orgies in the world, and I can do both as much as I like.

On Being Desired

I try to be confident in my body regardless of what other people think. You know, the old thing where you're supposed to love yourself before you can connect with others. Or whatever.

I wear what I want. I take or leave grooming habits (like shaving) as I feel like it. I have days where I don't try to be sexy. Realizing I didn't have to look good all the time, especially if I didn't want to be attracting anyone or interacting that way, was a huge thing. It's a relief to be able to say, "I'm not feeling sexy today, so I'm not going to dress to impress," and feel fine about it.

It does, however, feel really good to be desired. Especially by a lot of people.

It's pretty great to sleep with somebody and see in their eyes that they're impressed by you, and so happy to be getting to touch you. It's really nice to hear that I'm sexy or hot and to have people appreciate how I look. It's a total ego boost to get however many messages a day on OkCupid. These days, people are telling me they want me all the time.

I don't want to be dependent on these things, though. I feel sexy on my own and that should probably be enough, but I'm basking in the attention. I'm worried I might be enjoying it too much, that I'll get used to it. I know it's a part of the confidence boost I've been having lately.

I don't want to be one of those women who despairs at getting old, who tries too hard to hang onto her youthful life and body. I really look forward to getting older, to getting to know more things and do more and have a different outlook. I want to have more experiences in my memory that I've learned from. I want to see how I change. I'm going to do my best to enjoy all of it.

Being "young and hot," though, is addictive. I get all kinds of good feelings from people noticing and appreciating my looks. I can imagine myself being disappointed as I age, when my body changes, when it's different after I have children, when I don't fit the silly ideal and people might not pay to see me naked anymore.

I know the best I can do is try to understand that sexiness is about a lot more than fitting into a physical ideal. There are so many ways to be sexy. I've got to remember that, and try to appreciate this vessel I walk around in for what it can do, not just what it looks like. I'm sure I'll manage it and be fine. It's just a question of reminding myself and not getting too caught up in the young, thin, and hot hype.

Lazy Sunday, Sunny Kissing

I spent the night on Saturday at the house of one of my gentleman friends after his party. He was (and is) sick, coughing up a little lung, but I've got a get-out-of-contagion-free card with my antibiotics. He is good at cuddling and I slept well. It's a feat for two people in a twin bed to sleep comfortably; I like fitting together well.

I stayed for breakfast and afterwards we brought blankets out into the sun, and laid there wrapped around each other. He's a very good kisser, very soft and slow which I adore. It's hard to find in a man, that care in brushing our lips together and feeling all the layers of skin. There are those who lead with the tongue, and too much spit, and pressure that's consistent and hard, not variable and playful. He lets me nip at him a little, kiss lightly at the corner of his mouth, and I can pull away to look at him, tease him.

He pulled me on top of him so I could wriggle and feel him hard in his shorts; I know he doesn't wear underwear. We rolled so that the gaggle of fraternity men four houses down couldn't see between our bodies, and he slid his hand to the neckline of my tank top.

My nipples are fiercely sensitive, in the best way, and he had promised earlier to experiment with them. I couldn't touch my vulva, even a little, and he knew it. He wanted to please me just through my breasts. I couldn't make much noise, as the neighbors had started a barbecue next door, but I could breathe into his ear, bite it, and tell him how good it felt. I could slide a blatantly obvious arm between us and try to cup him through his pants.

"I think I need to get you inside soon." He said it as he pinched the tip of my nipple between his index and middle fingers. "As in now."

We went, skipping past his friend napping on the couch, up the stairs to his bedroom, and I made him come into my mouth with the sexy, goofy look on his face that meant I'd done it right.

Good Lap Dances

I love it when I can get really into lap dances. It's so much fun when the conditions are just right and I can get turned on by what I'm doing. It doesn't happen all that often, but it's not that rare either. I'm a big tease and love touch just in general. It's a given that the act of giving the lap dance would be sexy to me sometimes.

The hottest thing for me in a lap dance is a respectful and responsive customer. If they're busy trying to grab my ass or grind their dicks against me, pushing and pulling me this way and that, then I'm busy trying to fend them off and can't really have fun. Even if they're pushing the boundaries just a little, it means I have to be on alert and can't relax into the experience and have fun.

Then, as long as they're keeping their hands to themselves, I love feeling, hearing, and seeing a man or woman respond to what I'm doing. I like to hear that their breath is coming more quickly. I like to feel the erection. I like the look that people get on their faces and the wistful comments they make about how much they'd love to actually be able to fuck me. (Again, so long as it's not in a pushing, pressuring kind of way.)

That actually turns me on. I'll get wet. It becomes a better lap dance, I get more into it, and the sexy looks I'm giving them are genuine. Those kinds of lap dances are so much fun.

I had one of them tonight, with a guy who was attractive as a bonus. While yes, I do get turned on in dances fairly frequently, it's almost never with a young, pretty guy. It was lovely, and now I'm in a good mood and all energized. Too bad it's the middle of the night and there's nobody around to play with.

Spring Sex Challenge

This is the article my editors didn't want to run because it was too blunt without "adding anything to the space."

It’s that time of year again where the weather starts teasing us with alternating sun and snow like a lusty lad or lady flashing us from across the room. We’re all starting to feel a little restless, waiting for spring to come so we can break into the outdoors. Sure, it’s already technically here, but this is upstate New York. We always have to wait.

Well, I’m not one to take it slow. I’m challenging all of you to shake off the winter blues and have a little extra fun this week in honor of the beginning of spring. Do something new and totally radical in the bedroom. Or do it outside, while the cold still lasts. You won’t get to savor the contrast of freezing air and hot tongue for much longer.

This is my spring sex challenge to the campus: shake things up. You know that fantasy you have about getting out your old cheerleading outfit (or putting on your girlfriend’s) and taking it up the butt? Go for it.

If you’ve always wondered about that incredibly hot biology TA, make a pass and see what happens. Plan a sexy study session. Don’t forget your glasses.

You don’t have to have a sexual partner, either, to take some risks. Masturbate creatively. Sure, we can all do it sitting at our computer with a hand on the mouse to browse through porn. We’re all comfortable on our backs in bed.

Try doing it in a new position, or with a new toy. Change your location. Spend a little more time. Masturbation can be one of the great joys in life, and even as satisfying as partner sex if you give it the time of day.

I want to hear moaning and screaming all across campus. It should be so loud that your neighbors will applaud every orgasm. We might as well get some action now before we have to start stressing about finals. Let’s celebrate while we can. The tests will be so much better if we can all go into them just a little more satisfied.

If you’re not the sexually adventurous type, just try connecting with someone new. Make a new friend or start a new relationship. It’s a spring tradition! There might still be snow in the air, but there can be some love there, too. Turn that restless energy on to someone exciting and it’s bound to be a good time.

Professors, that means you, too. Married? Make a special spring date with your partner. Get a babysitter. Live it up, the sun’s coming back! Everyone should get the bug, from deans to administrators to our best loved building service workers. They spend all that time cleaning our ungrateful floors; they should be able to bring a sweetie and make them dirty for a change.

As usual, practice safer sex and be honest about what you’re doing. If you want to be extra honest, do a little kiss and tell. We can all inspire each other to be even sexier with stories and words. I hope to hear a few good ones myself.

25 Things About My Sexuality

I'm sure you've all seen the 25 things meme on Facebook or wherever, given that the New York Times wrote about it. There's a new blog up where folks can anonymously share 25 things about their sexuality. It's an interesting read and I figured it'd be fun to join in. I'm posting my 25 things on here, since this blog has enough anonymity for me.

1. I'm a stripper (duh, if you read this blog) and I've dated/had sex with exactly one man that I met at work. It was when I first started and he was very cute and nice, but terrible in bed. After our first time, I stopped seeing him.

2. My first clue that I was interested in women was when I was 12. I had a sex dream about my sister. I was pretty horrified and upset, but also suddenly realized that I was seeing women in a sexual way. This was quite separate from my sister, but it's always bugged me that she was in the dream that brought me to that realization.

3. I "came out of the closet" at the exact moment that I realized the label bisexual could apply to me. I was on the bus on the way home from school and discussing what bisexuality meant with some acquaintances. I said "I know I'm attracted to guys, but I'm pretty sure I'm also into girls. So yeah, I guess I'm bisexual." Thank you, California upbringing.

4. I once gave a boyfriend a blow job in front of a pack (flock? gaggle?) of wild turkeys. Really.

5. I almost never masturbate with my fingers. I went from rubbing myself against a stuffed animal for years to using a vibrator. Fingers are generally too rough for my very sensitive clit. I can make it work, but it takes a LOT of effort and lube.

6. The first person I fell in love with was an emotionally abusive asshole. The only good things he did for me were teach me how to drink and give me lots of good sex. He also made me feel bad, though, about sex, as part of the whole abuse thing. I'm proud of myself for getting out of it before he became physically abusive, as he did with his next girlfriend.

7. I took naked pictures of myself when I was a teen and sent them to at least one person I was having random cyber sex with. My mom found them on my computer and chose to believe me when I told her they were just for me. I deleted them. It makes me feel kind of awkward (and scared, given recent prosecutions) that they may still be out there.

8. I didn't have sex with a woman until I got to college. This made me feel a little like a fraud saying I was bisexual, but I knew it was true. I didn't tell my first few female sexual partners how inexperienced I was. I wish I had, so I could've spent that time learning from them.

9. When I was young I used to have fantasies about being tied up by a male figure and put in cold places or deprived of food and then fed grapes. They were vague fantasies and not exactly sexual as I'd mean the word now. They were arousing, though, in a not-quite-sexual-yet-but-almost way.

10. I keep a list of all the people I've had sexual encounters with. If I didn't, I'd have trouble naming them all, particularly in order. I like to look back at it and remember.

11. I used to read and write erotic short stories and romance and erotic novels. I got teased at school for reading "porn for women," which actually didn't bother me at all. I was kind of proud.

12. I've never watched that much porn although I find it very arousing. It's too much effort to find what I like to see, and I can get off just fine without it. Lately, I've been trying harder.

13. My first time having anal sex was when the afore-mentioned abusive boyfriend got me drunk on his birthday. I was open to the idea sober so I didn't mind. However, the only time we'd talked about it, I'd said I wasn't sure. I'm pretty certain that he was getting me drunk so I'd do it, which is really rapey. It's a weird situation because I was actually willing despite the alcohol, but he didn't know that.

14. I love group sex. I want to have much, much more of it. I've had a few really good threesomes, a foursome with all bi folks which was fantastic, and one of my favorite sex experiences was a lesbian orgy in San Francisco I was lucky enough to be invited to.

15. I have had sex in all kinds of ridiculous places. I've posted here before about how much I love public sex. It's definitely something I've done a lot and will continue to do.

16. I'm just starting to really experiment with BDSM. I've been interested in it for a long time, but the community's focus on pushing boundaries was really intimidating. I'm finally at a point where I'm comfortable negotiating exactly what I want so I can feel okay with someone topping me. Boundary pushing can come over time.

17. I really like being spanked. I'm not sure why this is as I was never spanked as a kid and it's arousing in absence of any role playing. I just like the way it feels; it turns me on.

18. I go through phases where I'm more attracted to one sex/gender than others, but normally I'm pretty pansexual. I don't identify as pansexual because most of the people I've met who do are kind of annoying. Growing up, being pansexual was the cool, non-conformist thing to do and I still associate it with that.

19. The more sex advice I give, the more I realize how little I actually know about sex and the more comfortable I get with that fact. There are always more questions and new things to learn!

20. I like sex outside of committed relationships, but not really "casual" sex. I want to have a connection with someone I'm sleeping with, even if it's just once for forty minutes. Otherwise it's not particularly satisfying to me, even if I have fifteen orgasms.

21. I almost always masturbate before I go to sleep. I often also masturbate at random moments during the day when I'm reading or bored or just horny. It's been a very long time since I've gone more than one day without masturbating.

22. I sometimes get aroused during lap dances. It has a lot to do with how respectful and responsive my customer is. If he or she is both, I'll get turned on.

23. The only things I can think of when my mom asks me "What do you want for your birthday?" are more sex toys. They're some of the only things I want that are too expensive to buy for myself. It doesn't seem appropriate, despite our good relationship, to ask Mom for them.

24. My best friend calls me "Little Nelly Bottom." I worry sometimes that by being more of a bottom I'm not contributing enough to sex. I know that bottoming for me is as much about giving and wanting to please, but I still wonder sometimes if I'm being lazy by wanting my partner(s) to take control.

25. I'm hugely orally fixated, in a not-just-a-joke kind of way. I love giving head and kissing and using my mouth as much as possible during sex. I have a candy problem. I chew on things. When I masturbate, I do things with my mouth like bite my pillow, suck on my fingers, or go down on a dildo.

Spanked

Look at what I've been up to!



I don't really think I need to comment much, but I did find a post at Secret Confessions of a Smart Girl (as I was uploading the picture for my own post!) that sums up my feelings on it perfectly. I've been having a little hetero phase (they happen from time to time, as do lezzie phases) so it's right with my recent mindset.

...Fist your hand in my hair to pull me over your knee. I want you to pull my skirt up to my waist and my panties down to my knees and for the spanking to begin. I want to feel your hand hard against my ass, over and over again. I want to feel that tenting in your trousers as I squirm against them, so I know that what you are doing to me turns you on. Then, as you run your hand over my ass to feel the warmth you’ve created there, I want your fingers to dip lower. I want you to notice the dampness in my cunt so that you know that I am a naughty naughty girl. I want you to brush your fingers across my clit, and then I want you to hit me harder.

Yeah.

Working on Valentine's Day

I went to work last night at the club, not sure at all what to expect. It was either going to be tons of lonely guys (and lots of lap dances) or a bunch of couples doing something "exciting" for Valentine's day instead of the usual candy hearts and hallmark special dinners.

It turned out to be a combination of both, of course, which made for a really strange night.

I'd say that most of the customers there last night were not people who regularly frequent strip joints. Probably around half of them had never been to a strip club before. Instead of lining up at the tip rails as usual, staying with a stack of ones for a few songs, people would walk up, give a dollar, and then go back to their tables.

There is nothing more awkward, or that I hate more, than dancing for a room chock full of aptly watching customers who don't come up and tip. Generally when I'm dancing, I do so to get a reaction: the reaction of giving me money.

Sure, there's some satisfaction in getting people to smile or having their attention, but in the club the way to show appreciation is through money. It's one dollar increments. It's not a whole lot to ask for or give, but what it really signifies is enjoyment, applause.

If no one's tipping, it feels like you're doing something wrong. When there's no customer sitting close by waiting for attention, you're just standing there on a large empty stage. There's no real interaction to use as a show, to get people's attention. You can't speak or sing a song. It's just the movement, just the dance, just your body.

I'm never more aware of my lonely self, exposed on that stage, than when fifty people are watching and not a one comes up to show me I'm doing a good job. A tip is such a small thing, but it does mean a lot when you're under that spotlight.

Last night, I did a good job of keeping my energy up and continuing to work despite the discouragement. By the end of the night, I even got people to come to the stage during my sets. It took a lot out of me, though, because I was working twice as hard for less than half the money. I don't think I'll be working a Valentine's Day again.

Playing with My Camera

I'm super tired after fighting writer's block for days and finally finishing a fiction story for workshop today. I emailed it in sometime around 6am and am operating on very little sleep.

I'm the loopy kind of tired, though, so it's working out alright. In celebration of actually finishing the damn story, I decided to relax a little and played around with my camera. I figured I might as well share a couple of shots since I'm not writing a full blog entry.

Since I got my lip pierced, I have the urge to make this face:

every time I look in the mirror. And that's because I'm a badass.

Why I Like to Fuck in Public

I'm a huge fan of public sex.

Now, I am an exhibitionist in many ways. Obviously I'm a stripper, and part of that for me is that I like people looking at me naked. I've had unusual amounts of single-partner sex with someone else randomly on the bed, just kind of watching (or pretending not to). I really, really like group sex, for many reasons which include that I like being watched while I fuck. All of these things, though, are different than "public" sex.

I love fucking in strange places, out in the open as much as I can be without actually getting caught. I have no desire to impose the view of me having sex on people who don't want to see it. That's not consensual and has nothing to do with why the whole public thing gets me off.

I really don't think it's the thrill of maybe getting caught that does it for me at all. I'm actually very careful about how I do "public" sex. I make sure I'm in a place where I know someone won't walk in, or if they do that they won't know what I'm doing. I don't want to be discovered.

I've masturbated in a school office, but with the tricky door locked and all my clothes on. I've had sex outside next to a well-trafficked foot path, but underneath such a huge skirt that nobody walking by could tell I was doing anything but sitting on my guy's lap. We had a long view to either side, and just didn't move while people passed us. I've had sex on an elementary school playground, but in the middle of the night when nobody was around.

It's much more about the juxtaposition of the normal around me with what's going on in my pants. The fact that I can hear or see other people going about their day while I'm in the throes of sex makes me really hot. The vast difference between what I'm feeling and what everyone around me is seeing makes the sensations seem even more exciting and intense.

I also, of course, really like the idea of being bad, of breaking a taboo right in front of people's faces and without giving them a clue. This is where being seen is something I desire, but not in the sense that someone would know what's going on. I just like to pull one over, to be a bit naughty, in public but in secret.

It's those kinds of contrasts that really get me off, however they play out. Between the public and the private, the masculine and feminine, the dominant and submissive. I love fucking (literally) with the way things seem or the way they're supposed to be.

Thanks to Greta Christina for getting me thinking about this.

Why I Am Sick: The Liz Game

The Liz Game is played with cards and at least four players, although you can add as many as you want depending on the desired outcome of the game. In a round, you go around the circle with the deck and each draw a card in turn until the deck is finished.

There are 6 rules:

1. If you draw a face card (Jack, Queen, King, 0r Ace), you must take off one article of clothing. Socks count as one article together, as do shoes. Jewelry doesn't count as clothing.

2. If you draw a black card that isn't a face card, you must drink.

3. If you draw a red card that isn't a face card, you have to make out with someone of your choice in the circle.

4. After you make out with someone for the first time, if you choose them again you must "escalate" your making out. If you pecked on the lips the first time, the second time you use tongue, and the third time you grope each other a bit, etc. This means that if you don't want to get too hot and heavy, you're going to have to pick different people in the circle for each red card turn. If there aren't that many people playing, well, you have a pre-packaged orgy!

5. No spectators allowed. Either play or leave the room. (This is negotiable depending on the desires of those playing. If you like being watched, hey go ahead.)

6. After every round (if you aren't already all having sex and decide to play another one), each player is allowed to put on one article of clothing. Your "make out escalation levels" with each person stay the same in new rounds. You can keep playing for as long as you want.

As I'm sure you can imagine, the fewer players you have, the faster it becomes an orgy. With 4-8 people, you don't have that many make out partners to choose from, so you'll be escalating fairly quickly. You'll also lose more clothing, as there are fewer of you to draw the face cards.

On Saturday night, I played this game with about 12 near strangers at a house party. There was a lovely gender balance: 4 women and 8 or so men. I got to see lots of man make outs! It didn't turn into an orgy (there were too many of us), but it was great fun. However, this meant that I ended up kissing 12 near strangers, with various levels of saliva swapping.

That, my friends, is why I am sick. Oh, well.

My Music and Attitude at Work

I had a really good shift at work the other night. It's funny, because I'd had a migraine the night before and was pretty tired when I got there. I wasn't expecting to do well at all; stripping is very much a job where you get out of it what you put in. If I'm tired, my profits are tired.

On Friday and Saturday nights we always go onstage with a partner, and the woman I was paired with this week likes to dance to heavy metal. In the past, I've been able to dance to the hardcore stuff but not that well. I did better with slow, sensual songs. It was easier for me to get people to stage by seducing them gently than by having a lot of energy and and getting their attention whether they wanted to give it or not. The latter is what the more successful dancers do.

Well, I've realized that now I have a lot more fun when I dance to hardcore music. It's really high energy and last night I felt like I could just go up to the tippers and be ridiculous.

I'm usually a little too reserved, a little too nice, but last night I felt perfectly comfortable being insolent and grabbing their heads or licking their beer bottles (which got a really fun reaction). And I could do all of this without feeling like I was being serious, being actually sexual or bitchy. It felt like I was being ridiculous and it felt like I was having and making fun.

I wonder what this says about my attitude towards stripping. Like I said, the more veteran dancers tend to do better to higher energy, more aggressive music. They're more aggressive with the customers. I just experienced that for the first time. I suppose I'm getting better at the job (I did better monetarily than I have in a while) but also that I've got more of a "stripper," or performative, mentality.

I've thought a lot about this in the last week, and I'll write more on it soon. I think it's time for a reevaluation of how I feel about my work and why I'm doing it. Time to just check in with myself and see how I'm doing.

Visible Panty Lines

I wonder why we don't eroticize visible pantylines?

Thongs, pantyhose, girdles, and all those other "shapewear" items are meant to give a woman the appearance of complete smoothness under her clothes. I mean, girdles and shapewear also literally force women's bodies into more socially acceptable shapes. Covering up panties or making them so tiny you can't see them anyway is part of that. None of these things are comfortable.

Panties are sexy, though. AND comfortable. I mean, god forbid we don't make women contort themselves to look beautiful. Then they'd have time to think about, I dunno, equality and shit.

Why shouldn't the visible bit of the edge of a pair of panties under a tight pair of pants or skirt be sexy, though? Maybe its lack implies that she's wearing no underwear. Mmmm, implied sexual availability, sexual objectification, I guess men love that.

I find that even men tend to like lingerie better than no lingerie, though. A lot of them have made jokes to me about unwrapping "the present." I've noticed that when I wear a very low-cut shirt or dress, it's sexier if I have a pretty bra showing underneath it. Maybe changing what we eroticize is a little compromise, a step towards letting women do whatever they want regardless of what men think.

And frankly, what they think doesn't matter that much. Let's forget it for a second and have a little agency in our own lives and clothing choices. I feel sexy when I'm wearing a nice pair of panties. Especially if they're pretty AND comfortable. It makes me feel good.

So why not? This can be sexy:



And it's a whole helluva lot more comfortable. I'll take my cute cotton underpants over a stiff, lacy thong any day.

Porn in the Library

I'm watching Nina Hartley's Guide to Oral Sex in the library.

We have a theater with a projector and a large screen that any student can use by hooking up their computer. It's attached to a big, well-lit room that's open and used fo studying 24 hours a day.

Now, I love Nina Hartley. I got to meet her this summer and it was all I could do not to go totally squee and fan girl over her. I might have, just a little. She's been in the adult business for 23 years, and she rocks it. She's made I don't know how many films, many of them education pornos meant for (heterosexual) couples. She herself identifies as a "heterosexual butch dyke," which is super fun. She's also written a book, Nina Hartley's Guide to Total Sex.

To be watching her in a neon green transparent body suit demonstrating the joys of cunnilingus on a huge screen in the middle of the library is just making my week.

Here's a great video of her on Julie Goldman's (of the Big Gay Sketch Show) Celesbian Interview Special:

Lesbian video from AfterEllen.com

Body Hair and Shaving

The other night I had a long discussion with a big group of people about the trials and tribulations of body hair.

I was at a party in the house where I used to live, a place full of activists, hippies, and misanthropes. I really loved living there, but I moved out to have my own room for my last year in college.

In the room with me were two men who both have beards and two other girls. We all hated shaving.

One of the guys, T, has a very full beard and he admitted that the biggest reason it's so impressive is that he just doesn't like to shave. It's not so much of a fashion statement as a rebellion against taking a blade to his face every day. A, too, didn't like shaving but happily trims his beard.

The other girls weren't big fans of the razor or its accompanying burns, nicks, and bumps, either. R has blond hair on her legs and so it's not a big deal when she doesn't shave them. She doesn't have to feel too self-conscious, despite the social pressure to have smooth legs.

I hate shaving, too, but I have to do it every time I work, which these days is twice a week. Because my club serves alcohol, it's actually illegal for me to show any pubic hair on stage. If I don't get rid of it all, it'll peek out from under the tiny g-strings we have to wear.

Whenever I shave my bush, I get ingrown hairs. There's just no getting around it. I've tried everything, various razors and shaving products, and it's just a fact of my life. It's not as bad if I can let it grow out for a couple of weeks in between shaves, but I don't have that option with work. If I shave twice within five days, I also get lots of little nicks and it's very uncomfortable. This is just an occupational hazard that I've had to get used to.

My body hair in general is dark and coarse and thick. I have been trying, recently, to be more comfortable with my unshaven legs, but it's still hard. I still think of my body hair as manly, and while I don't mind being a little androgynous, I do like to be feminine and pretty. I feel like people will think less of me for my hairy legs.

But I hate shaving, and I will do as I please when it comes to grooming and presenting myself. It's really silly and awful and arbitrary that women are expected to have no noticeable body hair. I mean, we're humans, it's part of our anatomy. It's just as natural on us as it is on men.

Where did that expectation even come from? Even as a gender studies major and a raging feminist, I have no idea when it started or why. Hmm, that is definitely something to look into. I'll let you know when I find out.

Stripping for Friends

This weekend I drank too much and ended up stripping in my room for my friends.

I have a pole set up in my room, which I spent too much money on but which I love. It keeps some of the stripping addiction at bay if I can spin around the pole to languorous music whenever I want. I also stay in better shape when I'm not working so I don't injure myself when I go back.

It's funny, though, what happens when my friends and I start playing good dance music and the pole is right there. My first instinct is to throw off all my clothes and writhe around. I want to spin upside down and grind my hips and touch myself, right in the middle of my dorm room. When I've had enough tequila, that's exactly what I do.

This creates an odd dynamic.

I'm very open about my job, especially with people my own age in a casual setting. All my friends know what I do, and most of them are kind of delighted to hear and talk about it. It's titillating.

When they come to visit me at the club, though, or when I drink and start acting like a stripper in real life, it gets a little funny.

I like to be good at what I do, and I'm vain enough to want to show off my skills. I take pride in my pole tricks and my lap dancing. But it's not so easy to show one of my friends a really good lap dance trick. If it's really such a good trick, they'll get turned on when I demonstrate.

Now, I like to blur the lines between friend and lover, but it does help to have a few friends around that I don't fuck. Wanting to show off my work to these friends becomes tricky.

That's one of the unfortunate things about working in the sex industry. While it is usually just a job to me, the thought and sight of what I do is so sexually charged to everyone else. Whereas I'm thinking about how my muscles are moving and my balance and where exactly I'm positioned when I put my leg over my head and grind in someone's lap, they're just thinking "Whoa, this is hot." If it's a friend, they're thinking "Whoa, this is hot. But this is my friend! Ack! I don't know what to do!"

I guess that's just one of those things that goes along with the job description. It's also a nice thing about hanging out with other strippers. I can talk shop with them and they get that really it is just a job.

That's so Hardcore, Man!

There's this weird idea that we have as a culture, that there is a scale of sex acts from "normal" to "waaaaaay kinky and degraded and weird." Like drugs, as though sex comes in different doses depending on the act, and that you can develop a tolerance and need More Extreme Sex to maintain your erotic high. You'll keep upping the dosage to stay interested in sex.

I think, though, that basically all sex is created equal. If you've got consent, it's all good. And sure, everyone's turned on more by some things than others. It's just that across the board that all tends to level out and we've got a giant pool of sex acts that are all just sex acts.

Each person is sexually unique, and we all change sexually over time. As we get more comfortable with sex, sure we might want to explore things that we were afraid of before we realized that the social norms are bullshit. But it's not like appreciating one sex act (which may or may not be "extreme") has to affect your appreciation for another.

Like I said, we do all have changing preferences over time, and I think it's all pretty flowy. There are times when I just wanna have sex while spooning because I want closeness and comfort. I want to stare into my partner's eyes and make love like bunnies. There are also times when I want to be tied up in a public bathroom, spanked, and fucked. These desires are not mutually exclusive.

This bleeds into a lot of discourse on sex. You'll hear people saying all the time that they're afraid of exploring their sexuality because "where do you draw the line?" If you watch gay porn, or anal porn, or any fetish porn, or god-forbid-engage-in-any-non-missionary-heterosexual-vanilla-sex-acts, you're starting down a path that will inevitably lead to Bestiality! and Child Molestation! Sex is a slippery slope! (Ahem, so to speak.)

In talks of sex addiction (which I think is mostly bunko), there's the concept that you can be drawn in deeper and deeper to sexuality, as though there is a rote "normal" level of sex and everything else is like heroine: impossible to resist once you've had a taste. I don't want to disrespect anybody who has issues of sexual compulsion, I just think that sex addiction is based way too much on ideas of a norm.

Let's have an attitude adjustment here. Just do what turns you on; it doesn't matter whether it's supposedly kinky or not. We have the ability to choose what we want to do. Our feelings about sex are going to vary hugely from person to person. Do YOU score a 10 on the Richter scale of kink? Who cares? Live your life.

Time Off From Stripping

Stripping is really addictive.

I haven't worked in about a month. I came back to school and I wanted to give myself a little time to settle in, get my shit here in order, before I start working again. The work is really tiring and it inevitably eats some of my weekend social life. I wanted a little time for college life before I get back to the job.

I miss it in so many ways. I hear a hard-rocking song and I just want to be on the pole, naked, under the black lights. I'm not getting laid right now, and I want the energy, the dangerous electricity of playing the tease and getting paid for it. I want my costumes, my girly absurdity and seven inch heels.

There are reasons, though, that I haven't called in to get back on the schedule at the job I know is waiting for me.

Whenever I work, I have a recuperation period. After dancing, talking, and being excessively charming for five hours I tend to lose my ability to be social or hold a proper conversation. I'm just drained; I've used all my emotional energy on the job. That's why stripping (and probably all sex work) is most appropriately categorized as emotional labor. We're working to make others (men) feel good. It can take a lot out of a person.

So when I go back to work, there will be large chunks of time in which yes, I'll be making money, but I also won't be productive in other ways. I won't be able to blog or do homework or work on my honors thesis. It'll just mean I have less time to do all the things I want to do.

I need to go back, though. It'd be nice to have the extra cash, and I really just want the challenge and excitement of it back in my life. Dancing, here I come!