Stand and Fight by Iscah Eve
I’ve always struggled with belonging. It’s part of what makes me, me, I guess… a constant suspicion that something isn’t right about who I am, or what I’m doing, or even why things happen in my life. Yet a much larger part of me, frankly, doesn’t care how uncomfortable I am and acts in complete defiance of those thoughts.
Understanding womanhood has been no different for me. I am a woman, a beautiful, resilient, strong one, but finding my place in womanhood often comes with challenges, ergo my appearance, my attitude, my strength and career, and an often perilous unwillingness to give up in the pursuit of improvement and happiness.
In the real world, I’m a transgender active duty service member, so I must disclose to you, readers, that the opinions expressed in this article are my own and do not reflect the view of the Department of Defense or the United States government.
As a federal employee, the intent of the proposed transgender memorandum written by the Department of Health and Human Services effect me personally. Despite having changed my gender completely on every legal document discerning of who I am, I’ve become increasingly at risk of losing that identity by a crusade set on seeing me removed. First they came for my career and now they come to erase the possibility of my existence in the first place by removing ‘gender’ from the equation. It’s easier to get rid of something when you kill the roots and all of that.
So, perhaps the most inclusive form of womanhood that I’ve experienced so far has been the consistent attacks against it.
The first time I realized this was in a pretty big way, when my white, male doctor tried to warn me that by taking “women’s hormones”, specifically, as a “man taking women’s hormones”, I’d go crazy, yet, he vocalized that how supportive he was of me being transgender and of me transitioning. He couldn’t explain “how” I’d become more crazy, and finally found a way to vocalize his concern by saying “Well, you know how women are. You’ll be like that.”
It hit me like a slap to the face I guess. I wanted to ‘be like that’, I looked up to women and prayed about being just like them, in every possible way, for so long. His perception of women was that, as a normal, they were crazy. This was just a different way to say that ‘women are hysterical’ by someone who I thought ought know and care more, someone educated and privileged and, in that moment, directly and ideologically in charge of my wellbeing. He didn’t stay my doctor for long after this.
One of the more surreal experiences was the loss of friendships. Coming out wasn’t hard for me, I did it one day during roll call pretty early after the Air Force’s iteration of guidance for transgender service members, and for all intents and purposes, it was a positive experience for me. There was a very small scattering of disparaging comments from some of the more brazen civilian employees, but not a single one of my brothers and sisters made me feel unwelcome, with a bare minimum of inappropriate questions that were handled in a professional, calm manner… that is, until many months later when they felt emboldened.
Twitter has, a lot of the time, brought to me some of the best friendships and joy I’ve had in my only sort of young life. So it came with a lot of sadness when I saw a tweet by my oh so loving elected leader from this favourite social community of mine that I was suddenly and abruptly ‘not welcome, capable, or worth being’ in my career. I was pulled into an office that morning to asked, as all good First Sergeants do, if I was okay and if I could work or needed time off. I could work, but of course I wasn’t okay.
Not all of my once supportive coworkers remained supportive. “Well, of course he’d ban it. If you’re born with a dick you’re a man, why should the taxpayer be responsible for you to cut off your pecker?” was the very first comment I heard about it, said someone I never expected. More of this said differently with the same underlying meaning from increasingly empowered bigots followed and it wasn’t very clear to my supervision how to handle it, except from my section lead, who put an immediate stop to any and all comments once she overheard an argument from someone who supported me and someone who didn’t. She didn’t care how powerfully they felt about their opinions, I was to be treated with the same respect I had before and that was that, except that it wasn’t. What had been said was said and there wasn’t going to be take backs later, they weren’t disciplined and I was moved somewhere else where the animosity couldn’t be felt in the air.
These people have mostly been silenced in the greater public voice. Uniformed leadership understands that there isn’t room to treat me with disrespect and adversaries are denied a public forum to talk about me negatively to their begrudging dismay, but I’m constantly reminded that the threat looms just around the corner, or that it’s ‘only a matter of time’ for them to be given the freedom to be hateful.
I’m stronger than them, though. I will continue to outlast and stand in defiance of hatred by doing my job and performing at a level that isn’t easily matched by others. I mean, you know how women are, don’t you? If you don’t, this is how we are… we’re strong, capable, and we persist through an existence of continued hatred. Our bodies are constantly being debated by the court of public opinion and courts of law if they even belong to us, our minds are thought to be inferior and our opinions don’t really matter.
This battle, for me, continues here with the Department of Health and Human Services’ transgender memorandum. I am a tall, muscular woman. Taller than most men and certainly built stronger, yet, my body continues to confuse these people who hate me. I face increasing discrimination by the powerful and people temporarily in charge and the discomfort for myself and, certainly, others continues daily. I’m doing the things that need to be done by being the positive metric, but we still need help. Gender exists and cannot be stamped out overnight to further support an agenda that says womanhood is only about your vagina or chromosomes and being a man is all about having a cock. That it’s something that can be defined.
This isn’t just about our bodies. For me, it’s been about overcoming my adversaries and fighting for our rights. It’s been about being ignored, denied, ridiculed, shamed, and so many others. It’s been about living in fear that I won’t get to decide who or what I am, but, it’s also been about being understood by other women. Having my concerns shared and plights acknowledged. Transgender women are women, and transgender men are men.
Get out and vote. We can and will win this fight together.
ISCAH EVE
WickedWarWitch.com
The author of this piece declined to take the payment for writing this blog post and so we made a donation to a charity of their choice which was Transequality.org
Not My Suitcase of Sex Toys by Quinn Rhodes
We are delighted to host another piece of deliciously sexy erotica on our blog. This time we are welcoming Quinn Rhodes to our site with her story of summer holidays and swapped suitcases.
***
Not every summer holiday features golden sands and turquoise seas.
Sometimes it’s about booking a last-minute flight north, and a brand-new suitcase full of books and sex toys. I needed to get away for a bit, and the peace and quiet of the barren islands appealed. It didn’t hurt that it was cheap, either.
Most, though, don’t involve you grabbing the wrong bag at the airport.
The plane that had flown us there was tiny, as was the airport we arrived in. On reaching my hotel room, I found that the red suitcase I’d taken was older than mine: battered, worn from travelling. It’s not that which alerted me that it wasn’t my bag, though. It was the fact that when I opened it and reached for my Doxy – which should be on top, wrapped in a t-shirt and ready for me to christen my home for the next few days with an orgasm – it isn’t there.
They usually include changes of plans…
Plans to spend the week in my hotel room, getting over my break up with frequent masturbation and science fiction novels quickly vanish. While I can get off with my fingers, there’s not the same variety as fucking myself with different toys. Thus, I end up venturing out into the small town. Standing stones, buried settlements… I’m glad my camera was in my hand luggage. It’s been a while since I’ve tried my hand at non-erotic photography, but the beautiful landscape quickly helps me regain my skill.
… but they don’t often feature detective work.
I can’t help looking through the other suit case I’ve ended up with, just once or twice. I tell myself I’m looking for clues, in the hope I can spot whoever has taken my bag in the cobbled streets. The denim jacket covered in pin badges is helpful in that respect. A ‘Queer As In Fuck You’ badge, a Hufflepuff patch, a badge declaring that it’s wearer uses them/they pronouns, and a non-binary flag pin. These make me like them, as do the non-toxic, body safe toys in the case. There are sketch books as well – I flick through them quickly, wishing I could justify examining the drawings more closely.
They probably shouldn’t involve wanks with sex toys that aren’t yours.
I don’t mean to use the toys; exploring keeps me busy, and photography gives me something to focus on. But neither satisfies my desires, and after two orgasms and an evening of audio porn my fingers aren’t enough to push me over the edge a third time. I borrow the ultra-violet pink and silver-grey Adam dildo, slip a condom over it, and give myself a generous squeeze of lube. I fuck myself hard and fast with the toy, and come with a drawn-out groan, picturing that they were watching me squeeze my cunt around their dildo.
Very few people end up meeting a real-life cute-as-fuck genderqueer Teddy Lupin on holiday –
I call the airline, who inform me they’ll get in touch when they track down my luggage. When they contact me the next day, and I carefully repack the suitcase and lug it to the airport, I know instantly who I’m meant to be meeting. They’re wearing dungaree-shorts and stripy tights and have a pencil stuck behind their ear. They have short, tousled, green-blue hair – which they later describe to me as Teddy Lupin turquoise – and a clusterfuck of freckles. The biggest clue, of course, is that they have a red suitcase at their feet.
– and even fewer end up making out with them two hours later.
When you know there are sex toys in the cases you’re exchanging, it is easier, somehow, to get over any awkwardness. A few minutes of conversation, complete with punning and complimenting each other’s taste in sex toys, leaves me feeling warm and I ask them if they want to grab coffee with me. We continue talking, swapping stories and teasing each other. Soon they’re grinning and making me blush as they tell me sternly to put my purse away and insist on paying. They ask me questions and I end up sharing kinks and fantasies that make me squirm in embarrassment. And before I know it, they are pressing me against the brick wall of the alley beside the coffee shop and sucking a hickey into my neck.
Summer holidays frequently include fucking, sometimes even of the kinky kind.
They insisted on dinner that night, though I’d have happily turned the alley-way make-out into more straight away. They make me scarlet with gleeful shame and dripping wet with the words they whisper to me. We negotiate and flirt and laugh and work out what we’d like to do together. Humiliation and orgasm control are not topics that I feel comfortable about in such a busy place, but the gleam in their eyes tells me how much my stumbling confessions are turning them on. They pour filth into my ear while holding my hand as we walk back to their hotel, and the door has barely shut before they’re ordering me to strip.
However, I’m pretty sure getting pissed on by someone you’ve known less than 48-hours is slightly more unique.
I’m not sure that sleep happened that night. They fuck me with their strap-on, telling me I cannot come. They tie my hands behind my back and make me watch while they fuck themselves with their Godemiche dildo I’d used the other day, then make me use my mouth to clean it. When I lick my lips to taste all of them, they decide that I should use my mouth to make them come. Later they sit on my back, pressing my face into the pillows and jamming a powerful vibrator against my clit so I come – not once, but three times, until my body is shaking uncontrollably.
It takes a brilliant perv to bring a bicycle ride with a butt plug into your holiday.
They persuade me to come with them to visit the tiny chapel built in the 1940s. Partly because I want to spend more time with this funny, clever artist who fucks me so well, and partly because they tempt me with the idea that I could take some naked photos of them, I agree to hire bikes for the adventure. And agree to wear a butt plug while we ride down. I feel the plug push deeper inside me every time I cycle over a dip or bump on the single road and blush every time they grin knowingly at me. They examine my cunt when they remove the plug before our naked photography session, and tease me for being so wet.
Maybe no other summer holiday will ever end with your panties in your new fuck buddy’s suitcase, not to be reclaimed until you meet them in a few days, when they’ve promised to stuff them into your mouth and lead you back to their flat gagged with your own underwear.
I can’t wait.
Harnesses, Toys and Genderfluid Joy By Morgan Peschek
I love having a cunt.
I deeply, sincerely do. I love its versatility, having a G-spot and an A-spot and a clitoris to experiment with and flit between, like having different handbags for different occasions. I love the way it looks, shaved and silky smooth or shrouded in dark, curly hair, encased neatly in lacy knickers or spread open in front of a mirror. I love its resilience, its elasticity and the strength with which I can clench it. And, of course, I love being able to clench it around fingers, penises and toys, and experiencing a whole buffet of different sensations.
It just so happens that I also love playing at having a cock.
I’m non-binary, and my gender identity and gender expression both fluctuate wildly. They exist outside of a linear scale from “masculine” to “feminine”: for example, sometimes I’ll dress in a tank top and shorts from the ‘Men’s’ section of a clothing shop, but with a full face of makeup to set it off. This fluidity means, among other things, that I don’t necessarily want to permanently change my body by transitioning in the ways a binary trans person might, and that I have no problem with keeping the cunt that I love.
It also means that I find it affirming and arousing to play with dildos.
The most obvious example: on a masculine-of-centre day, strapping on a dildo that’s a similar tone to my own skin and gazing down at it makes me feel a whole lot more at ease in my body. Watching someone sucking on said dildo, while their movements grind its base against my real-life clitoris, is almost unbearably hot. Getting to fuck someone with a strapped-on dildo – making them moan and gasp and clutch at the bed-sheets – fills me with a sense of power and strength that feels, in that particular setting, intensely masculine and intensely sexy. Add in a toy in my cunt, moving with each thrust (and strapless strap-ons are fantastic for this), and I can imagine it’s a real-life cock I’m fucking somebody with, until I come and collapse on top of them, shuddering with pleasure.
Playing with toy cocks isn’t always as straightforwardly masculine as that, though. A lot of the toys I own are less phallic and more abstract, and are typically pink or purple or ornate glass – traditionally “pretty” and, by extension, traditionally “feminine” – but that’s no bad thing. When I’m feeling more feminine, toys that are ornate and pretty can feel like a luxury to masturbate with, and can even aid age-play style fantasies wherein I’m all girlish and helpless. Similarly, if I’m feeling feminine and having sex with a girl, I can fuck her with a pretty toy in a harness (which is great for added closeness and sometimes for more forceful thrusting), or in my hand (for added dexterity and precision, and for focusing all my attention on her). Pretty, “feminine” and abstract toys can add to the joy of lesbian sex: they come in a broader range of shapes, producing a broader range of sensations, than imitation penises do, and they contribute to the unique joy of having sex with somebody whose gender is close to or the same as yours, rejoicing quietly in your shared femininity.
I have also used pretty, “girlish” toys on masculine days. Sometimes, I’ve used them simply because I’ve wanted a quick and strong orgasm, and I’ve ignored their appearance for the sake of enjoying the particular spots they might be able to hit (or, on occasion, built their appearance into a fantasy about having stolen the toy from a cute girl’s bedside drawer and needing to wank and put it back before she finds out). Other times, I’ve used them in humiliation scenes with a trusted Dominant, either inside my cunt or strapped on, to toy with the vulnerability I feel when I’m having sex in a more masculine head-space. Humiliation and condescension turn me on like little else, so having my cunt played with (and, often, my nipples tortured) while my Dominant mutters things into my ear about me “coming all over this pretty little pink dildo” will reduce me to a puddle in no time at all. Naturally, scenes which involve gender-related stuff can be more or less vulnerable and “edgy” for different people, depending on their own experiences of gender – but I’m fairly comfortable in my own fluidity, and very secure in the knowledge that my Dominant understands and respects my non-binary identity. And, if it ever gets a bit too close to the bone, I can always use my safeword and revert to a much more gender-neutral toy, like a black wand vibrator.
And therein lies the joy of dildos and vibes: there are literally hundreds of them out there, in different shapes, sizes, colours and materials. You can build them into fantasies and into sexual encounters however you like, meaning that there exists, in theory, an infinite number of ways to have sex involving a toy (or toys!), on your own or with a partner (or partners!) and alongside whatever kinks you practice. If you’re imaginative, or just plain slutty, you can make any toy suit any kind of gender expression, and you can have some excellent sex no matter what your gender identity may be.
First-Time Strap-on Sex for Vulva Owners
[First, a quick note on terms: I am a queer, cisgender woman and am writing from that perspective. However, I have used the term “vulva-owners” and gender-neutral pronouns in this piece as much as possible in order to be more inclusive in my language. Not everyone who has a vulva is a woman, and not all women have vulvas!]
Strap-on sex is amazing. I love both giving and receiving penetration with a strap-on, regardless of the gender or genital configuration of my partner. But how can you get the best out of this often misunderstood sex act?
Let’s Bust Some Myths!
“Queer women who want to be penetrated with a strap-on are actually straight.” Nope! The sex acts you engage in (or the toys you use) have precisely nothing to do with your sexual orientation. A queer-identified person who wants to be vaginally penetrated with a strap-on isn’t secretly wishing they were having sex with a cis man, I promise. Orientation is based on who you do the things with (or don’t,) not on the things you do.
“Using a big dildo will stretch out my vagina permanently.” Again, no. Vaginas are muscles and muscles are pretty incredible things – they stretch and then spring back to their original state. No sex toy – or bio cock – can permanently stretch your vagina.
“The person doing the penetrating doesn’t get any pleasure.” In my experience, this is absolutely not true. There are all kinds of ways to ensure the penetrating partner gets pleasure too – some harnesses have little pockets where you can put a small vibrator to stimulate the wearer’s clitoris, and you can even get “strapless strap-ons” (think the Feeldoe) where one end sits inside the giver’s vagina while they penetrate their partner with the other end. (Note: I do not recommend these for beginners as they’re more difficult to use and control than standard strap-ons.) There’s also pleasure beyond the physical. For me, the “thud” of muscle on muscle as I fuck my partner, and the sounds and expressions of pleasure they make, are hugely gratifying in and of themselves.
Now that we’ve got those out of the way, let’s move on.
Picking the Right Gear
Godemiche recently published a fabulous piece on picking the right harness so do check that out. Personally I recommend picking something comfortable, adjustable, and with the ability to change the ring size so that you can use different dildos with it.
The next step is choosing your dildo. There are four main things to consider:
- Body safety! You want a non-porous and non-toxic material. For a strap-on dildo, that means going for pure silicone. Buy your toys from a reputable manufacturer or retailer, not on eBay or Amazon!
- Size. I recommend starting small if you’re not used to being penetrated regularly. You can always work up. Another option, if you can afford to, is to buy a selection of dildos of different sizes to play with.
- Texture. Some people love being penetrated with textured dildos – think ridges, bumps or realistic “veins”. Others, like me, find it painful. If in doubt I recommend starting with a smooth toy.
- Base. Your dildo needs to have a wide enough base to hold it securely in your harness. Look for words like “flared base,” “strap-on compatible” or “harness compatible” in the product listing.
And finally, don’t forget lube! If you’re using a silicone dildo, you need a good quality, water-based lubricant. Even if you or your partner produces a lot of lubrication naturally, a little extra can’t hurt and will help prevent any bad pain from happening. I recommend Sliquid.
Now the Fun Part!
Okay, you’re all set and you’re ready to have some strap-on fun! I hope these tips will help you and your partner get the most out of the experience.
First, try to take the pressure off yourselves. The goal shouldn’t be for the receptive partner to have taken your biggest dildo up to the hilt by the end of the night. The goal should simply be for you both to have a lovely, connective, sexy time together.
I don’t like the term “foreplay” (the acts we usually refer to as “foreplay” are part of sex!) but for want of a better term, it will have to do for now. So: plenty of foreplay. Start with cuddling, kissing, making out and touching each other until you’re both really turned on. Some people like to have an orgasm – or several – before being penetrated at all. If that’s the case, you can do hand sex, oral sex, play with toys, or masturbate together.
When it’s time for penetration, positioning is important – and what’s comfortable will depend on the size, shape and ability level of your bodies. I’m quite short, so I like to kneel between my partner’s legs and use a pillow or two to lift their hips up, giving me better access to their vagina. You can also use a piece of sex furniture such as a Liberator wedge, if that helps – this can be particularly useful for those in bigger bodies or with limited mobility. Other positions include the receptive partner on their back on the bed while the giving partner stands; missionary; doggie; or on your sides in the “spooning” position. Let your imaginations run wild and position yourselves in whatever way feels natural and comfortable.
You may need to guide the dildo into your partner’s vagina manually. Don’t be afraid to do this – better to have a little help from your hand than to go in at the wrong angle and cause them pain. Slide inside slowly at first, and give them time to adjust to the sensation.
The main tool you need is, of course, communication. Don’t be afraid to communicate verbally before, during and after strap-on play. You don’t need to carry on a full conversation during (unless you want to!) of course, but using your words is an important and underrated skill. Phrases like “How does that feel?” “Are you ready for me to go deeper?” and “Please let me know if anything hurts” are really useful for the penetrating partner. And phrases such as “Harder,” “Slow down a bit” and even “Can we change position, my leg’s going to sleep?” are useful if you’re the one being penetrated.
Try different types of movement. It’s not all about pounding! Try thrusting, try moving your hips in circles while your dildo is inside your partner, try moving the dildo very slowly just a few inches in and out, and try holding still and having your partner clench their vaginal walls around the dildo. Pay attention to the reactions you get and, again, communicate.
Let’s Talk About Orgasm!
The vast majority of people with vulvas do not experience orgasm from penetration alone. This doesn’t mean you’re doing anything wrong, and it doesn’t mean they’re broken! If you’re struggling with this, read Emily Nagoski’s amazing book, Come As You Are. In general, I don’t recommend making orgasm your main or only goal, because goal-oriented sex tends to feel too pressured to be fun. However, if the receiving partner would like to try to reach orgasm during your strap-on play and doesn’t get there just from penetration, you’ll need to introduce some clitoral stimulation. (Even if orgasm isn’t necessarily your aim, lots of people really like having their clitoris stimulated while they’re being penetrated!)
Rub your partner’s clit with your fingers while you fuck them, or have them touch themselves if they prefer – or you could use a vibrator, from a small bullet vibe right up to a mains-powered wand. Whatever feels good for you both, do it. Some people will want you to thrust hard and fast as they get close to orgasm, and others will want you to stop moving and just hold your dildo inside them. The only way to know your partner’s preference is to ask and to follow their body language, so do that!
What if it goes wrong?
In sex, as in life, sometimes things won’t go the way you want them to. Perhaps the receiving partner experiences pain as soon as you try to penetrate them (if this happens regularly, see a doctor.) Or perhaps you just bump their cervix or go in at slightly the wrong angle and it hurts. Perhaps everything’s going well, but one or both of you just can’t quite get off. That’s okay! Things might not go perfectly, the first time or any subsequent time. The key to good sex isn’t everything being perfect, it’s learning how to roll with the punches and adjust.
Good sex should never hurt unless it’s consensual, safely applied pain. So if it hurts, stop! Receiving partners, listen to me: please do not endure pain because you think it’s what your partner wants. No-one who loves you will be okay with hurting you in a way you don’t like.
Try not to see needing to stop or change something as a failure. You’re exploring each other’s bodies and this new activity. If you need to switch position, switch position. If you need a break, take a break. If you need to stop and do something else… you see where I’m going with this. Everything that goes wrong is a learning experience. With tonnes of mutual respect, affection, good communication and emphasis on consent, nothing truly terrible is going to happen – promise.
And afterwards?
Congratulations, you’re done! I hope you had a wonderful time. Now have a long cuddle, tell your partner they’re awesome, and sterilise that dildo! (Boil it in a pot of water on the stove for about ten minutes.) Next time, maybe the other person will wear the cock…?
The Lion and the Unicorn by Ella Scandal
Watching Aaron painting his corkscrew hair is one of my favourite pastimes. When we first met he’d blushed when I caught him converting a patch of grey back to his natural black. After a few months, he’d just smiled sheepishly when I commented on how good he looked with a few highlights. But now? Now my eyes are flickering around as if I’m in the middle of REM sleep, watching his deft hands fly over his locks with primary coloured chalks, powders, and glitters.
Today isn’t just our first Pride event as a couple. It’s Aaron’s first ever. We met just after last year’s, in a café on the high street. I’d just thought he was a hetero guy. A straggler from the gig that had gone on at the university. It was his band tee that had made me assume, you know? I’d been worried that he was about to start something, with the way he kept staring at me. But when he did open his mouth it was to confess that he’d spent all weekend on the periphery of our colourful celebrations, all constricted and closeted and not knowing how to get out. Even today, he’s still half in, but that’s all about to change in the hugest of ways.
See, this year’s event will be televised. My sister, Syd, had called us brave this morning when we said we weren’t put off by the idea of cameras. I’d been so fucking proud when my usually meek boyfriend looked her square in the eye and said, “You’re calling us brave for going about the every day business of living our lives? You sure you’re an ally?”
The way he’d pulled back his shoulders and lifted his chin… it was the first time I’d ever seen him look so sure of his own identity. Damn, it had made my dick so hard. And now, thinking about how ferociously we’d fucked in the kitchen when Syd left is making me hard again.
As I watch Aaron finish blending a bright purple stripe of hair with a neon pink one, he shifts his gaze. He holds my eyes but doesn’t stop. He just switches to a different brush and starts to blend in some red. When his lips quirk into a smile I know he’s noticed. At this stage I’m only wearing a thong and a multi-coloured chain chest harness, so he knows what’s what.
All it takes is a sharp move of his desk chair for me to know what he wants me to do. There’s room for me now, under the table that’s littered with pots and powders. I don’t walk to him. I crouch, fall forward and let my hands slap against the floorboards, then crawl. I prowl across the room, chest so low it’s almost skimming wood. Even though my head is pulled back I still have to look up at him through my lashes.
Aaron pauses in the middle of smudging orange into the red stripe and groans, “Jesus, every time you look at me like that I just want…”
When I reach him, I smell him. Patchouli, black pepper, and vanilla. His signature shower gel. It’s faint at his ankles. His giggle when I lick his instep isn’t, though. It’s loud and it reverberates through me, making my eyes roll as I run my tongue up his shin bone, as I drag it through the rough hair and wrinkle my nose against the tickle.
As soon as I reach a patch of soft, smooth skin I start to suck. Aaron widens his legs and I see an opportunity. His cock is only half erect, but not for long. God, I can barely breathe. I’m about to do something that’ll make him purr and I know the sound will have me fucking the floorboards. I twist my neck, push my face into the hollow at the back of his knee, and bite.
“Fuck!”
A make-up brush bounces off my hand and rolls under the desk. I bite deeper, form a seal with my lips and suck so hard I know I’ll leave a lingering mark. But I won’t stop. I can’t stop, because Aaron’s heels are digging into my shoulder blades and he’s squirming so much his chair starts to roll over the floor.
I follow, still latched on, and as soon as the chair hits the bed I shift. Hands on Aaron’s soft thighs, pulling myself up, dipping my head to kiss and nibble my way over his skin. His goosebumps almost make me laugh, but my mirth fades when I catch another scent. The patchouli and pepper are stronger here, but there’s something else layered beneath them. It’s the scent of Aaron. Of his crotch. The natural fragrance that always clings to his pubic hair no matter how well he washes.
He’s supposed to be the big cat today, but I’m the one roaring. I’m the one losing my shit, lunging at his cock and taking it to the back of my tongue before I’m even ready. I gag. Splutter through my nose. Feel my eyes watering and don’t give a fuck about mascara tears because Aaron is already grabbing my hair and pumping his groin.
I love this. Love having his cock in my mouth. Its taste, its size, the feel of his foreskin moving beneath my tongue. The stretch of his over pronounced head pushing past the last barrier in my throat and sinking into my oesophagus makes my arse spasm.
Holding my head still, Aaron fucks my mouth. His balls slap of my chin. We’re not even on the bed and the springs are squeaking. I’m going to cry. Puke. Pass out. Come. Fuck, I’m so close to coming and my cock hasn’t even been touched.
Aaron must know. I don’t even realise he’s withdrawn until he’s on his knees in front of me, shuffling closer until our chests are touching. He grabs my cock and mashes it against his, shaking his wrist and wanking us both at the same time. I’d love to help, but I’m so overcome with desire it’s rendered me useless.
And this is what Aaron loves. Me, so fucking delirious with need for him that I become nothing more than thrusting hips, a ravenous mouth, and animalistic growls.
In a desperate bid to keep myself upright, I grab the edge of the desk. Aaron gasps, a sure sign that he’s about to blow, and my sack tightens in response. My balls ache so much I realise I’m afraid of this orgasm. How fucking intense is it going to be?
So intense I throw my head back and holler at God. Is that my spunk or Aaron’s splashing my Adam’s apple? Why do I want to get back on all fours so that he can fuck me? My head drops forward and I open my eyes. What the fuck? Aaron is laughing, and I immediately see why. A rogue pot must have rolled off the desk when I grabbed it and spilled its contents over our dicks. Mingled in with our sticky come is the cutest iridescent powder.
“Well, you did say we just have to be ourselves today,” Aaron says with a grin. He grabs my headpiece off the bed and fits it just above my sweaty forehead. “I wouldn’t be a lion if I didn’t have my rainbow mane, and you wouldn’t be a unicorn if you didn’t jizz glitter.”
The Origins of Pride
People go to Pride for various reasons. Some go because it’s the only time they get to relax and be themselves, some go as a way to protest against the 74 countries where same sex relationships are still illegal; most go to enjoy the big colourful party. However, none of these are the reasons why Pride started in the first place, so let me tell you a little about its origins.
America 1950’s/60’s
Being part of the LGBT+ community in 1950’s and 60’s America was tough. Homosexuality was illegal and therefore being part of the community alienated you from society. Young people were evicted by their families for bringing shame and employers shunned people for their sexuality.
One area of New York City, Greenwich Village, was known for its more liberal attitudes and this was where those marginalised by society were most likely to be found, those that were members of the LGBT+ community alongside people who were homeless or had nowhere else to turn. The bars and clubs in the area often welcomed LGBT+ community members in the way most businesses didn’t. Police were aware of this and routinely raided the venues, though they were mostly after payoffs in return for not arresting and publishing the names of the customers.
27th June 1969
The turning point was a raid on one such bar, a bar which at the time was owned by the Mafia and whose name is synonymous with LGBT+ campaigns, The Stonewall Inn, on 27th June 1969.
On the night in question a police raid occurred at the bar, on this occasion there had been no tip off and the raid occurred later into the night than raids usually occurred so was unexpected. There were around 200 people in the bar that evening, many of whom tried to run as they realised what was happening but were prevented from doing so by police who were blocking the doors and windows.
Normally people would be separated into two groups, the men would be lined up at the bar while the female presenting customers would be taken into the women toilets to have their sex verified by a female police officer. Any man refusing to give his ID or who was dressed as a women would then be arrested. However, on this occasion many refused to hand over their ID and with the growing hostility it was decided to process everybody at the police station instead.
By this point a crowd had grown outside the bar, the cars and vans needed to take people to the police station hadn’t arrived. As the crowd grew larger still the police started lashing out at a crowd who, thanks to police action during anti-war demonstrations of the time, were anti-police. As one lesbian was bundled into the back of a van, having allegedly been hit over the head with a police baton, she yelled at the crowd ‘Why don’t you guys do something?’ That was all it needed to turn a crowd into a mob.
Some people managed to escape from the police and more still attempted to turn the police vans on their sides. They found bricks from local construction sites and begun hurling these at the police along with cans of beers and anything else to hand that could be used as a weapon. As with situations like this violence breeds violence and soon parking meters had been uprooted and were used as battering rams to reach the police that had barricaded themselves into the Stonewall Inn and flaming rags were thrown through the smashed windows.
All in all it took almost 3 hours for the streets to settle down again, 13 people had been arrested, many people had been hospitalised and 4 police officers had been injured. The Stonewall Inn itself had been destroyed, everything in it had been smashed and broken apart. Each night the violence and rioting began again and this cycle lasted for around a week before it abated and a calmness was restored.
The feeling many people had, as riots began again the following night, was more and more groups had come along and were supporting the LGBT+ community. This is something that nobody had experienced before. Some members of the community seized this opportunity and started leafleting, asking for bars to be run by the community and move away from the problems with the Mafia. Other members of the community hung their heads in shame and didn’t want to be associated with violence, they would rather be part of the general population and keep themselves hidden.
Stonewall Legacy
Obviously what happened at the Stonewall Inn wasn’t the first altercation or protest for rights, however, many people see it as the turning point. Gone were the days of quiet pleas for change, now was the time to be vocal and demand change. Within 6 months of the riots three different LGBT+ publications were in circulation. Sadly the raid on the Stonewall Inn certainly wasn’t the last, in one such raid someone so scared of the repercussions of arrested for being gay, jumped out of the police station window and impaled himself on the railings below. It was this point calmer protests were held, speaking to the police rather than reacting with violence.
The first anniversary of the raid on the Stonewall Inn saw a large gathering at the site to mark the change. There were several other gatherings in the large cities in the US and these were considered the first Gay Pride marches. The second anniversary of the raid saw a march through the city of New York that took up 15 blocks, more support was gained throughout the march compared to the amount of hostility it created.
London Pride
London had its first organised march in July 1972, on the closest Saturday to the anniversary of the Stonewall uprising, this march had around 2000 participants. Although it did have an unofficial gathering on the first anniversary of the uprising with around 150 participants. London Pride is now one of the biggest Pride events in Europe but is certainly not the only Pride event to happen in the UK. There are now over 100 events in the UK and increasing every year, from small community events right through to the larger events.
Whilst the original reasons of Pride have become diluted, they have certainly become more and more diverse in whom they attract. You were hard pushed to find many women at the first few marches, with some actually having their own separate events. Now there is a huge spectrum of the LGBT+ community and their allies joining in for one big colourful party with each individual having their own personal reasons for being there.
Whilst June is Pride month because it’s the anniversary of the Stonewall uprising because of the huge number of Pride events that are held worldwide now they stretch out over the next couple of months to give us one long colourful summer.
An Easter Tale
Eric tried to gather as much seasonal good cheer as possible for the coming spectacle. The very staid affair of suits, ties, church services, and dealing with his father-in-law. Things he had to do to keep the peace, but made the holiday difficult to tolerate.
It would be hours of listening to a lecture on doing better in his corporate job and getting a bigger house. It would culminate in talk of children. Eric plucked at his collar, feeling the weight of the coming day settling on his chest.
“Are you almost ready, Olivia?”
He walked into the room and was stopped in his tracks. His wife was face down in the bed, ass in the air, wearing nothing except a white bra. She spread her legs when he entered, showing him her fingers as she played in her cunt and the white bunny tail plug nestled between her cheeks. Her favorite dildo, a multi colored cock that glittered in the light, lay wet on the bed near her lips. Fucking hell.
“Just about.”
Her voice was a breathy whimper that made his cock harden painfully.
“Olivia…”
He approached the bed and trailed his fingers along the curve of her butt. She shivered under his touch, arching so he could see more of her fingers thrusting. Eric grasped the tail, pulling and pushing so the bulb teased the flesh of her anus and made her moan deep in her chest.
“We’ll be late for service.”
Even as he said that, he was unbuttoning his dress pants to free his cock. His eyes shifted from her cunt, her labia fat and wrapping around her fingers as she thrusted, and her mouth glossed to a high sheen. Eric could bump her plug as he fucked her, adding a teasing sensation to his own pleasure. But her mouth…
It was nothing to grip her coiffed hair and guide her mouth to the head of his cock. He pulled her forward as he pushed deep into her throat. A hard slap to her ass caught the tail and elicited the most erotic moan that reverberated up his cock. He grit his teeth as his balls tightened. A shudder breath and he was back under control.
He took up a steady rhythm then. His hand landing in a loud clap that made her tail jump and his cock thrusting into the warmth of her mouth. All the while, her fingers worked to find her climax. Just the fact that they were going to turn up to Easter service late, her cunt soaked and her belly full of his come, had him riding the edge after only a few moments.
“You’d better come quickly or I’ll be sending you to mass with that tail on under your dress.” He yanked until her eyes were on his. “Then I’ll tease it all through dinner until you beg me to fuck you in the bathroom while your family devours hot cross buns.”
That sent her into an orgasm so intense, he had to keep hold of her head so his cock stayed buried in the heat of her throat. Her plug bounced with the buck of her hips, the fluff waving in air. The way she groaned around him, a low hum that seemed to move through his whole body, sent him plunging over the edge. He was forced to lock his knees to keep his trembling legs from failing him.
Olivia released his softening cock with a sigh, her eyes glazed and her lips glossy with spit and come.
“Guess I’ll get dressed before dad wonders where we are.”
He grabbed her wrist, halting her movements, and brought her wet fingers to his mouth. The taste of her on his tongue was better than any Easter chocolate he’d taste today.
“Leave the plug.” Eric patted her bottom as he stepped away. “I’ll want to play with my little bunny later.”
Suddenly, the prospect of spending Easter with his father-in-law didn’t seem so bad.
Yes, Miss
She watched me twirl the panties around my finger. As I approached the bed where she lay splayed open, her eyes skipped from the flash of the panties as they spun and the bounce of my naked breasts.
“Open those legs wider for me, little girl.”
Obedient little thing. The way she moved the moment I spoke made my cunt hum.
She bent those long legs up and then spread them so the lips of her pussy parted. Wetness dampened the hair that decorated her mons and around her vulva. The fact that she didn’t wax or shave, that the musky scent of her intensified, turned me on so much I wanted to lick her from clit to asshole. Later, I’d taste her and the thick cream she’d produced just for me. After I’ve fucked her.
I stepped into the panties, sliding them nice and slow up my thighs to settle them on my hips. They’re comfortable against my skin, the crotchless back let cool air tease my cunt as I bent over her. The band is thick and lays flat against my tummy. I considered grabbing a vibe to put in the secret pocket near the front, but disregarded that idea. I didn’t need any help coming.
Her eyes are on the panties now. I fingered the O-ring, enjoying the way her brown nipples tightened to harder points. She reached up to tease those trembling peaks just I reached the bed. I batted away her hands and slapped one breast.
“Did I tell you that you could touch yourself, little girl?”
“No, Miss.” Her long lashes swept low to hide her eyes, but she opened them quickly.
I stepped up on the bed, prowling over her body so I can lay a kiss on her lips. Her mouth is soft and tasted of the moscato I’d given her earlier. I deepened the kiss, tasting all that sweetness with my tongue until she started panting.
The dildo I picked is a vibrant pink color, opposite to the almost understated nature of the panties. I pull it from bedside table drawer and tap her lips with it.
“Open.”
Those full lips parted and I slipped the dildo into her mouth. She started sucking, her eyes holding mine as she took it deeper. Her tongue swirled around the head as I pulled it out. I pushed it back in, loving the way she gagged on it. She never once took her eyes off of me even as tears blurred her vision.
I’d never thought about having a penis, but the way her lips sealed around the fake cock had me thinking of her wet mouth in a different way.
The dildo slid into the O-ring with ease. Unable to stop myself, I moved up to straddle her chest. She knew exactly what I wanted, opening her mouth again so I can push into her throat one more time.
“Get it good an wet for me.”
Such a good girl. Her eager mouth and tongue worked the dildo again. She released it with a pop that made my clit throb and gave me the look of a woman who knows exactly what she’s doing to me.
I grab the lube off the bedside table and move me down between her spread legs. If it’s possible, she’s wetter than she was before. Her thighs tremble as I run my nails from hip to knee. Her clit pokes out from between and I tap it. The way her hips thrust up seeking my hand makes me chuckle. She gave a little whine.
“Tell me what you want? Use your words.”
Her breath hissed from her as I dipped one finger in her hot cunt.
“Please fuck me.”
I drizzled lube on her clit and her hips thrust up again. Grabbing the base of my cock close to the panties, I tease her with the head. She whimpers and tries to push so the head slips in.
“Uh uh. Beg me, little girl. Beg me for my cock.”
It was my cock. The way I held it, teased her with it, and the way it laid against my body so close. This was mine to wield and use on my girl.
She bit down on her lower lip and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Please, Miss, I need you. I need your cock inside me.”
The quiver in her voice pulled me in. I tapped the head on her clit, slid it down, and then pushed inside. Even though I couldn’t feel it, not her wet heat or the squeeze of her body, the way she gasped and trembled beneath me had me close to coming in an instance.
It took a few thrusts to figure out the rhythm, the movement foreign. Once I caught the tempo of it, I found myself gripping her hips and fucking her with rolling thrusts.
“Oh god.” Her whimpers turned into full blown cries of pleasure as I pulled her into me.
Her hands gripped my wrists, her short nails digging into my skin. She moved with me effortlessly.
I glanced down, watching as the pink dildo, my cock, entered and exited her cunt. She’d covered it in her juices, the surface glistened in the light.
“Oh. God.” Her words were desperate, snapping back to her face contoured in pleasure. “I’m going to come.”
“Come on my cock, little girl, do it.”
She gave a harsh cry and arched her back. I knew her cunt was squeezing for all it was worth. Her breasts bounced in the most enticing way. I leaned forward, careful to keep my thrusts steady, and latched on to one of those tempting nipples. Every bit of her tasted sweet.
When she relaxed, I slowed to a stop, leaving the dildo seated inside her. I kissed her lips, loving the dreamy look on her face.
“May I fuck you with the strap on next, Miss?”
Her cheeky smile was back and my cunt gave a spasm of agreement. Such a naughty little girl.
***
This piece was inspired by this beautiful image of Monkia wearing a RodeoH harness which was taken to celebrate the launch of us selling Rodeoh products.
A Grown-up Christmas List.
Yes it is that time of year again and everyone is searching for that perfect Christmas gift. Now here at Godemiche we obviously have plenty of options for you to peruse but we also like to be helpful to our costumers and so we have put together this little list of alternative ideas that grabbed our attention this year.
If wet and messy play is your thing then you are going to love Slube. You can use it in the bathtub, you just rinse it away with water afterwards or you could keep until the warmer months and use it in a paddling pool. At the moment this product is part of The Kinksters Black Friday sale and so is a super bargain at just £4.99. Surely worth taking a gamble on and slipping (pun intended) into someones Christmas stocking
This vibrator was only launched a couple of months ago and it looks like no other vibrator we have ever seen before. It uses the innovative PulsePlate Technology™ that was famous in their Pulse range of toys and adapts it for clitoral stimulation and right now they have a sale on and so you can grab one at a bargain price.
Now this one is not strictly a Christmas present, but Christmas cards and these are not your run of the mill Robins in the snow or nativity scenes. These cards are funny, silly, naughty, and rude and ideal if you are looking something very non traditional to send this year.
Yes I know we said other ideas but we thought we would put this on the list as after lots of requests from you we have added different sizes to the Hercules so as well as the original large it now comes in both medium and small which we think will mean there is a size to suit everyone’s taste.
How about something completely different and sign up your beloved for Girl on the Net’s amazing audio porn project on Patron. There are different levels depending on your budget but for $5 a month the recipient would get exclusive access to her audio recordings. If you pledge more money though you get additional benefits!
Bollocks Tankard by Outlandish Creations
Outlandish Creations make all sorts of mugs, plates, and tea cups. At first glance they look like something you would find in a posh china shop or your Grandmothers best china cupboard but when you read the words on them you realise they are not quite so innocent. We love this Bollocks mug but if you bollocks are not your thing then don’t be off because there is all sorts of naughty ones to pick from.
Socks are surely a Christmas stocking staple but these are not just your ordinary run of the mill socks these are boob socks. I mean come on now, how brilliant is that?
Peek & Beau Riley Velvet Bra by Playful Promises
Lingerie for Christmas? I know it sounds a bit cheesy but seriously the stuff from Playful Promises is so divine that I really don’t think you can go wrong. Picking a favourite was almost impossible but in the end this decadent wine red velvet just screamed Christmas sexy to me and if you are going to get this then make sure you team it with the perfectly delicious matching knickers.
Make Your Own Neon Effect Sign – Blue by Very
Whilst this might look innocent enough surely those with a vivid and filthy imagination like myself can see the potential in this super cool gift. I can just see it hanging on a bedroom wall saying Fuck, or Lust or Come or, well that is up to you, but you can see what I mean though.
BDSM Tan Leather Discipline Strap Spanking Paddle Toy “The Holy Hell” by American Ruin
This is not for the faint-hearted or for the new or inexperienced to impact play because even though I have never felt this monster on my bottom I can tell you that the name The Holy Hell is exactly what I think if when I look at it. That things is going to hurt like hell but I also think it is going to leave amazing marks and so if that is your thing then this unique spanking strap would make a fabulous gift for the Dom type in your life.
Commissioned art work by Oh Tom Starling
Seriously check out this guys work. It is amazing and wouldn’t it make for a wonderfully unique and thoughtful gift to give to someone? A commissioned portrait. I know what you are thinking, that must be insanely expensive but according to his website they are just £35.
Is any Christmas stocking complete without some chocolate? Instead of the usual selection boxes or After Eights why not go for something completely different but perfectly seasonal.
Christmas can be a stressful time of year especially when it comes to finding the perfect gifts for the people you love so hopefully these twelve gift ideas will go some way to helping you with that conundrum.
Fun Positions For Strapon Sex
Strapon sex and pegging doesn’t have to the same old bend over boyfriend. Because of where the prostate sits in relation to the anus, different positions can give him a whole new experience. Likewise, incorporating sex toys into your strapon sex can be just whats needed to spice things up.
Also for an apprehensive partner, bending over can bring up intimidating images of ‘jail house bend over and take it’ scenarios. In this case using different positions is often the key to helping your lover open up to the pleasures that anal sex can hold for him.
Also, like typical PIV sex, different positions during strap-on sex provide different sensations and opportunities to take your strap-on sex to new levels of enjoyment.
Missionary is one of the easiest positions for strap-on sex. In this position, she can sit or kneel comfortably in-between his legs and not having to worry about keeping balance. Also, it’s easy to see his anus and guide the phallus in without having to awkwardly fumble around. With him on his back, there’s full access to his penis and balls and he has full access to her breasts. With a bit of imagination, this position can be incorporated in a variety of ways. Such as, a pillow can be positioned to lift his bottom up for easier access or he can even be on the edge of the bed with her standing-between his legs.
Cowboy is a fun position that allows him to be in the driver’s seat. With the female partner laying on her back and him straddling her body, he’s in full control of the angle, depth, and pace of penetration. This is ideal for those women who are a bit nervous about taking control. It can also be adapted to reverse cowboy to give him a different sensation.
Like a missionary, he’s fully exposed for extra stimulation and with eye to eye there’s connection and ease of communication between you both.
The lap dance is another great position that allows him to be in full control of the fun. With the woman sitting in a chair, he straddles her lap either facing her or turned around backwards. In this position, she can easily reach his penis for extra stimulation.
Tailgate is a good position for those who enjoy rear entry. With him lying face down and her lying on top of him, this position allows you have skin to skin contact. She’s in complete control of the penetration and can feel extra stimulation herself by grinding her clit against the dildo’s base.
Spooning is another fun position for the skin to skin contact. However, unlike Tailgate, in this position, his penis is exposed for extra stimulation. Spooning works well for couples of different body sizes and heights. When enjoying strap on sex in this position, penetration is shallow and a longer dildo might be needed to reach the P-spot.
Doggie style is probably the most common position used for strap on sex. Perfect for ladies who are new to pegging, this position allows her to easily penetrate and maneuver. It allows her to clearly see his anus, find her center of gravity and get used to the rhythm of thrusting. Also, it’s easy for him to stimulate his penis in this position. Doggie style is also great for those who desire to explore dom/sub role-playing, his bottom is up and ready to be spanked while you play.
In any position where his manhood is exposed, a sex toy can be add. Toys such as a Fleshlight can give him a whole new experience. Not only is he able to feel stimulation both anally and on his penis, it’s a fun way to fulfill a threesome fantasy without actually bringing in another partner. The Fleshlight can be held by either partner or in-between cushions to hold it in place.
Another fun toy to use during strap on sex is a wand; preferably cordless. With a wand massager placed on the dildo, the vibrations can be felt throughout the dildo to stimulate his prostrate and her vulva at the same time. A wand massager can also be held against his perineum or the penis’ head for more intense sensations. Although wands are fun to use in this fashion, any vibrator can be used.
You can take your strap on play to a whole new level by exploring dom/sub roles. Positions such as Doggie Style gives full access to his turned up bottom for a spanking. Using paddles, floggers or even a short crop can be just what your new sub needs to be a good boy.
These by no means are the only ways to enjoy pegging, virtually any position will work well. Use your imagination and be creative. Because of where the prostate is in relation to the anus, each position will feel different for him and open up new possibilities for extra stimulation.
There’s no right or wrong way to play. No matter what position you choose, remember, have fun and explore.
This blog post was written by Lori originally for ThatPosition (site offline).