Category Archives: Gay or Straight?

Overreacting, or Right On The Money? TWITTER SPAT!

A Twitterer I was following, who has hundreds of followers, made a couple comments in the last couple days in which he’s using homosexual terms to insult others, like “gay” and “faggot”.
Strikes me as a very grade-five thing to say, and I call him on it. Publically. He called me politically correct and blocked me.
Here’s my Twitter feed’s archive. Now here’s the exchange.
Greg Scott’s initial comments:

Professional soccer players are such faggots.

When I call pro soccer players faggots I am referring to their repeated dramatic displays of injury, the most disgraceful in all of sport.

And, the next day:

Pink tie against a pink dress shirt with a grey blazer. Good gravy. The CBC National weather guy has every right to dress gay but why?

So, I said:

First some athletes are “faggots” now this guy dresses “gay”? Wanna get a 21st century vocab and ditch the homophobia?

To which he wittily retorted:

Your fear of language and over reaction to words evokes a stifling political correctness I’d prefer you not share with me.

And I got blocked. Dang, Hilda, when am I gonna learn to play nicely with others?
Mm. Yes. I’m just SO politically correct. That’s all this blog smacks of, all day long. Political correctedness. Its predecessor was called The Cunting Linguist but when I got interviewed on San Francisco radio and they couldn’t say the blog name, I thought, “Well, that’s no good.” So here we are at Smut and Steff. Politically correct? My fucking ass.
Wanker. In the world’s largest language, with more than a million words, you have to use “faggot” and “gay” as your adjectives? Your definition of “faggot” as it pertains to the soccer players, for instance, sounds more like a word I know as “actors” or some would even say “hams”, and I’m not opposed to insulting pigs.
Also, I think the fashion-challenged meteorologist sounds more “effeminate” or even “sissy” than gay, since most of the gay men I know can kick most straight mens’ asses. As Jon Stewart says, “Gay goes to the gym.”
But, really, as long as we’re living in a world where people are still carrying placards that reads “God hates fags” and are dressing their kids in shirts like these? Yeah, I’m going to make a comment when fuckwits banter about words that sound a little laced with hate and judgment and 1960s mentality, thinking they’re all witty and cute. Somebody should. And I fucking VOLUNTEER.
When you’re using it as an insult, pal, you’re saying it’s a bad thing, you’re judging. And itmakes you an ass, even if it’s just you in your smug urban-hipster posturing.

But hey. I’m just a politically correct cunt with an itchy Twitter-finger. So what do I know?

Hate Speech? I Call Bullshit.

Sigh. I like my gay people, you know? My best friend’s a gay guy, I’ve had lesbian and bi-sexual friends all my life, and I’ve been a staunch defender of gay rights since I was in my teens, long before it ever got popular. I think my mother thought I was a lesbian in training when I said, “But, Mom, people should be able to love whoever they love.” I mean, I was 14 and it wasn’t even 1990 yet.
Even though I like my gay people, I’m going to say a few things here that might get me in trouble.
Here in Vancouver, the Human Rights Tribunal is convening to investigate complaints that a comedian used hate speech when he flamed a couple lesbians at his show in May.
Here’s where we have a big ol’ class, boys and girls, about how Canada and the United States are different. So let’s digress and give y’all the crash course, okay, for where it pertains to the right to speak freely?
We Canucks have freedom of speech… sort of.
The USA has carte blanche on freedom of speech, so it’s no surprise we’ll hear hate-spewing fuckheads shouting racist remarks followed by “I got a right to speak free, man!”
Here in Canada, no such thing would occur. Why? Inciting hatred is illegal.
Hey, that’s what you like about us, after all. We’re nice, we’re polite, we’re Canadians. We even say please and thank you. And, we promise, when we talk smack about ya, at least we’ll do it nicely. (Most of the time.)
Aside from the incident last month, there’s another case quietly being heard in the courts, getting little press out there in the world, which is surprising, because it’s huge. MacLean’s Magazine dedicated an entire issue in 2007 to Islam in the world today, which was staggering in its slant against Islam. I mean, I’m open-minded, have known Islamic people, and even taught ESL to Saudi Arabian Muslims who I thought were, by far, some of the kindest and most generous people I’d ever met.
And, even still, after reading that issue of MacLean’s, because it was MacLean’s (Canada’s equivalent to Newsweek, and just as trusted) I found myself becoming slightly more anti-Islamic than I’d used to be, which shocked the hell out of me.
Now MacLean’s is facing a lawsuit from the public as well as the government, for spreading hatred. It’s been a long, long time since such a lawsuit has been heard here, though, and against such a venerable publication. And, in this instance, I’m proud and happy that our laws are speaking up and saying that MacLean’s biases against Islam, and trying to argue against it, are the equivalent of “mild-mannered” hate-speech. Good.
So into this current climate wades a new controversy. A human rights tribunal will convene to hear the case of Lorna Pardy versus Guy Earle and Zesty’s Restaurant.
The gist of it all? Basically, a comedian heckled some lesbians at his open mic night he was hosting.
There’s no Youtube video, unfortunately, so much of what transpired is he-said/she-said. What is claimed is that these lesbians were out on the patio all night, getting loaded with drinks, and then they came right into the “club” part of Zesty’s Restaurant on Commercial Drive, sat at the front, and started making out.
The comedian, Guy Earle, says he was pissed off by the disrespect of strolling into a comedy show just to make out — full tongues, everything, in the front row. He says he doesn’t care if you’re “gay, straight, or giraffes”, it’s just rude. He got pissed off and launched on them.
Apparently he made comments like “You’re fat, you’re old, you’re not even lesbian!” and brought up comments about sex toys and such. There’s not a lot of context being put towards these alleged remarks, so it’s hard to really beef it up. He admits he got angry, he says they took it up a notch too.
A question flying around Vancouver is, at what point does the age-old tradition of heckle-smashing in comedy routines become hate speech? Or does it ever?
And here’s where I might get myself in trouble here.
Vancouver’s Commercial Drive, where this went down, is considered many things — the counterculture capital of Canada, a hip place, a great restaurant street, little Italy, where to catch the World Cup of Soccer… but it’s also acknowledged as home to some of the most militant lesbians out there.
We’re talking really, really militant lesbians sometimes. I heard someone describe it as, “Well, comparing them to your average lesbian is like comparing an average black person to a Black Panther, minus all the violence and stuff. They’re just really out there.”
I find that statement a little over the top, but it’s certainly accurate to what the PERCEPTION is from some of the folks out there.
So, if some of them are that in-your-face, the question is, how much did the lesbians in question throw that in his face, and at what point does what you flaunt about yourself mean you’re permitting that to become a weapon against you?
I mean, if you’re acting like a militant lesbian, isn’t that the first thing someone who’s pissed off at you is going to notice and comment on? What, in the name of being politically correct and not hurting anyone’s “alternate lifestyle” sensibility, you’re supposed to try guessing at randomly arcane “safe” things to insult them about? Like, what, “I bet you take your library books back late, bitch”? Right, yeah.
Like, if some fucking asshole driving a Jaguar acts all entitled about making an illegal turn in front of you while driving his Jaguar, what’s the first thing he’s going to get insulted about? “Yeah, you fuckers and your Jaguars, you’re all entitled assholes,” right? Is it a stereotype? Yeah, but it’s a stereotype the guy perpetuated. If he was driving a Civic, you’d find some other obvious way in with the insults. It’s how we roll, man.
This is different, I think, than the Michael Richards tirade where he started launching into black men for being black, and calling them “nigger” and saying 50 years ago was better when they’d had forks shoved up their asses. This is very different than that. VERY different from that.
This is two lesbians walking into a comedy show and fucking making out in the front row. It’s fucking RUDE. If it was a STRAIGHT couple, I’d ask for their asses to be taken the fuck out of the club, ‘cos I think it’s uncalled for that someone sits in the front row and just goes at it full-out with their partner. Sit in the fucking back, you know? It’s the civilized thing to do. But because it’s two lesbians who, I think, deserved to be called out for walking in and disrespecting this other person’s career and efforts by sitting there and rudely making out in the front row it’s somehow homophobic?
These chicks were just wanting to start something, I think. A club on Lesbian Central, a couple militant dykes camping out front row after getting loaded on booze, and then smack-talking the comedian? Yeah, sounds like someone was button-pushing.
And it’s bullshit. If anyone is acting like a militant lesbian or a militant Christian or a militant Muslim or a militant racist or even just a militant dick, they deserve to be called out on what they’re acting like. If they’re being antagonistic and trying to use their beliefs or lifestyle as a get-out-of-jail free card because they pissed someone off and the other party has said something mean to them, then they oughta fuck right off.
They want to be all in-your-face about their beliefs and their lifestyle, then when someone calls ’em on it and comments and gets back in their face, then they want to turtle and claim the “offending party” is some big, bad meanie who’s spewing hate speech? FUCKING HYPOCRITE.
Comedians have always treated hecklers mean. It’s an unwritten rule of attending comedy: Keep your fucking mouth shut if you don’t want the comedian to spank you on the stage.
They’ll trash talk anyone who makes a scene — and that’s most particularly the job of someone like Guy Earle, who was the host of an open mic night, since he’s the guy who had to give a night full of amateurs a little structure. Why? Because everyone wants to show up and be the hot shit who makes the headline comic squirm. Anyone who goes to comedy shows knows this is true — there’s always some asshole with six beers in ’em who thinks they belong on stage, so they smack-talk comedians.
Like a reader in our local paper wrote about Lorna Pardy and Co: “Don’t pitch if you can’t catch.”
I loathe real hate speech. I support our laws against it. But bullshit whiners like these chicks, who go fucking looking for a fight then cry foul because they’ve lost, deserve to fucking lose and lose big.
As a Canadian who usually proudly appreciates the distinctions in freedom to speak between my country and the United States, because we shut down hate speech, I think there’s a world of difference between someone like Earle and someone like Michael Richards, and *I* am offended he gets lumped in with a true hate-spewing fucker like Richards, because it lowers the standards for what we, as a society, really ought to be offended by.
I think there’s a sad irony a case like this is coming up the week that George Carlin dies. Sigh.
What do you guys think? Am I blowing smoke out my ass? Am I secretly a homophobic bitch and this exposes it all? Eh?
Links:
Here’s a great page on Georgia Straight’s blog where they’ve posted both the controversial Michael Richards anti-black rant along with Guy Earle talking to a Toronto talk show about the Necking Lesbian Controversy here in Vancouver. Here’s the New Rebublic tackling this story, and the National Post. Guy Earle’s Myspace page. No info yet on how to contribute to his legal fund, something I hope is forthcoming soon, as I’d like this fight to get the support it deserves.

On Oral, A Reader Asks: Can I Really Tease Her For More Than An Hour?

some days are clean slates, just waiting for some input, a spark, a suggestion. some days are lazy days of slack, and on such a day, it’s nice to receive a great email from a snazzy reader, especially when it’s something worth spending a little time writing on. if you have something you think i could shed some light on, you just wanna say hi, or you just wanna wind me up and watch me go, here’s where to send it: smuttysteff(at)gmail(dot)com.
just a reminder, though: this isn’t a gig that pays my rent, so real life often (and rudely) interferes, and if i forget to respond to you or I fail to post a response I say I’ll post, please, please, write me back and remind me — like this reader did! yay, reader!

__________________________

A young lesbian reader has written after reading my three-part (evidently not so) Man’s Guide to Cunnilingus (click here to read: part one, part two, part three). I may have to change the name of that. How hetero of me. Shame!
Awwright, let’s start off with the 18-year-old girl’s question:

In your cunnilingus post, pt.3, you exhort to torturously delay her cumming in order to give her one “mind-boggling” orgasm. That is exactly my question, how do you do it? Because, in order to do so, if I start varying the rhythm of my tongue or even stop for a moment to lick other spots I’m afraid her orgasm might vanish.
In your post “Giving Great Head” you say that your “record” for delivering oral on a guy was over an hour and that his reaction was mind-blowing. Is it possible to do the same to a chick?

-Eager Beaver

Excellent question!
Let’s all just take a deep breath for a second here and think on the basics that everyone needs to know about sex:

First, orgasms don’t just up and vanish into thin air. It’s not like a Hogwart’s class on spellcasting or something here. Don’t be so scared of failing to bring an orgasm that you don’t explore the realms of human enjoyment, all right? It’s not about achieving orgasm in 18.67 minutes. There’s no time-limit involved. Taking the slow scenic route may mean you need to build back up to a cadence that’ll yield an orgasm, but so what?
The fact is, one of the best things a woman can do to increase her orgasm potential for later in the evening is to masturbate to the brink of orgasm, then stop, denied, before showering and/or getting ready for her plans/date. If she knows she’s getting laid later, she’ll typically have a better, more fulfilling orgasm because of “masturbatus-interruptus“. Same thing as if you get interrupted during sex, can’t finish, and then finish later, it’s a much hotter orgasm, isn’t it?
So, if worse come to worse and the arousal should dampen, which it often can and will, just take charge and take her right back to where you want her. Who cares if it takes a while? What’s your rush?
Spending an hour on oral means semi-constantly making sure you’re somehow stimulating her vaginal areas, whether it’s tracing a finger over her and just lightly toying with her, or during a more overt clitoral rub to heighten things, or working her as part of your oral arts. Always be aware and be conscious of her vagina. You can detour away for a few seconds here or there, but make a grand return by kissing your way down her torso or introducing a sex toy into the equation.
There are no rules, get creative. Think “If I were a vagina, how would I like to be toyed with” and get creative about finding items you can tease her with over the course of an hour or two. Spend an afternoon sometime when you’re by yourself just going through your place and finding unusual items (that need to be clean) for teasing a body with. A feather, a powderpuff, a silk tassel, sex toys… use props, put the “play” back into playing with each other.
If you’re talking about stimulating your lover for an hour, two hours, or more, mostly via oral, you have to remember that you can absolutely pull back and just lightly toy with them, using a finger or a small prop, for a few minutes to take a break. God, even just hovering over her vagina (or over a man’s cock), an inch away, and breathing hot and hard against her vagina will be arousing, and you have to do nothing but breathe, so that’s a good “breather” to take as well. Just try to keep them in a light state of arousal throughout, and when you’re recharged a bit, go back to your pleasure-giving duties.
Understand, everybody, you are NOT going to kill orgasms! Not usually You are going to ENHANCE them. Yes. Yes, you are. That’s what it’s about. The longer someone is aroused and the longer that pleasure is denied, the greater the orgasm will be. Do we understand now? Making them wait is a good thing. It’s the difference between an “ohh…” orgasm and an “ohh!” orgasm, all right?
You’re not the first person to not realize this, Eager Beaver, and, god help me, you ain’t going to be the last. But overcome the fear of “losing the orgasm” and adopt the confidence of giving the orgasm on yer own damned timetable, all right?
Besides, again it’s all becoming about the orgasm, when it really isn’t about that. Sex, oral and otherwise, is about so much more than just blowing our loads.
It’s about showing your lover they’re worth you spending an hour or more of your time literally just making them feel great. It’s about enjoying the mingling of human saltiness and sweetness on your tongue and the millions of crazy nerves firing off inside yer lucky lover, beneath your touch, as they squirm and groan softly as you playfully dart here and there, licking and kissing and nibbling and sucking.
The orgasm is just the briefest of moments, and, in the end, it’s never really the orgasm we remember anyways, is it? It’s the delightful tortured waiting in which we think this fury of feeling we’ve got is going to explode from within us if we don’t get to orgasm soon, isn’t it? That feeling’s so fucking hot. THAT is the feeling you want to work to create. That place between heaven and hell that we could all spend an eternity in, provided we get release every now and again.
You won’t lose the orgasm.
You will, however, find a whole new definition to what it means to please your lover. Trust me.

Handjobs: Things You Need to Know, Part Two

I wrote a rambling introduction to the topic of Handjobs here, and part one of this instructional bit is here.
Pressure:
Ask him, for god’s sake! It’s his penis, he’ll know. This isn’t your ex-lover’s cock, or your high-school boyfriend’s cock, or your college fuck-buddy’s cock. This is his cock, and it feels differently about things than those other dicks did. If you ask, he will think you value making him feel good. It’s a smart way to go. Let him tell you. He’ll be glad you asked. Not all guys are comfortable telling you when it’s too hard, and some men will even endure pain to avoid offending you. Be a real woman, and ask.
Lube:
Covered this before. Most guys’ll say it needs it. If you want to avoid clean up and have better grip, you can put a condom on him. Start with oral and even end with oral, but it doesn’t need to be only one or the other. When it comes to using lube, start with only a little, and increase the quantity as needed. Too much will compromise your control.
Positioning:
It doesn’t “really” matter. He should be comfortable, and reclining or lying down is a good thing for him. I like to begin by lying down next to him, or snuggling up, whatever, and typically begin with oral if I’m in the mood (see below) and then will sit up by his waist when I’m making progress and getting serious about the work. This gives you use of both hands, and more flexible access to all his parts, but begins with greater intimacy.
The Moves:
First off, every single one of these moves changes according to pressure and speed. Doing it nice and gentle will give him one set of feelings, but picking up the pace and gently increasing pressure as you go will take him to a whole new galaxy of feelings. Speed up, slow down, speed up, slow down. When you’re wanting to finish him off, pick the move you’ve seen the best reaction to, and just go to town. Once he comes, he’s going to get super-sensitive super-fast, and when he says stop, STOP. If you like, after a couple minutes, when he’s resting, you can just rest a hand on his cock, as if to say it was good for you, too. Or you can go have the beer you’ve earned. Whatever. 😉
Starting out, just play with everything. Caress his balls, place your open, flat hand over the length of his member and begin doing gentle-pressure circles over the whole region. Play with the tip of his penis, whatever you like. Better yet, take his soft-ish cock into your mouth, or nibble it with your lips, or lick it with varying degrees of pressure.
Then, once it’s harder…
The Ring-a-Ding-Dink:
For this, you make a “ring” of your index finger and thumb, or use the middle finger if he’s got greater girth, and wrap it around the base of his penis. Start tugging up and down, with firm pressure, but slowly, just around the base. So, this move has about a 1” rise on it. You’re not ascending the whole shaft, just staying right there at the base of the penis. Do it with more pressure and faster, and you’ll see him responding. A lot of nerve endings are at the base of the cock, hence why guys love penetrating you deep and hard, so it fires up those basal nerves. This is a great one to use during oral, too, while you have your mouth on his shaft’s head, and toy with it using your tongue to flick and lick around the head.
The Piston:
Standard move, girlies. But not, and I repeat not, a go-to move, not in my book. It’s a transitional thing. If he wants a piston job, let him do it later, and you know he will. Do a little piston work here and there, particularly when you’re wanting to move towards taking him to orgasm, so you can indicate speed’s about to pick up. This move’s just basically you wrapping your hand around the shaft and going up and down, from the base to the tip. If you’re using proper lube or a condom, it’ll make it easier to do full moves that take your hand up, over the penis’ tip, aka the “glans” or head. The head region’s crazy sensitive, so doing the piston via ascending over the head will be pretty hot for your man.
The Tweaker:
With both your hands around his penis (like you have them wrapped around the top of your steering wheel; your thumbs will be next to each other), you want to rotate your hands in opposite directions. One’s rotating towards you, the other’s rotating away from you. This gives him a pretty wicked set of feelings, and this move’s got a lot you can do to vary it. Such as:

Stop rotating the hand by the shaft, instead, start pumping a bit, like you would with a stress ball, or if you were checking your blood pressure at the doctor’s, squeezing that rubber bulb. Now and then, just squeeze firmly. All the while, the hand wrapped around the top of the shaft continues what it’s doing.
Or… Continue rotating around the shaft area, but flip your head-hand around, so your palm’s facing you and your thumb’s up at the top of his penis. Now your thumb can play with the head. This hand now does a mini-piston, while you rub and tease his glans at the same time. (So you have both the rotating and piston action at the same time.)

Knob-Polisher:
This is a fun one to do, and needs either a well-lubed condom or lots of lube on your hands. One hand’s around the shaft, maybe doing a mini-piston, while your other hand is open, with the palm on top of the head of his penis. Press down and do circles. That’s it. It gives him a lot of stimulation through his head. Press firmly, too, and harder as you go faster. Some guys get desensitized a little too quickly at the head of the penis, so you need to be aware of what your man’s tendencies are that way. You can do circular movements or you can do rapid side-to-side movements, but either way, his glans is gonna be happy.
Collision Course:
This is a bit of a mind-fuck, and one he’s virtually guaranteed to love. With your hands again in the “steering wheel” position mentioned above, you’re doing “opposite” pistons. Meaning, you’re doing the piston move, but your hands will be colliding – one’s going up from the bottom of the shaft, and the other’s coming down from the head. This goes against what his penis has been conditioned to feeling, so it’s a pretty wild departure. You can reverse this, so your bottom hand is moving down to the bottom (and emphatically colliding into his public wall, putting lots of pressure against his basal nerves) and the top hand goes up over the head, which it gives a good squeeze to as it does, and then back down. You can also change hand positions a la the second variation of the “Tweaker” above, but still maintain the opposite movements.
The Garden Hose:
This one’s just a nice departure. It’s a softer move, but it should be done reasonably well-paced, and will give him sensation over his entire penis. In between some heavy action, or even starting out, just pretend you’re pulling out a length of garden hose… One hand goes gently up the shaft and off, followed immediately by the other, again and again and again, and as quickly as you can manage. Doesn’t work with a condom, but lube does the trick.
Diversions:
There are many ways to say to a penis, “I like you, you’re cute.” Tracing a finger up the shaft, either at the front or the back, can be fairly arousing. Playing gently with his balls can be lovely. Tickling his cock can be a pleasant shocker in the middle of a handjob, particularly if you have a feather nearby. Leaning down and breathing hotly on his moist cock can also be titillating sometimes.
I think those are all the “A” moves, and I’ll see if I can think of some more on the weekend. These are at least guaranteed to get you some results in the meantime. No promises about any more postings on this topic for now, though. But the point is, get creative. Bring in props, use your mouth, take moments here and there to nibble his thigh or tease his anus, if you’re wanting to prolong the experience. Don’t be afraid or awkward, and talk to him about what he’s liking. The more you see his enjoyment, and the more intense the orgasm you provide, the more you’re going to be enjoying this, too.

DISCLAIMER: I’ve had comments about uncircumcized guys v. circumcized, and the unaltered boys say they need little, if any, lube. Well, being your standard-edition Canadian girl, I’ve only ever met cut penises. They make lovely friends, but I’m sure I’d like there uncut companions, too. Unfortunately, I remain ignorant of more than just their company. So, their penis heads are apparently more sensitive, and lube is less of an issue. Duly noted.

Hand-Jobs: Things You Need To Know, Part One

Handjobs can be one of those awkward moments for women. It seems so… odd. How hard is too hard? How soft is too soft? Where’s the sweet spot? What in the hell should be done, just tugging, rubbing? What, what, what?
Every chick’s had a moment when they’ve caused a man to wince, or even cry out, from accidentally hurting his testicles or penis. We’ve all seen that terrible moment on the playground when some kid inevitably kicks another in the sack, only to see the victim crumple to the ground and begin crying like a girl.
I’ve only ever been violent once, and it was in a 7-Eleven, when a boy started clawing at me and trying to grab my then-growing boobs. I told him to stop, he didn’t, and I kicked him in the nuts, which surely looked different with me in my Catholic school kilt and dress shoes (poor fucker). I was 12, then, and didn’t really mean to kick as hard as it looked like I did, but boy, oh, boy, did I feel badly when I saw him balled up into a fetal position on the floor, whimpering like a kid whose dog just got mowed down by an 18-wheeler in front of his eyes.
Even as little girls, we learn that the cock is oh, so very sensitive, and yet, there guys are, tugging viciously on their members, it looks like, and so we think, “Well, that’s how to do it, then.”
Naturally, we reach out, manhandle that cock (or we do the opposite), and invariably hear, “Not so hard! Gently!” (Or “Harder, more like this.”) Our synapses start firing. “What the fuck? Look at YOUR technique, buddy! What’s wrong with mine?”
Let’s see if we can clear some of that up right now. Oh, I should mention, specific moves come next time. This topic deserves some depth.
First off, guys need to be lubed up. Hand cream, baby oil, Aquaglide, whatever, but lube up. Chicks might sometimes use spit, but it dries quickly. Try tugging your finger, repeatedly, the way you would normally tug a cock. If you just rub up and down with no lube, two things happen: one, it burns, and two, it becomes raw. Not exactly the sensation you’re going for. And don’t forget, when it comes to sensitivity, there’s a world of difference between your digit and his.
Lube’s a great way to go, since you get the glide-effect going on. Personally, I find too much lube makes it hard to keep a little control over my hands. I mean, I’ve made good friends with my friendly neighbourhood penis, but really, I’m not sure I quite have the key to his house yet, if you know what I mean. Too much lube loses that little bit of control, and I’m more liable to overshoot my mark and have my hand keep slipping off his cock. Moderation.
Another great option that more chicks need to explore is that of using a condom for handjobs. If you’re wearing rings and forget to take them off, it’ll protect his crown jewels. If you have dry hands, it won’t be an issue. First off, the condom’s lubricated anyhow, but then there’s the pre-cum that also adds to his lubrication. (You can even use studded or ribbed condoms to heighten the experience further.)
The bonus, though? No need to worry about sperm shooting half-way across the room, or landing on you, or sullying the sheets, sofa, rug, or whatever. It’s tidy, it’s easy, and it takes the awkwardness out of the experience. Personally, it’s my favourite way to give a handjob. Starting to use condoms transformed how I felt about the experience (and made me realize how anal I am about having sperm shooting randomly across the room or wherever it’ll land, given my snazzy digs). Now I love giving a handjob and try to prolong his pleasure as long as I possibly can, since I know I can give a really, really intense orgasm, yet don’t have to exert myself too much, which means I can give him a handjob no matter how tired or not in the mood I may be. And, really, seeing the end result and knowing how satisfied I can make him, that’s a reward in itself, no matter what my mood was previously.
Handjobs, and some may not like the word since it seems so perfunctory, can truly be a beautiful, intimate moment between you and your guy. You’re able to keep eye contact, yet smother his body with kisses in between, as you stroke him towards nirvana. One reader even states he gets a much more powerful orgasm from a handjob than a blowjob, and perhaps it’s because more control can be had over what’s done and where, plus, you’re better able to see the reaction to all you do and gauge your actions as a result.
I wish I could have a penis, just for a day, so I could learn how everything feels. When I see what touching different parts of the penis can do to a man, it makes me curiouser and curiouser. Every time I give a handjob, it seems I learn something new about his penis. If, just as an example, I rub the base of it between my thumb and forefinger (always the flat part of your fingers, never the tip), just as if I were playing with a stone or something, rolling it back and forth, the reaction is pretty amazing… far more than I’d have expected, just seeing the standard rub-and-tug guys seem to get engaged in.
And that’s the thing women need to realize works to their advantage. Guys typically have a favourite method of masturbating, and they seldom vary it. Because of the angles we can have over them when it comes to doing the job on their behalf, we’ve got so many more approaches we can take. Because it’s foreign to us, even exploring new moves and ways of handling it will surprise and shock him, usually in positive ways — if you’re watching the pressure you’re applying. It’s in the way we vary and switch things up that we’re able to bring that pleasure to a new plateau for them. It’s a new peak, a new high, and it’s never, ever what they would do for themselves.
Next time, I’ll be writing about specific moves. What you need to know now, though, is this: Every single part of the penis and the balls are sensitive to touch, even the inner thighs, and none of them should be neglected during a handjob. It’s not about “tugging one out,” it’s about variation, changes in speed, changes in technique, watching his reaction, knowing when to pull back, when to speed up, when to move your hand down to massage his balls or trace a finger up his thigh, and no guide book or scribe will ever be able to explain that. Every time you deliver a handjob, it should (and likely will) get better and better and better, because your knowledge of your lover is escalating… if you’re paying attention to him, that is.
Handjobs shouldn’t be awkward or strange. They should be something you can do for your man when he’s had a bad day or is feeling a little out of sorts, or when he’s hot and bothered but you’re tired and have a headache. It’s five, ten, fifteen minutes of your life, and hardly difficult to do, but immeasurably rewarding to him, and a terrific tool to use in keeping your relationship healthy and happy. If it’s clean-up and lube and grip that trouble you, keeping a pack of condoms around just for handjobs makes giving them far less of a chore, and really transforms them into the go-to move for keeping your lover happy. And becoming a master? Well, he’ll probably never be sorry you’ve compromised to give him manual stimulation, and in fact may come to look forwards to it. And hey, a surprise handjob during his favourite show or when he’s just lying on the couch might be a great way to shift gears for the evening.
You can do it, grasshopper, and next time, I’ll tell you how.
[Part Two is finished, with select moves and tips. You can read it here.]

Handjobs for everybody!

The handjob is one of those topics I’ve been putting off.
I’m about to confess something that no self-professed sex writer should ever confess. Giving a handjob feels really fucking weird sometimes. There, I said it. Yep. It’s how I feel, people. Deal with it.
Wanna know something? I’m not alone. I’ve chatted with more than a few chicks “in real life” who’ve expressed the same sentiment.
I’ve been trying to figure out what’s so “weird” about it, too. Let’s face it, aspects of feminine masturbation are really quite delicate. Into clit orgasms? (Me! Me!) All a gal needs to do is lie there and do some 1-2” finger rotations, and whomp, there it is. Hell, I’ve masturbated in public places and never got noticed. (But let’s not talk about that.) It’s just that simple as a chick. Whatever we do, it tends to look pretty sophisticated and subtle, and it gets us off.
When a girlie needs to stroke a boy, though, it’s so utterly foreign to us. Worse yet, it’s so obvious and so clumsy. Most of the time, it can leave us feeling useless. Up and down, up and down – oops! I did it again! I just slipped my hand right off your cock again! Oh, MY.
It takes a while to get used to giving handjobs, for sure. If you’re gonna tug one out, it’s best to have a user’s guide, first.
I’ve been working on technique – enough said, thank you very kindly – and believe I have a couple suggestions for things to be done a little differently.
First, though, let’s address the girls’ concerns. “Why bother masturbating him when he’s so much better at it?” Well, because he knows what to expect if he’s gonna get himself off. He knows when he’ll change paces, he knows what the next move is, and he even knows the exact point he’ll stop. You, though, girlie-girl, you’re the mystery factor. You doing it is like he’s being taken for a drive blindfolded. He knows he’ll get there, but the route’s gonna be one hell of a different experience without a direction to be aware of.
Guys go through their teen years praying they’ll get a handjob at the end of the night. And while, as a grown-up, the money-shot’s really in a good blowjob, going for manual stimulation’s never too much of a disappointment. Except when her awkwardness and insecurities are too obvious, that is.
Have a chat with your guy, let him know you’re a little awkward driving stick. Tell him to let you know if you’re grinding the gears or shifting in all the right ways. Ask him to tell you when he’s enjoying a specific technique, or if he can’t speak at the time and it’s real, real good, to bite his lower lips and close his eyes.
Watch his face. Study him. Learn what he’s loving. This, unlike giving head, is basically a two-way experience, because you can soak up so much useful information as to what gets your man off. Is it the nib under the tip? Ringing the base? Stroking gently with just a finger up the top of his shaft? Maybe it’s the old knob-polishing routine that’s too under-used? Giving head, you can’t really follow his reactions as much, so use this for what it is, a learning experience, and an opportunity to give him a nice orgasm.
Always, always, always make mental notes about what your lover enjoys, I don’t care who you are or what you think you know. Bodies aren’t one-size fits all, and not every trick works on every dick. You’re on your own, mostly, sister. I’m only trying to make it a little less daunting, is all.
But right now, coffee beckons, plus a few other things. I’ll write more on hand-jobs in the coming days/week, since it’s not done yet (eeps) but I’m curious if there’s other women out there who can share their feelings about giving a handjob, whether they too have felt odd performing them previously, or if guys want to volunteer things they’ve enjoyed having done to them in the past.

*Honestly, I mean, giving head’s great, but if you’re like me and you’ve been in a half-dozen vehicle accidents or so, the neck strain can be a killer sometimes, despite my fondness for impromptu oral. Something like a handjob is a great way to do something really nice for your guy with a minimum of exertion, comparatively. So, yes, there are very good reasons to give handjobs, and more on that very soon. This photo’s from Pornoperv.com. Doesn’t look like that inspired of a handjob on either side, though, does it? Hmm.

Q&A: Seducing A Straight Same-Sex Friend

An American broad abroad in Germany who calls herself a devoted reader wants to know:

How do I seduce my straight female friend? Or consequently, how do I deal with falling for someone not available?

When I wrote her back, I said rather bluntly, “What part of straight is so hard to understand?”
We all fall for someone we can never have. In fact, I’m about to listen to “Something I Can Never Have” by NIN. I’ve done it, and I’ve lived with the reality check I’ve had to cash. That’s just life. Most of the time, I think we fall for the unattainable because, on some level, we’re not consciously aware of the fact that we’re not ready to emotionally commit to anyone. We’d rather be lonely than really take the chance of being vulnerable, because being vulnerable means admitting your weaknesses to yourself and to another. It means taking a risk.
So, we cop out and we put our desire to be loved onto someone who we know will never respond to it — it’s kind of like never really trying to obtain your goals and dreams, but still being able to say, “Well, I never really tried, so I’ve never really failed.”
No, but you just haven’t played the game at all, have you?
We’ve all done this, and anyone who says they haven’t is just kidding themselves. It’s human nature to play it safe some of the time, particularly when we’ve been through emotional trauma, and you, dear reader, have been through exactly that, and you & I know it.
So, with shrink-mode off, let’s get back to the initial question. How do you seduce your female friend when she’s straight? I think it’s safe to say that the odds of a gay chick seducing her straight female friend are much higher than if the respective players were males. For chicks, there’s nothing threatening about being in the lovin’ arms of another woman. We don’t have to go through as much psychoanalysis to get past the experience as a guy who (feels he) needs to then examine whether he’s a “real man” or not.
Society, too, is more forgiving of lesbian encounters anyhow, since we all know most guys would throw down a sizeable wad of cash if they got to be the fly on the wall of a couple hot chicks exploring the lesbian side of things. In fact, it’s probably safe to say that most people just don’t take lesbians that seriously, considering they’re using strap-on dildos and all.
Let’s take me, for example. I’m out-and-out as straight as they get. I love all the aspects of being with a man, and can’t imagine myself ever being a lesbian for the longterm. But I very well might get playful with a girl… if all the pieces fell into place. What pieces, you ask? (But if you want some perspective on my little lesbian fantasies, read this and this.)
Back to the “pieces.” You’d have to get me good and drunk, for starters. Not because I wouldn’t know what I was doing, because I always have some self-control, but because I would want to have a really good excuse when I woke up the next morning. “Pfft, I was drunk, it’s all good… It was fun. I’ll never, ever drink again…” Heh. That said, there’s a part of me that wants to have the experience. I secretly want to have a woman come onto me, and the more I hear from chicks, the more I realize that this is a pretty common feeling. It’s something we won’t go out looking for, but if it should happen… We might just give in.
That said, let’s say you have that experience. Let’s say you pop a cork on a great bottle of wine, have a great “girl’s night” in, and you accidentally surf the channels and land on that great lesbian love-fest, The L-Word, and you somehow start sitting a little closer on the couch, et cetera…
We interrupt this broadcast to state that seduction’s seduction, whether it’s man-woman/woman-man/man-man/woman-woman. It’s all the same. You just need to get a little closer and see what happens, that’s all. Test the waters. How would you seduce anyone? Same difference here. It’s just a taboo, that’s all. We now resume the topic…
So, you kiss. If it doesn’t work, you get embarrassed, blame it on the wine, say you’ve just been a little lonely lately and you’re being dumb, and apologize. If it does work, then you make a move to the classic caress, and maybe it escalates.
I’ll say one thing, though — I think if you’re talking about crossing the lines of sexuality with someone who’s not a player in that game normally, it’s an all-or-nothing shot. Meaning, you get ‘em into a kiss and they’re responding, then THAT is the night you take it all the way. You will more than likely not get a second shot at it, so seize the opportunity while you can.
So, the not-getting-a-second-shot thing takes us to the next topic: Love’em and leave’em, except you’re the one who’s gonna get left. More often than not, they will take you up on the experience, but they will not let it develop into anything more. You run the risk of having a really incredible night where you get to passionately introduce them to same-sex love, and because the experience of teaching someone about sex is such an incredibly large turn-on, and a psychological mind-fuck in some cases, you also run the risk of having your heart absolutely shattered when it turns out that, for them, it was nothing more than trying something new at the buffet of love. For you, it will always mean more. If you’re able to accept that it will end in something that you’ll never have — and worse yet, you intimately know now exactly what you’ve lost — then I say go full-bore ahead and take that chance.
OKAY, let’s have a discussion, shall we? What would it take, if you’re straight, for someone of the same sex to seduce you? Have you thought about it? Do you secretly wish someone would make a pass at you? Have you ever tried to drop hints? How far would you be willing to go? Would it become a skeleton in your closet? Why, or why not? Speak to me, oh, hordes of lurky people. Enquiring Steffs want to know.

wishing otherwise

wistful jazz wails in the background. the drive bustles with beatniks and bohemians, baddies and babes. stale cigarette smoke wafts towards me. i see the source. you.
i only glance at you for the briefest second, but you catch my eye. that smoldering look you got’s really something else, i think, returning to my book. while i reread the same passage, i sense you watching me. this time, looking up, i slowly take you in.
you’ve got crumpled olive green cargo pants on, but they’re just tight enough around your round bubble ass. you’re wearing two tanktops, layered, one white and one black, and a leather jacket’s slung over your forearm, obscuring some of your tattoos. surprised at myself, i openly admire your breasts as i continue up you and meet your glance.
“glance” is too light a word for that look of yours. your eyes are locked on me like a fighter plane acquiring a target. so brazen, so bold. so intimidating.
i find myself wishing i had that in me, but today i don’t. i smile weakly, then break the gaze, dropping down to my book, back to my safety zone.
out of the corner of my eye, i see you shoot me a final glance as you join up with your approaching friend. sad to see you leave, i at least watch you go.
now, days later, i revel in my regret for the courage that came too late, and for the chance squandered so quickly.

on girl love

the more i write this blog, the more i think of girl love.
it’s not that i’m attracted to women, because on the larger scale, i’m not. but there are those few people who transcend gender and sexuality. those people with such effusive senses of self that it’s nigh impossible to not get turned on watching them.
every now and then, there’s a chick with the right hair, the right clothes, the right demeanour, and some kinda sexy goin’ on, all combined to a T.
my god, my interest flares. it’s kind of like the perfect alignment of the sexual cosmos. but it would take a lotta woman to get my lovin’.
that said, if i were lured to the pussy side, it’d have to be because of the softness and the contours of a woman’s body. i wouldn’t go for skinny chicks, i don’t think. a little curve would be necessary, but how much curve wouldn’t really matter. anything but the grand flats, if you know what i’m saying.
as a photographer, i know i would be aroused by having a really hot chick naked on my bed. i can’t help it. physicality in front of me just gets me riled. i’d have to seize the opportunity to shoot her, and in so doing, my intrigue would escalate. i’d need to touch, to explore.
i mean, having her just lie there, naked, natural, and at my beck and call? my god. i’m not strong enough to resist that.
__________
the closest i’ve probably ever come to taking a chick up on the offer was back in the day when i had long hair, up in the yukon.
now, you need to know that my hair is probably among the thickest i’ve ever seen. even thinned out, it tends to be 3-4″ thick when long.
these days, riding a bike and needing to wear a nasty motorcycle helmet daily, i keep it extremely short and punky.
but back then, my hair would get me the most amazing reactions from total strangers. the nicest compliment i’ve ever received, to this day, came from a passer-by on the street.
that day, a man was about 30 or so feet away, walking past to a store, when he caught my eye on a sidewalk cafe, double-took, and crossed over to me.
“excuse me. look, i’m not coming on to you. i’m married, but i just needed to tell you that you have the most beautiful hair i’ve ever seen, and i hope you never cut it. that’s all i wanted to say.” he smiled. “have a great day.”
and he spun around, just like that. never saw him again.
the next most memorable “hair moment,” for me, was in the yukon, in legendary dawson city, when i encountered yukon girl.
i was camping with some friends for a couple nights at a site with no facilities, so i was just cleaning up in a public washroom up there when this chick comes out of a stall. i was smoothing some product in my hair and she saw my face in the mirror. she stepped into my reflection, and said to me, “are you a leo?”
and i laughed, “no.”
so she said, “with that lion’s mane of hair, honey, you oughtta be.”
she growled playfully, and i couldn’t help but grin. i turned to face her. she then proceeded to tell me her campsite number and that she was probably staying behind in her tent that night as her friends were going to the music fest.
she stepped closer, her tits nearly touching mine. “maybe you want to come play.”
i was younger and a little shocked. i’d had chicks come onto me occasionally, but never this brazenly, and never this hot.
today, i’d have gone and played.

she was my height, about 5’7, and hot long auburn dreadlocks, but the really nice kind. basically, she was a hot, hot hippy chick.
now, i don’t usually dig hippies ‘cos hygeine’s so big for me, and some of them just take it too fucking far. she, however, had taken it nowhere near far. in fact she never left “fine.”
i was very hot for her, to tell the truth. i was just scared — scared of the experience, scared of my sexuality, scared of what it might mean.
but not anymore. i’ve had few regrets in my life, but passing on that opportunity would be one. i can’t help but imagine sinking my teeth into a piece of that.
are you out there, yukon girl? honey, if opportunity’s knocking, i’m answering.