Hooker shoes!

Hooker shoes. Ah, we all love them, don’t we? Well, some don’t. I do. Sort of. But they’re a staple in the kink community, and in our sex-addicted society as well. (Don’t think I’m bashing sex addicts – I’m sure they make up a percentage of my readership.)

I’ve often wondered what it is about them, and I’ve given that some thought. When you write erotica and erotic romance, yeah, you think about those things. Not always productive, but you still think about them. Here are some of the answers I’ve come up with based on what I’ve read and what I’ve seen, not to mention my own hooker shoes, of which there are many.

They’re pretty: Well, they are. Very pretty. They come in all kinds of sparkly configurations, and some are lit up from the bottom. Some are clear acrylic so any lights on a dance floor shine up through them. I have a pair covered in rainbow sequins – VERY pretty. A good number of them have sequins and beads and jewels on them, and everyone loves those.

They can be very artistic: I’ve seen some that were beyond belief. I don’t know who came up with the ideas, but they’re pretty cool, albeit in a warped, nonsensical way. But I love that people have gone to such great lengths to take the lowly shoe and turn it into a piece of art. Well, maybe not lowly. If it’s a platform or stiletto, it’s pretty lofty.

They make us look taller and make our legs look longer: I’m 5’3”, but with a good pair of platforms, I’m 5’6”. That makes me pretty happy. Plus I already have long legs for my height, and they just make my legs look longer still. I like that. Most women do. Guys really dig it. It’s a beautiful thing.

They make us feel pretty: Who wouldn’t feel pretty in something that, quite frankly, looks like a princess shoe? Remember those silly plastic high heels in the toy department, the ones with the elastic straps? And how we loved wearing those things? We liked them because they made us feel like princesses. And now, as a grownup, we can feel that way again in some sparkly, high heeled wonders. Of course we like that! Matter of fact, the caption under these babies was, “If a hooker went to the prom, this is what her shoes would look like.” BOOM! They’re on the “gotta-have” list.

They’re sexy, sexy, sexy: I remember Sir asking me, “Can you actually walk in these things?” My reply?

“I only have to make it from the bathroom to the bed.”

Well, it was true. I put them and some frillies on, then march out and let nature take its course. And it does – in gangbusters. Oh. Probably not the best word. But you know what I mean. I don’t think there’s a guy alive who wouldn’t like to see his baby walk into their boudoir in a pair of these babies. I hear the feel of the heel digging into your back is very erotic, although I wouldn’t know that for a fact. It’s just hearsay but, based on the response I got, I’d say it’s probably very accurate hearsay.

Doesn’t matter if you can’t hold a rhythm, you dance in them and you look like a pole dancer: It’s true. Just get out on the dance floor in them and start moving around. It doesn’t matter if you look like PeeWee Herman – people will notice, and usually in a good way. Now, if you’re all spastic, maybe not, but usually just a gentle sway of the hips and swing of the arms and, in platforms or stilettos, you’re all set. Seriously. Try it. You’ll be amazed at what a good “dancer” you suddenly become.

Okay - I really don't know what to think about these.
I just had to throw them in.
It kinda looks like Carmen Miranda
got lost in DSW.

There is always the chance that someone will hand you money: Wear a pair of stilettos or platforms in the right places and expect fives and tens to come your way. Just say something like, “Sure! Hand me your camera and I’ll take your picture!” or, “How did you know I needed (place monetary denomination here)?” They’ll be embarrassed that they mistook you for a hooker – well, most of them will – and you’ll be a little richer. If that happens enough, BAM – they’ve paid for themselves.

I’ll tell you a little secret: If you want to try some of these out but you don’t want to pay a fortune for them, go to your local Goodwill or consignment shops. They get them in the box loads. Why? Women buy them and then don’t want to even try them. But I say, hell yeah – if you’re steady enough on your feet that you won’t fall over just standing still, get a pair and wear them. And if you are unsteady, don’t worry. Just announce that you’re going to wear them and you’ll be amazed at the number of offers you have to help hold you up as you go. It’ll happen. Just don’t buy shoes with asses on them. You want them looking at your ass, not the ones on your shoes.

Finding Your Dominant, Part Three

You’ve been waiting, so let’s get down to the meat and bones of it, shall we?

It can be hard to find a play partner, Dominant, top, Master, submissive, bottom, whomever you’re looking for, in some areas. It’s hard enough as it is without the area you live in factored in. Even if you live in a very large, open community, it’s still hard to connect. So let’s go over a few ways you can do that. Some of these you’ve probably come up with on your own, but maybe I’ve got a few here that will help.

One place you can do that is Craigslist.

But please don’t.

So let’s see if we can find you some places to look that will be a little better than that. And if not, well, here we go.

As the realtors all say . . .

LOCATION, LOCATION, LOCATION

Craigslist and other local personal ads and boards

As I said before, please, just don’t. But if you just have to, you should follow some basic guidelines.

If you have a local paper, you might want to check their personal ads. There is the remotest possibility that you might actually find someone that way. Very remote. But give it a go. You’d be surprised at who you might find there. Of course, there is the always-difficult task of bringing up the subject, and regardless that they’re right near you, you’ll still need to follow the same safety procedures. As for introducing the idea of kink? We’ll get to that later.

Look for ads that mention wanting someone strong, intelligent and decisive. Fun and playful are good descriptions too, but they can carry meanings you don’t want. When you contact this person, do not come right out and ask if they would want a relationship that includes D/s, M/s, TPE, or any other kind of kink or play. Lots of guys would jump on that even if they didn’t really know what it meant. Be cautious. Then follow all of the safety guidelines already laid out, and more if you know of some that would help.

You might even think about putting out your own personal ad. Open an email account with an online provider specifically for this purpose. Then interact with anyone who contacts you and see what you think.

Once you’ve had a chance to get to know this person a little, ask if they’re into any particular lifestyles that you might be interested in. If they’re kinky, they’ll know what you’re talking about. If not, they may say boating, or softball, or NASCAR. That means they don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. You can broach the subject, but be very careful, as I stated before. You want them to throw the idea out to you, not give them ideas that they possibly didn’t have before. You’re not in a position to train a Dominant. That’s not what you need. So move on.

Fetlife

Fetlife is one of your better alternatives. If all you’re really looking for is an LDR, Fetlife is the place. You’ll be able to find someone there and, if they don’t work out, you can just look for another. Yeah, I don’t put a lot of stock in LDRs, but it is what it is, although it’s a great way to get your feet wet and get some experience before you launch into a real-life relationship.

But remember: There are creeps on Fetlife too, lots of them. I had a run-in with one last weekend. You might get lucky the first time, who knows? Again, if you get a chance to meet this person in the flesh, follow the safety rules. But there’s a much, much better way to meet someone on Fetlife. Hint: If his profile pic is his penis? Nah. Keep scrolling.

Look for a local munch. They have boards on Fetlife where local gatherings are listed. If you don’t know what a munch is, here’s a crash course. I won’t give you the history; just know that it’s a getting-to-know-each-other get-together within the kink community. Munches are usually held at restaurants. Fetwear is discouraged, since it’s a public gathering and maintaining the confidentiality of the other members is important. This is the best possible place to meet someone within the kink community. While it’s true that many areas, especially smaller or bible-belt areas, don’t have a community that has those kinds of gatherings, you can usually find one a few miles away. Traveling a few hours might even be a good idea; close enough to get to know them, far enough away to retreat if you sense anything hinky going down.

So go to the munch. If asked, make it crystal clear what you’re looking for. These are the people you should be able to do that with. Don’t be overbearing, but do be outgoing if you can manage it through your nervousness. You’ll pick up on the dynamic pretty quickly. If there seems to be a person who’s the group “leader,” you might even ask that person if you could talk with them privately sometime to let them know what you’re about and ask if there’s anyone in the group who might meet that criteria and might also be interested. They can be great guides.

Mutual friends

This is the absolute best way to find someone who can meet your needs. Just like with any other relationship, meeting someone through friends is safer and you stand a better chance of finding the right person (not to mention the safety factor). If you’re really close friends, you might want to confide in them regarding your actual wishes. If you live in an area like mine, however, you won’t want to say a damn thing. In that instance, you’ll want to find a way to talk about your desires. As I said before, we’ll get to that later.

Do know, however, that if you try to get in a hurry and introduce the idea to a friend-matched date too soon, you run the risk of everyone in your social circle finding out that you asked for kink. And while that sounds like a bad thing, it could just work to your advantage!

Regular dates with suggestions

You can always just go through the regular “dating” channels. It is true, however, that finding someone on an internet dating site might be far easier. In the relative comfort of anonymity, one can ask things of another that they might not be able to ask in person, so give that some thought. The wise thing to do might be to create a dating profile with a fictitious name and use that until you find someone who seems compatible and comfortably kinky. Then come clean: Tell them that you were using a name other than your own for safety purposes. Anyone who couldn’t understand that is an idiot and not worth your time. If the individual is a true Dominant, they’ll more than understand; they’ll be glad you were being cautious until you could trust them. Your safety and health will be their top concern. But be careful about the "suggestions." More about that in a few.

Events

If you live in an area where there are lifestyle events, those could be a good place to look, although the possibility of finding someone there is remote. If you can get yourself invited to a play party through a munch, then go. And if you run into a good possibility for a play partner there, pursue it – if that’s what you’re looking for. Even if the event is something that's put together for a purpose other than yours - say it's a gay pride event - it still has the potential to draw out people who are more open-minded when it comes to sex. And that can be a plus for you.

The hard part

Yes, there is a hard part. There's always a hard part. So let’s talk about that.

If you’ve determined what you want, that might make it a little easier. If you’ve decided that all you want is a play partner (or string of play partners), that is the easiest possible role to fill. Since you’re not looking for an emotional attachment to this person, or if so, just a friendship kind of connection, it will be simple to just lay it all out there. Saying something like, “You need to know up front that I have unusual needs and you may or may not be willing to meet them,” or, “I tend to lean to the kinky side,” may be the best way to approach it. They’ll expect that if you meet them within the community; if not, be clear that all you’re looking for is the physical aspect of a relationship. If they’re actually looking for a long-term partner, they’ll either go into it knowing that you’re not, or they’ll pass altogether. In that instance, keep looking. And if you’re looking for nothing but non-emotionally-attached play partners, you’ll be looking for more than one anyway, am I right?

Also, being crystal clear about what you’re looking for is crucial. If you’re not looking for sex but rather discipline or punishment, any potential play partner needs to know that up front. And no, it’s not always about sex. An experienced kinkster already knows that, though.

If, however, you’re looking for a long-term relationship complete with emotional connection and true partnership, it becomes a little trickier. Things become difficult when you’re trying to forge a relationship with someone whose kinky proclivities are in question. But you have a powerful tool in your arsenal. Any idea what that might be?

Humor. It’s time to pull out some old, stale jokes and try them out. You’d be surprised what that can accomplish. A comment like, “I’m sorry it took so long for me to get here, but I got tied up. Not literally, though. I save that for bedtime,” can be an icebreaker. Insert the appropriate snicker, and see what kind of response you get. If they stare at you like a deer in headlights, that’s probably a bad sign. If, however, they respond with a joke of their own, you may be onto something.

Working good, seemingly-benign questions into a conversation helps too. Perhaps you can get them to start to talk about music, movies, and books, and then ask, “So what kind of books do you like?” When they ask you about your taste in books in return (and if they don’t, they’re a self-absorbed bastard who doesn’t deserve someone as nice as you), tell them that you read a lot of erotica or erotic romance, or perhaps say, “The last thing I read? Um, I think it was Fifty Shades of Grey and I really, really liked it.” That’s enough to give them the hint. If they’re appalled, you’re not on the right track. If they say something like, “That’s cool,” then you can always counter with, “Have you ever read anything like that?” and see what they say. If, however, they say, “That was a pitiful example of the BDSM lifestyle,” then BINGO! You’ve hit the jackpot. Pursue, pursue, pursue. You might not get another chance that clear-cut and easy.

If you say, “Which adult store here is the best?” and you get, “I don’t know. Want to go check them out?” you might have something you can work with. If he can answer the original question in three seconds, there’s an even better possibility. If, however, he wrinkles his nose and says, “I’d never go into a place like that,” just try to have a nice time for the rest of the evening and then don’t make another date. Unless, of course, he says, “I’d never go into a place like that. I have a great online supplier of all things kinky.” And then, my friend, you’re ready to rock.

But I will warn you: If you’re a Domme looking for someone to top, your job is going to be twice as difficult. Unless they’ve already got that desire, you’ll have trouble getting a guy to let you top him. Why? Because vanilla guys think that’s a sign of weakness, and they’re never going to let you experiment with that. End of story. It takes a guy who’s very, very secure in his masculinity to admit to those desires. If you find one, you’d better hang onto him.

The Guy in Your Bed

If you’re interested in the lifestyle but you’re already attached and he’s hopelessly vanilla, you’ve got a decision to make. Is this important enough to you to cut him loose and look elsewhere? Or do you love him enough to just go on your vanilla way? If you try to pursue kink on the sly and you get caught (and you WILL get caught), you may wind up cut loose even if that’s not what you want, so know that when you go out looking for someone to help you get your groove on, fetish lifestyle-speaking.

If he seems interested, however, a word of caution: Do NOT buy bondage porn to show to him. Bondage porn tends to be the extreme end of bondage and it will NOT help your case. At all. Period. It will scare the shit out of him and he’ll run for the hills. Instead, accompany him to the local adult store and explore the toys, tools, and implements available there. Let him pick out something he thinks he could use in play. Don’t be heavy-handed; it’s his time for exploration, and you can help to guide, but don’t be bossy. If you’re the Domme in the relationship, showing him the various implements and helping him to understand that he’ll always have a safe out if it’s too intense can help him give you input as to what he’s willing to try.

A word of caution

I hinted at this earlier, and now I have to say it straight out: Be careful. How you ask about their sexual preferences is very, very tricky. You can find a Dom in about ten minutes if you say, “I love to be tied up and spanked.” Most guys will jump on that bandwagon. It sounds sexy and fun, and they may not have ever been with a woman who would let them even try something like that.

That does not make them a Dominant.

So if you give them that “suggestion,” you may very well wind up with someone right away who won’t be able to meet your needs in the long run because he was never really a Dom. Oh, yeah, he may be able to keep it up for awhile, but the first time he says, “Oh, no, I don’t feel like doing that shit tonight,” well, you’ve just hit the wall. Don’t put ideas in some guy’s head if he doesn’t already have them. That’s just asking for trouble or, at the very least, disappointment. And better to be disappointed fifteen minutes into the first date than six months into a relationship where you’ve got an emotional investment, not to mention the time you’ve put in.

Worse yet, they could have an abusive side that you haven’t picked up on. And, trust me, bound by the wrists and ankles and being torn up by someone who will insist you “asked for it” in a court of law is the wrong time to find that out.

In other words, play your cards tight to the vest. Know a little bit about them before you play that hand. Tipping the cards could pay off, or it could be a huge mistake.

----------------------------------------------

I hope I’ve given you some ideas and some places to start looking. This is not an overnight process; the chances of you finding a top or bottom in the next two weeks is slim. But if you don’t start now, it’ll be even longer. So begin today. Take some time to sit down and try to map out a strategy. And keep me up to date on your progress. I’d love to know what you find.

Hugs,

Deanndra

KINDLE GIVEAWAY - AND MY BOOKS WILL BE ON IT!!!

Tomorrow . . . still looking for that Dom? Well, there'll be ideas here tomorrow for how you might be able to find him (or her, if that's your thing). But now: Ever wanted a chance to win a Kindle? We're giving away THREE! Go in and enter. Not only will the Kindles be given away, but they'll have four of my books loaded on them. It's your chance to win a nice prize AND to get started in three of my series. And while you're here, sign up for my newsletter, wouldja? Thanks!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Finding Your Dominant, Part Two

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Finding Your Dominant, Part One

I wish I had a nickel for every time I’m asked, “How do I find a Dominant?” or, “How do I tell my guy what I want?” I could easily buy that new Mustang I’ve been eyeing. Red, of course. This will be a multi-post because, quite frankly, I’m smart enough to know you wouldn’t sit and read everything that needs to be said in one sitting. That leads me to answer another question. “Isn’t there an easy, quick way to do this?” And the answer?

No.

And I’m not even going to elaborate on this, because there isn’t. Just like with most things, this isn’t an event – it’s a process, and it takes time and care. So let’s just jump in there, shall we?

No. I can tell you right now - you're probably not going to look this sexy.
Sorry. You won't have a photographer to set up the shot or a makeup artist to work with you.
Unless you're really, really into this. Then hire them all.

But beware: I’m going to stop you right here and say this clearly. If you’re married or in a committed relationship, your partner isn’t interested in your kink (and, yes, that’s what it is), and you think you’ll just find a Dominant to “meet your needs,” clear this with your partner, make sure the Dominant knows you’re married, and make sure that EVERYONE is cool with this. If not, shut this blog post down and don’t go any farther. You will wind up divorced and/or alone, or with a reputation that would keep any self-respecting Dominant from working with you. Is that what you really want?

First and foremost, you need to ask yourself some questions before you go looking for a Dominant. The biggest question is, why do you want a Dominant? Let me rephrase that: Why do you think you want a Dominant? Did you read “that popular trilogy written by a British author” and decide that’s what you want? Have you known for years that you want or even need this kind of stimulation or interaction? Do the tools and toys look like fun? Is this something that you crave? Are you just bored with the guy you’re with and your current relationship?

Second, you need to decide just what kind of relationship you want to have. Do you want a full-time Dominant/submissive relationship? A lot of people think they do, only to find that it’s next to impossible, and both parties have to be fully committed to it if so. Do you just want to dress up and play? If so, every time you have sex, or just occasionally? So are you looking for an actual Dominant, a play partner, or a love interest who will fall into this easily? (And yes, there is the possibility that you’ll find a Dominant and the two of you will fall in love. A possibility. I wouldn’t consider it a probability unless you’re up-front about that right off the bat.) Are there things you simply won’t do? Define those right away, maybe even make a list of them so your mind is very clear on those points. It may be that you’re interested in the gamut of BDSM, or you may not be. By that I mean that you may be into the sado-masochistic aspect and need the edge of pain it provides, but panic if your hands are tied or you’re blindfolded. Conversely, you may be someone who is aroused by being restrained or bound. Maybe you love being tied up, maybe even zipped into a full-body latex suit complete with full-head mask, or having your ankles bound to a spreader bar while you’re bent over with your hands cuffed around a post. There are many, many different aspects of the lifestyle to consider, even if it is a lifestyle for you, or something you just want to dabble in. These are things you need to determine before you go on this hunt. Sure, you can be clear that you’ve never experienced anything like that and you’d like to try it. If so, read on.

Third, you need to know exactly what you can tolerate. Get yourself a little flogger and try lashing yourself. Hurt too much? That’s a good thing to know about yourself. Can’t stand to have your nipples pinched? Then nipple clamps are probably not for you. Everyone has different tolerance points and things they just can’t stand. I do not like to have my feet tickled, period. It’s a mood-killer. I’m one of those people who can have their hair almost pulled out by the roots and it doesn’t bother me, but from the time he was small, my son has never liked brushing his hair – he says it hurts too much. We’re all different, so know what you can stand and what you can’t. And know if being restrained is a panic point for you. Some people are so claustrophobic that blindfolding them sets them into a spiral. Know thyself. And you may even be interested in some degree of ménage, or perhaps poly play or a poly relationship. Those present problems of their own, but we can talk about that later.

Fourth, acknowledge if this isn’t even realistic for you. Maybe you live in a small town, population eighty-three and that pair of conjoined twins down the block (no one’s ever figured out how to count them). If that’s the case, I may be able to help you down the road. Just hang in there and we’ll talk about that later.

And if you’ve already got a guy you’re head over heels in love with, how do you let him know what you’re interested in without him running for the hills? And what if you do let him know and he does head for the hills? We’ll cover that later on too. It may not be as hard as you think.

But know this up front: There is an aspect on which I won’t compromise, and that is one simple word:

SAFETY

I can’t say this often enough: This is one of those things where safety can always, always be in question. No matter how much you think you know, or how much experience this Dominant has, or whether or not you’ve got all the right toys, there is no substitute for safety. You may have a Dominant who is experienced in knot tying similar to shibari, but if he uses the wrong kind of rope, you’re going to have a problem. You can get into trouble with a lot of the things offered in the kink world if you’re not well-versed in their application or use. And there is one that’s worth mentioning.

Breath play. I may get some backlash about this, but I’ve got to say it: There is no safe way to do restrictive breath play. I’m going to say it again: There is no safe way to do restrictive breath play. About the only way to even do breath play is with paper bags or simple holding of the breath, something that when you pass out, it stops. Otherwise, well, let’s just say that every year, dozens of people are arrested when their partner dies from what they thought would be a safe, simple round of breath play. Even physicians who are involved in the lifestyle say there is no safe way to do restrictive breath play. I do not condone it, and you won’t ever see it written about in my books. It’s just too risky.

The other obvious safety issue is actually meeting a Dominant. I’m going to give you some ideas for doing so, but they’re going to be safe. This is not something you can just trust your instincts on, or go with your gut, or whatever you want to call it. There are so many things that can go wrong during a session that safety has got to be first and foremost on everyone’s minds, and that includes just getting off on the wrong foot to begin with. Because believe me, dying will make your arousal disappear in a heartbeat, no pun intended, and the cemeteries in our country are littered with the graves of women who thought they could trust the men they were with and found out too late that they were wrong.

Now that we’ve covered the basics, let me give you a little homework before next week. You’ve just read this post, so go get yourself a tablet and a pencil, or sit down with your iPad or computer, and start thinking. Don’t try to do this in one sitting. Make some notes, walk away, and come back later, or stop by and jot them down as you walk through a room. Write out exactly why you want this, and be honest with yourself about it, bone-slashing honest. Decide what kind of relationship you want and describe it exactly as you picture it. Think about what you really want to do and make a list of the actual physical activities: Nipple torture; orgasm denial; flogging, whipping, caning; restraint, either simple (a pair of cuffs) or extreme (full-body binding of some sort for an extended period of time); electro-erotic play (TENS unit, violet wand); maybe even some of the kink that most people find disgusting (golden showers, scat play, etc.), because, yes, some people enjoy that stuff, and who are we to decide that’s wrong if they’re consenting adults? And then, decide if this is even realistic for you. Look around you – do you know anyone else who’s in the lifestyle? Have a girlfriend who has talked to you about what she and her guy do in the way of kink? Have an adult store in town where you can go and look at supplies? If the answer to all of these is “no,” you need to decide if this is important enough to need to travel for it, or possibly even move to be involved in a relationship or relationships that will offer you that.  You may decide that it’s just too inconvenient, time-consuming, or looks too impossible when you see it all on paper, but make that list of things you’d have to do to be involved with a Dominant on a serious basis, or even to find a place to play.

Get that list made and get ready. And if you think of questions you’d like for me to cover as I go along, please, send them to me. I’ll answer every one of them if I can, pass them off to someone else if I can’t, and if the answer is too personal, I’ll get in touch with you privately so as to avoid embarrassment on the part of either of us. So get to work. And find me on Facebook or email me if you need to. There’s no shame in trying to find a way to get your groove on.

Next week: Let’s try some actual steps to find a Dominant, shall we? Good – I thought you’d like that!

Size DOES matter

There it is again. I'm sorry. This is a hysterical pic and I just had to add it.

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas. I'm sure Santa has something awesome in store for you. But now, we need to discuss something that no one wants to discuss. They tiptoe around it, but really, it’s pretty important. And it’s very simple. All those comments about, “It’s not the size of the ship but the motion of the ocean,” and “Women don’t care about size as long as they’re satisfied?” I just have one comment about those.

Bullshit.

I know someone who had this boyfriend about whom she said, “Yeah. It’s like a button on a fur coat.” I didn’t know exactly what she meant. And then some guys started sending me pics of their junk in PMs on Facebook. Unsolicited. Trust me. Anyway, I started to see these coming in, which of course I must want, seeing as how I write erotic romance (blech) and I noticed something.

There are guys who just don’t realize how tiny their penises really are. I mean, they flash these mini macs like they’re Ron Jeremy, and it’s pathetic. At least a couple of them should do a trim job so they could actually be seen. That jungle thatch provides deep cover for a willy that’s trying to disappear into the forest.

But there are a lot of guys, really nice guys, who have this disadvantage too. I mean, I’m pretty sure I don’t know any of them, but they’re out there. *insert wink here* They have successful relationships with happy women. They have secrets, and they’re good ones. So let me elaborate.

First of all, they make the most of what they have. By that, I mean they learn positions that will give them the greatest, um, trajectory, for lack of a better word. Angle can help a lot, it really can. Positions like Pressing Passion, The Twining, or anything where she’s on top, can be the best for these guys. Anything from behind, though, can be the death of fun. He’s got to be of at least average length and breadth to make that work. Some guys just can’t. Experimentation is key.

Next, trim those trees. If you can’t find it for the thicket, get out your trimmer and go to town. Personally, shaved smooth would be great with me, but a lot of guys are just too reluctant to do that. Why, I don’t know. But I can tell you this; no woman wants a mouthful of hair. So just do it and quit whining about it. And yes, once you do it, you have to keep it up. Just be glad you don’t have to shave your legs and armpits every damn day. Of course, you can if you want. I have to admit, I’ve never been one to judge.

Following those little tidbits, develop that “she comes first” attitude. In case you don’t know about this, I’m going to enlighten you. Pay close attention. Your daddy didn’t tell you this; hell, he probably didn’t know this. So here goes.

There is a physiological response in the female body that’s been built into it from the dawn of time. You see, survival of the species was dependent on mating and replicating, of course. The human female is not the only mammal who has a clitoris, but it is the one that most commonly uses it for sexual stimulation. But why would that be important? Because stimulation of the clitoris and the resulting orgasm makes the human female want to have sex. Does your woman complain that she’s not sure what the big deal about sex is? It’s because she’s not put into that frame of mind by what you have or haven’t done.

But once you’ve given her that first orgasm, she wants to have sex. Really. I mean, really, really wants to have sex. It’s the mating response. And once that kicks in, it’s smooth sailing if you know some useful positions and other tricks of the trade. Yes, it means you have to wait. You’re not three years old. Develop some self-control.

Finally, as for those tricks of the trade I mentioned, here’s where you need to get over yourself. What do I mean by that?

A dildo is not a human sex organ. It’s latex. You’d be amazed at the number of men who are intimidated by a latex phallus. It’s ridiculous. But they’ve got it in their heads that if they use one that’s bigger than they are, the object of their affection (unless she’s a blowup doll) will like it better than she likes him and he’ll be out in the cold while she entertains herself with the Jumbo Juicer.

Guys, that’s not going to happen. Well, okay, it might in one case out of one hundred. Make that eighty. If you’re a real asshole and don’t pay any attention to her at all, well, that drops to one out of twenty, and I wouldn’t blame her.

But if you’re not well endowed, using sex toys of any kind can really kickstart the session and get it going in a direction so favorable that, by the time you’re at the point where it’s your turn to “take the plunge,” she wouldn’t care if you were sporting a toothpick – she just wants it, and wants it right that minute.

And as for sex toys, don’t neglect the nipples. You may not know this, but the nerves in the nipples are directly linked to the uterus. That’s why breastfeeding helps a woman’s uterus shrink after childbirth. But there’s now some research that suggests the signals the brain receives from the nipples bypasses the uterus altogether and are very, very similar to those signals received from the genitals. Any good clinician of women’s sexual health (of which there are very few, believe me, but that’s a subject for another blog post) will tell you that nipple play is crucial in the play session. Keep that in mind.

So here are some last-minute holiday shopping ideas that your woman might like. You can get things like this at Babeland, Adam & Eve, and Stockroom, all fine retailers. And don’t forget Amazon. They have an amazing selection of goodies.

Dildo – Make it a good one. Nice quality latex, easy to clean, and big enough that she can actually feel it. If you want it similar in size to you, that’s fine, but this is supposed to get her ready, not be the grand finale, so remember that. If you really want to turn up the heat, get a double ended one. What are you supposed to do with the other end, you ask? Use your imagination, you idiot. You can figure this out. Whatever you decide to do with the other end is the right thing to do – no matter WHAT it is. Speaking of which, don’t forget another dildo or some anal beads or a plug if you want to take her to the “dark side.” It’s fun over there, cookies or no, and having separate toys for that foray is a must for safety sake. Then it’s wash, wash, wash with a good quality antibacterial soap or toy cleaner, followed by rinse, rinse, rinse, and air dry. Because, just because.

Vibrator – Make this a good one too. In this particular instance, cost is an indicator of quality. Yes, battery powered ones are good, but only if you have a big, BIG package of batteries handy and you’re willing to possibly waste some in order to change them out each time you’ve had them in use for awhile. In other words, after three nights of use, even if it seems to still have juice, change out the batteries. Nothing’s worse than being right in the middle of a session and having the damn thing die. And I should know. Hence the entry in my little world of the Hitachi Magic Wand. Yes, the damn thing needs a cord that’s longer than 2.5 feet (what the hell were they thinking?), but it’s still more reliable than its battery-powered cousins. It even has attachments available. And you can get a harness that allows it to be strapped on for forced orgasms. How cool is that? Well, I think so anyway. And now you have too much information. Damn. I do that all the time.

Rope and restraints – The right kind, not the wrong kind. No clothesline rope. Something soft and slick. Japanese shibari rope is best, but it’s kinda pricey. You can find something else, but it should be something that isn’t self-grabbing so it doesn’t tighten on its own. And read up on rules of bondage and restraint so you know how this is done safely. Frankly, buckling or Velcro closure cuffs are a lot safer. Add a spreader bar to them, and voila! It’s hours of fun!

Nipple clamps – These come in all types, styles, kinds, colors, and strengths. I’d advise starting out with something not to terribly harsh in the beginning, so steer clear of clover clamps and go for something adjustable, like a pair of duckbill clamps. Having a chain between them is even better. Many clamps have holes from which you can hang weights. If you can’t afford them, any kind of adjusting, locking pliers will do, and they can be even headier when allowed to dangle in some positions.

Candles – Two kinds here. One, women are very, very sensitive to smell, so scented candles can go a long way toward getting her ready. So can a shower (for you, not necessarily for her), because no woman wants to have sex with a guy who smells like the bottom of a gym bag. The other are wax play candles. No, you cannot buy them at the Yankee Candle store. They’re specially made to be safe for wax play, and you do need to look up some instruction on their use. And don’t forget the lotion or oil to prepare the skin beforehand.

Fantasy clothing – Most women, if they’re honest, will tell you that they like dressing up. If they’re into age play, they want to wear things an eight year old would wear. But most of us like to get a little (okay, a lot) slutty when we’re dressing out for play. Satin, lace, spandex, latex – it’s all fun. Stockings. Stilettos. Even hooker platforms. They’re all alluring and stimulate parts of the brain that make us feel more adventurous and open. You can buy them for her but, better yet, let her pick them out herself. Yes, she’s wearing it for you in theory, so if it’s something you like, that’s good. But if you let her pick out what she wants to wear, she’s going to pick out something that she thinks makes her look sexier, and that’s going to make her feel sexier. Get it? No? You’re an idiot. Go hire a hooker. At least she’ll be complimentary.

Gift card – Most of the major adult retailers offer online gift cards. Get her one and let her pick out some things. And don’t be intimidated by her choices. Just run with them. You’ll love it, I promise.

Crazy paraphernialia – This encompasses all of the extremely expensive, hard-to-use or hard-to-mount shit that’s available out there. Fucking machines. Sex swings (yeah, don’t get that sucker anchored in a rafter and the ceiling will the least of your worries). Sounds. (Don’t know what those are? Look them up.) Catheters. Enema systems. Expensive bondage furniture. All kinds of ramps and pillows and wedges. And don’t forget electro-erotic play. I love that stuff, but it’s hellspensive. You don’t need any of these things, but if you can afford them, well, buy the hell out of them. It’ll be fun city at your house for a long, long time.

So to recap, a teeny wienie doesn’t have to be the end of your career as a sexual overlord. It can be a bump in the road, or it can be a grand adventure toward some things you never would’ve tried anyway. If you're creative, you can be her hero forever and a man every woman lusts after (well, you and your toy box). And if all else fails?

There’s always jelqing. And that’s another blog post.

Me and my filthy mind

First off, let me clarify: If you don’t know anything about me and you’ve stumbled across this blog post, you should know that I write erotic romance and erotica. Apparently, that’s otherwise known as smut. Whatever. It’s fun. If you don’t like it, I’ve got two words for you.

Bite me.

Yes. It's a pic of a naked guy. Who's not twenty-two.
And it's my blog, so I can do this if I want.

Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I can get on to what I wanted to say in today’s post. And that’s simply this:

I have a filthy mind. I know this about myself. I’m not going to deny it. Yes, it’s filthier than most, I do believe (I could be wrong on this point, but I’m betting I’m not). Even if it’s not filthier than most, I write down some of it, and that puts me in a class all by myself. Well, me and several thousand other smut writers. But that kind of went without saying.

Anyway, I started trying to figure out how I got here, and I’m not really sure, so I thought I’d throw out some ideas and see where they went.

First off, I grew up in an uber-ultraconservative home where being humble reigned supreme and they were proud to tell you how humble they were. My dad wanted to be the most important person at the church, which led to him not only working in the evenings as the custodian there, but served an even greater purpose – it gave him a few more minutes a day away from my mother. I sometimes went with him while he worked there. There was a reason for that. Hang on. I’m getting to it.

I was an insomniac until I got pregnant the first time, at which time I finally learned to not only sleep, but to love it. Why was I an insomniac, you ask? Because every night, for hours and hours, I had to listen to my parents fight. What were they fighting about?

Sex.

She didn’t want it. He did it wrong. He said the wrong things. She felt like a dirty whore when she had sex with him. Blah, blah, blah. Remember: This was all coming from a woman who told me just a few years ago that the nurses in the hospital were idiots because they inserted her catheter in the wrong place. She thought she urinated through her clitoris. When I asked her if, like Kathy Bates in Fried Green Tomatoes, had she ever taken a mirror and taken a good look at the “wonder down under,” she promptly said, “Eewwwww!” End of discussion.

All of this said, here’s the interesting part: My dad was a porn addict. While he was telling my mother that he didn’t have the money to buy us shoes or to send us to the clinic when we were sick, he was racking up the porn magazines and hiding them in the HVAC registers all over the house. Oh, and there was a loose floorboard in the attic too. He wasn’t especially creative.

Would I ever talk to my mother about sex? Hell, no. I’d get something like this: “Yeah, you’re just like your father,” which, in some ways, isn’t all that bad.

But, of course, there’s the year he insisted on getting us a Super8 movie projector. Then he’d never buy us movies for it. You can only watch the same two ten-minute movies a couple of times and you’re over it. I always wondered why he gave it to us when he didn’t want to buy more movies. And then one day, in their closet, I came across his movie purchases. Disney they weren’t.

As I got older, nobody talked to me about sex except my friends, and most of them didn’t know any more about it than I did. Their parents weren’t real forthcoming either. Or they were way too forthcoming and, well, I won’t go there. Suffice it to say I got a lot of really skewed, convoluted misinformation.

I married young to a man who was interested in his satisfaction. Mine was never a concern. Yay me. Unfortunately, I also spent a lot of time around my mother (a thing I have since rectified). In doing so, I got to listen to her gripe and complain about my dad, what a filthy mind he had, how he was gross and disgusting during sex.

Friends, if you don’t think listening to your mother bitch about her sex life will affect not only your attitude about sex but also your libido, think again.

Here’s the thing I know about myself, though. From an early age, I was very sexual. I think I started learning about nipple sensation when I was about six. I didn’t find my clitoris until I was maybe twelve. I didn’t know what it was. I only knew that I liked it – a lot. There was something else I liked a lot too.

Boys. Oh yeah. I liked boys A LOT. Lots and lots of boys. I wouldn’t exactly call myself a slut, but it didn’t take a lot of coercion. Maybe a little liquor, but not coercion.

Oh, who the hell am I kidding. I was a slut.

So I slept my way through my later years of high school – after 15, with the boy who’d later become my ex-husband, the only way I can even tolerate thinking of him – and when we split up, I took on anybody I fancied. I had myself some fun. My ultra-conservative parents were appalled (well, one of them anyway). I, on the other hand, was having the time of my life.

It was during that period that I met Sir. He’s always claimed he was a virgin when he met me. He is an absolute, positive liar, of this I’m absolutely positive. I can tell you, however, that he knew NOTHING about sex. By the way, that’s bold faced, underscored, and italicized for a reason, indeed it is. Everything he knows about good sex, I taught him. Now he’s a pro, whatever that is, but yeah, he’s pretty damn fine. So stay the hell away. He’s mine.

Anyway, I raised two kids, worked full time, had a partner who, back then, was gone four weeks and home two (and I do mean gone, like leave-and-don’t-come-back, won’t-be-here-for-the-holidays gone), and sex was something that really didn’t mean a lot. Then the kids grew up, Sir’s work moved to a four weeks on/four weeks off kind of thing, and we were together more. It was torture. Not kidding.

Worse yet, I had no libido. None. It was gone. Plus, for those who don’t know me, I’ve battled severe clinical depression my entire life. Finally, in 2011, after burying four family members in 18 months and living through a summer of sheer hell on earth, I decided my life either had to get better, or I had to die. For reasons I cannot explain, I decided it would get better.

The first thing I did was go to a new doctor, one who actually did more than say, “Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh,” followed by, “Now, look.” I talked to her frankly. I told her that I had no libido. And I told her that I was depressed. She prescribed an antidepressant. I also went to a new gynecologist and told her that I had no libido, plus a lot of other symptoms which screamed menopause (I had a hysterectomy in 1983 and never received hormone replacement therapy). She started me on HRT. I started watching what I ate and working out. And something mysterious and wonderful happened. I don’t know where my libido had been, but it came back from its long, long vacation with some demands, namely “feed me,” “feed me,” and “feed me.”

But there was trouble in Paradise because, unbeknownst to me, the antidepressant I was taking had a horrible side effect: I developed anorgasmia. I don’t really want to explain that, so look it up. And considering that me and my libido were putting Sir through the ringer, god help him, it was devastating. I wound up at a women’s sexual health research facility in Nashville, Tennessee, and I’m proud to say that, after two years of treatment, I have a new “normal.” It’s not like the old “normal” (whatever that was), but rather is better in some ways and worse in others.

And now for my filthy mind.

Yes, I think about sex – a lot. I’m not going to lie about it. Hell, I’d better; I write about it. All my writing life I’ve heard it over and over: “Write what you know.” And I aim to do enough research to know exactly what I’m talking about when I write. Did some last night. Ha – WTMI! Whatever. But I do think about it a lot, and act on it too. Because of all this, I’ve learned some very important things.

One is that women really do think about and talk about sex more than men. They say a man thinks about sex five times every seven seconds. If that’s true, I don’t know how the average woman gets anything done except to say that women are exceptional multi-taskers, and you know I’m right. Anyway, I’d say I think about sex at least every seven seconds, maybe more. But I’m trying to write sex scenes, so I have an excuse. What’s yours? Oh, sorry. More WTMI.

Another is that women talk about sex more than men do. When my friend, lazy Hitler that he is, told me that, I scoffed. I also scoffed when he told me, “Guys don’t say boobs; they say tits.” And, with some observation, I discovered he was right. They also say “titties,” a word that just grates on my nerves, so don’t say it around me. I mean it. But I also discovered that he was right about the talking thing. We do talk about sex more than guys, and we’re way, way more graphic when we do. If you don’t believe me, come to a few author takeovers on Facebook and you’ll see.

Then there’s another difference between men and women: We can’t keep our hands to ourselves. I’ve seen several admonishments from authors regarding the cover models who sometimes accompany them to book signings, asking readers to please be respectful. One even said they’d appreciate it if readers didn’t grope the models and/or spend copious amounts of time telling them all the sexy, nasty things they’d like to do to the poor guys. Most of them are married and/or have kids, and they are super, super nice, friendly, sweet guys who don’t mind baring it for the camera but don’t especially want to sleep with every woman they meet. Apparently some women have trouble discerning “appropriate touching.” Frankly, I think that comes from a society where, as soon as they hit puberty, men are taught to keep their hands to themselves, but women are taught that guys like girls who are a little slutty. Problem is, we have trouble telling the difference.

And then there are the pictures. Oh, my god, the pictures. They’re all over Facebook, naked guys, half-naked guys, guys with cock socks, guys without cock socks, guys with full backal nudity. (Hmmmm. What’s the opposite of frontal? I’m not sure.) And gay porn. Oh, yeah, women like gay porn. I’m not sure why we do, but we do. It’s yummy. Maybe it’s because, as a general rule, gay guys pay way more attention to their appearances than straight guys. I know more than a few women who’ve had their pictures censored or even been blocked because of the pics they posted. Which is a damn shame, because I liked them.

Me? I try to show a little restraint. I posted a pic of a girl wearing a thong with a handprint on her ass that was obviously Photoshopped in and got a slap on the wrist. Asshats.

Put this all together, and you’ve got a bunch of horny, worked-up women running around, talking about sex, looking at porn, and grabbing the crotch of extremely hot guys (not me, I would never, never do that). Which has led me to an important conclusion.

I came by my filthy mind honestly. Fifty Shade of Grey was not made popular by male readers, although they’ve been looking at BDSM-themed pics in porn for years. No, it was made popular by female readers who either enjoy that type of sexual activity, or wish their guys would man up and give them that. And maybe they’re too shy to tell the guys that. Let me tell you, they’re not too shy to tell each other that – they’re talking about it ALL THE TIME.

Fortunately for me and my partners in crime, they’re reading about it too. There’s a lot of it in my books. Lazy Hitler read one and said, “There’s a lot of sex in there,” which prompted the discussion of tits and lady sex talk. I write it. I write it because Sir told me, after reading FSOG, “Honey, you write a lot better than this.” It's been very beneficial for our sex life, because I get to think about and write about this stuff all the time and make a little money to boot, so I fill page after page full of it as I chuckle and giggle and moan. He also knows me and he knows I can get that on paper, that moment when you’re teetering on the edge and you’re about to drop over. You know the one, where you’re writhing and crying out, eyes closed and rolled back in your head. The moment when you scream out . . .

Sorry. Gotta go. Sir’s home this weekend and time’s a-wasting.