Mind the gap

June 28, 2005

The passing of another Pride in New York made me think a bit about what a lousy queer I am, and furthermore about the ways that gender and sexuality are dichotomized, the way things are separated into neat little identities that really aren�t. A bit of perceptiveness (though nothing earthshattering) I�ve always had about gender and sexuality is just that the mainstream media pitches the pink and the blue and the straight roles of daddymommyfamily, but in the day to day lives of people, adherence to these roles is often casual at best. While I�ve been joking to Jane recently that I�ve been cured of my bisexuality and I know that sexuality and feelings about one�s gender and body change over the good ole lifecycle, I can�t help but notice the abject straightness of my life these days and wonder if I�m contributing to the divide, the battle of the sexes as it were.

I�ve always considered myself a bit of a queer, a bit of a perv and a bit of a confusing ball of weirdness when it comes to gender things. However, since beginning to put myself on camera and spending on the clock time naked with strange straight men, I�ve veered sharply towards all things straight and femme. Well, femme for me any way � I�ve sort of learned how to apply makeup and wear heels, though in day to day sex work I�m too lazy for both of those. Though I�ve always seen myself as being on a bit of a mission to queer the heterosexual and throw a wrench into assumptions about what I�m about drawn from the way I present myself, I think perhaps I�ve slipped a little bit into supporting the dominant paradigm. I think I�ve begun to believe in the gender gap more than I should, watching stereotypes of gender and sexuality play themselves out has made me into too much of a believer in difference.

Grrl queerness aside � actually, stop that sentence there, because that is precisely what�s happening. I�m putting grrl queerness aside, because it isn�t profitable � or rather, it is, but only in a very creepy way that includes straight dudes fetishizing me for my bisexual and queer qualities. It�s easier on my brain and my identity to play straight � but maybe I�ve taken that a bit too far, far enough to see the battle of the sexes split over the lines of money, possession of pussy and sex-games.

There is no place where the gap between men and women is more apparent than in the straight sex industry, which is structured around the concept of �we ladies have what you dudes want, and you will pay us to get it.� �It� can be a huge variety of things, but whatever that may be, it defines gender roles more solidly than any pink or blue things ever could. Sure I can put my very own spin on things, as I have and will continue to do, but while I don�t think I see all men as walking wallets, I do think that procuring my living from the sex industry has given me a very different perspective on the space between men and women and the experience of different bodies in capitalism.

Once you make a living from sex � and I mean this in a very broad sense: from delving into sexuality in an academic way, to working on public relations for a porn company, to selling my ass, to modeling � there�s really no going back. Participating in the selling of sex as sex, not perfume or hot dogs disguised as sex, has altered my reality. Though it�s not all bad � in many ways I feel like I can put on my I-know-something-you-don�t-know hat (Yes, that comes in a hat. It is red) � it�s definitely made it so that I know more than I should about people. I feel both gifted and cursed with knowing what I know about people and their sexualities, both in the specific and general senses. While it�s true that there�s no turning back, that also means that things can only get more interesting in the future.

Posted by Dacia at 12:34 AM | Comments (11) | TrackBack

Audacia on CIUT 89.5 FM's The Shady Lady

June 26, 2005

6.26.05
$pread editors on The Shady Lady, Toronto’s sex worker radio show

On Monday, June 27, from 11 am to noon, I’ll be gabbing away with a fellow $pread editor on Kara Gillies’ sex worker radio show, The Shady Lady. You can listen to the show live on CIUT 89.5 FM’s website.

Posted by Dacia at 08:57 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

Ask Audacia Anything 4

June 24, 2005

Yesterday after I wrote my raw anger post, I felt really purged of a lot of that anger. Although I�ve become increasingly emotionally restrained in my blog of late, for a variety of reasons, I felt that it was useful for me and my readers for me to lay my emotions bare around this thing that happened to me. This is partly because I love the power and draw of the blog (as I mentioned yesterday) but also because I write about sex, and unfortunately painful accidents can be part of sex.

After my online public emotional purge I left the house and didn�t check email for another twelve hours. I went off to a $pread editors meeting, got a phone call from my brother (who�s in Spain right now), and then met up with the brilliant and lovely ladies Jane and Ellen and went to Jersey to be a guest speaker in Ellen�s human sexuality class at Rutgers University.

It was a good day, as was today � and despite the fact that I�m a little slow moving and have to sit down carefully, I�m feeling a lot better in my brain.

Anyway � onto this week�s Ask Audacia. In the talk I did at Rutgers last night, I basically went through a run down of what the average week looks like for me. I started out by talking about my work with $pread Magazine (issue 2 out soon!) and then asked the class what kind of jobs they think of when they think of the sex industry. From there I went through the play by play of my professional lives. In between days, there were a lot of really fantastic questions, and here�s one of my favorites�

If you could improve one thing about the sex industry � other than decriminalizing prostitution � what would you do?

Plain and simple: health care. Of course in American society in general I think health care could stand for some major improvements in terms of access, acceptance of alternative lifestyles (I can�t believe I just used that phrase), and sliding scale fees depending on income. Though of course obtaining health care is difficult for an independent worker or freelancer in any industry, it�s pretty crucial that sex workers � especially those who provide services that include sexual contact with customers � have access to good, unbiased health care. For those who do have insurance, it�s unfortunate that most insurance carriers don�t cover more than one pap smear a year and that most companies red flag files if the insurance carrier has more than one HIV test in a year, which could make it more difficult to obtain coverage if a new insurance provider is needed. Although testing is required in the adult film industry, the majority of companies don�t pay for their employees� tests ($150 every 30 days for the standard set of tests, plus a lab fee and any extra tests like a throat culture).

Anyway, I know this is basically empty bitching because I don�t necessarily have a workable solution to this problem that keeps the government out of our pants but enables sex workers to have access to health care without shame and without a heavy financial toll on our existence. But, if I had a magic wand, I would make health care better in general, and specifically with respect to sex workers.

Posted by Dacia at 11:02 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

Damaged goods

June 23, 2005

After writing my post and telling some of my friends and lovers about what happened on Monday night, I was weirdly unsatisfied and angry at the responses. It wasn�t any one response in particular, or any particular combination of words � but I just felt angry at the world. I know everyone means well, but being hurt and fucked up in the head kinda makes me hate everything and read genuine sentiments from people who don�t know what to say as useless platitudes. This is because as bad as other people may feel about things, everyone but me can go on their merry fucking way, and I do mean fucking. I, on the other hand, have a lacerated labia and a damaged sexual imagination at the moment. Seeing Todd�s hand emerge from my cunt covered in my blood is an image that I replay in my brain a thousand times a second. I can�t shake it.

I�ve decided that I really don�t care how other people feel about this incident or what it brings up for them. I�m not doing damage control, I don�t care if anyone I tell is upset or angered by what I�ve got to say about what happened to me, because I�m carrying the broken burden of what happened to me.

Maybe that�s an overly aggressive or hostile way to put it out there � but I feel very raw emotionally and broken physically, and I think that�s a significant and important place to write from � no apologies. And really, this is the power of blogging � I�m writing from where I am right now, in this moment of horror, shock, and anger. At first I thought I should let some of that subside before I wrote about what happened, but really � I don�t want to soften the blow, I don�t want to come to terms with things and then report back. I want to write about my sexuality now, in this moment � because that�s what I do, and I should do that when sex is horrific and bad, as well as when it�s awesome and ecstatic.

One of my commenters made a really perfect point on my last post:

People talk all the time about �victimless crimes� - but what are far more common sometimes are the �criminal-less crimes�. Bad stuff happens and it is nobody�s fault. Doesn�t mean it isn�t bad stuff. Just that it is no one�s fault.

This is absolutely correct, and I know enough to not put my anger on Todd, but I�m still angry � angry at the universe, angry at the fact that Todd and the rest of my friends can go off and have a sex party 24 hours after my injury. It�s no one�s fault, and everyone should feel free to enjoy their sexualities to the fullest, but for me that enjoyment has come to a screeching halt. I don�t know what to do with the overwhelming feelings of anger and bitterness, except to let it exist and swirl around me. I can�t and won�t pretend it doesn�t exist � and I know that maybe that�s scary for other people; my anger laid bare is something that others will shy away from. But it�s where I am right now, and that�s what I know.

Posted by Dacia at 11:01 AM | Comments (19) | TrackBack

Farewell fuck

June 21, 2005

Staring at my calendar on Sunday afternoon, I tried to figure out how to accomplish fine feats of crazy scheduling in the short amount of time I have before I cross the big blue and make mischief in a strange city. As I�m prone to do, I made a list of things I had to do, and in short order it turned into a list of people I�d like to do. The list got a little longer than I knew my schedule could manage, so I had to prioritize. Item one: Todd. I got an email out to him immediately, and we set up a date for Monday evening.

When I got to Todd�s place he was just starting to watch Mario Bava�s Diabolik. We drooled over the latex hood the title character was wearing and leered at his bombshell-hot girlfriend sidekick. We sat chatting, catching up, lightly touching each other here and there.

Todd was really excited to show me the new crowning glory of his sex toy collection: a tear drop cock ring. Seriously, check out that link, because the thing is a gorgeous shiny work of art. He put it on for me, and we experimented with the different ways it could be worn. As he fiddled with it, I unconsciously sunk to my knees � you know, to get a better look at it. I slid his hardening cock into my mouth and stopped only to tell him, �You know how much I love the cock and balls, but this cock ring just frames them so well and makes them shiny. Cock and shiny things � what else could I ask for?� The answer presented itself immediately � cock and shiny things to get my hands and mouth all over.

I spent my time exploring his reactions to different kinds of touch. I like to suck cock slowly, languorously, so I can feel every centimeter of it slide between my lips, explore every bump, vein and curve. Its part worshipful rapture, part production of a cartographic memory as I lose myself in listening to the responses of the body I�m intent on pleasuring. As I swirled my tongue lightly around Todd�s cock, I scratched my fingers ever so lightly across his taut balls with my right hand, and slipped my left hand between his legs to where the point of his cock ring met his perineum, and pressed softly. I looked up at him as he ran his fingers over his nipples, smiled to myself as I remembered him saying earlier that it felt like his perineum and his nipples were attached to the same hot nerve. I slowly pulled my mouth off of him to wipe off some of my drool (how�d I get drool on my ankle?) and he shivered. He was standing with his ass facing the air conditioner�s blast. We made a move to the couch.

Todd sat me down on the couch and helped me wriggle out of my panties as he lightly kissed the soft parts of my thighs and bit softly on the flesh just above my hips. I never used to like this part, the teasing touching before the serious touching, you know, that thing called foreplay. These days I�ve been liking it more and more, concentrating on enjoying touch that doesn�t directly lead up to orgasm. I let my body fold back into the soft leather of the couch, giving myself over to him and concentrating on his caresses. He spent some time warming me up with his tongue, tickling my labia, stroking my clit firmly and then wiggling my piercing so that the lower ball rubbed my clit. I breathed a happy sigh when he slid his first finger into me and I felt my cunt muscles close around him, my pussy hungry for penetration. He set his right thumb to work on my clit and hit just the right angle so that I began to squirt. In my haze of coming, I saw him cup his left hand to catch the come spraying out of my pussy. He slid the fingers of his left hand inside of me, palm still cupped to catch errant girl juices. My body was beginning to rocket into orbit, and I began to shake. He read my body perfectly and picked up the pace a little bit.

He was using his elbow to plunge the full length of his fingers in and out, expertly cradling my g-spot as he penetrated me fully. I felt the tremors of orgasm deep in my womb, sprouting from the base of my spine - the hairs on the back of my neck stood up and my toes curled hard. As I moved into full orgasm mode, I felt on the verge of speaking in tongues; the discernable words I could get out were �moremoremore.� I was at the cusp of a series of big, badass, insane-o orgasms, and ready to let loose. As I entered the second wave of orgasm, lifting my hips to meet Todd�s hands, he slipped and I felt the slight sting of a fingernail scratch. I came hard hard hard and then dropped my ass back down on the couch. He straightened his fingers to let my juices run down his hand and I looked down to see just how big the puddle of come was. I was surprised to see that his hand wasn�t full of come at all, but rather big globs of fierce orange red blood. It was coming from my pussy � and lots of it. His hand and wrist were slick and sickly colored with it. Involuntary tears broke from my eyes and streamed down my cheeks. I didn�t feel hurt, but the color of Todd�s hands said otherwise.

He pulled back a bit and said the only thing worth saying, �Oh. I�m� sorry. I�ll get some towels.� I lay back on the couch in dull shock, not moving, afraid to touch myself down there, not really feeling anything. Todd returned with paper towels, and I quickly soaked through half a roll of towels as we cleaned up the growing puddle of blood on my legs, his couch and floor and his hands. I stayed put, not really knowing what to do or say about it. Todd assured me that he wasn�t freaked out or disgusted by the blood. I just didn�t have anything to say. After soaking through a bunch of towels, I wrapped a bunch more around my hand and applied pressure. He wrapped some ice in towels for me and said that he wanted to go get us something to eat and some sugar for me � I was looking a bit pale. When he came back I was still sitting in the same spot, with a towel of bloody half melted ice and paper towel wadded up between my legs. He asked if I was mobile enough to make it to the roof to enjoy the sunset and our dinner, and I said I thought so but I wanted to wash myself first. In the bathroom I saw another pile of bloody paper towels � the ones that Todd must have used to get the blood off his hands. I dropped the towels in the trash can and got in the shower, carefully washing myself. The bleeding had slowed to a trickle, and I wanted to get some fresh air so we ate our pizza on the roof. Todd promised me the ultimate in pampering massages once we got back to his apartment.

After the sunset, we made our way downstairs and finished up Diabolik. I was feeling funky and not at all sexy, but I wasn�t in any pain, so I didn�t mind sitting and listening to Todd�s chatter about the minutiae of Mario Bava�s talent. I got up to use the bathroom, and when I peeled my underwear back I realized I was still bleeding quite a bit. Peeing stung like all hell as the urine mixed into my fresh wound. I felt dizzy, and decided that my night was over. I wanted to go home. Todd and I had a long hug at the door of his apartment and I began the journey home.

On the train I realized that I�d had quite the delayed reaction and that I was much more freaked by the incident than I thought initially. When I got home, I took a mirror between my legs to see how things looked � and I almost fainted from seeing an angry crescent of torn flesh on the inside of my inner right labia, blood smeared all over my labia and down the inside of my thighs. It was still bleeding, hours later, and looked way worse than the surface scratch I hoped it was. I got in the shower, shaking, and watched blood run down my legs � feeling a bit woozy, I sat down in the tub and began to cry. It wasn�t so much the pain as the shock and weird feeling of looking at my body and seeing it broken and bleeding in a place that it supposed to be happy, feeling so distanced from the pleasure, and just� not knowing what to do with myself. I crawled out of the shower, wrapped myself in my big fuzzy robe and curled up in my bed. I reached for my phone and dialed Jane. Having taken another road trip to visit her family, she�d stopped at a hotel in Pennsylvania for the night, but when she heard my shaking voice, she said she�d be at my door in a few hours.

While I waited for her, I wrote in my journal and snacked on some chocolate. She called to give me updates on her journey, and we joked that my summoning her in the wee hours of the morning would help to avoid the traffic she�d surely encounter in the morning. She made sure I wasn�t spending all my time looking at my angry gash in the mirror, and I assured her that I couldn�t bear to look. When she arrived, I dropped my pants and showed her the damage. We decided that since the bleeding was pretty much under control, we�d wait until the morning for me to call my doctor instead of doing a late night trip to the emergency room. Even if I needed stitches, just then I couldn�t deal with the thought of having someone other than my lovely little Lower East Side Jewish lady doctor spreading my legs and prodding at my most tender of tender bits. I put a maxi pad on and curled up with Jane to fall asleep to my ultimate in comfort movies, Singin� in the Rain.

This morning my doctor said she�d see me right away, so preparing for the worst case scenario of a trip to the ER for stitches, Jane and I gathered our books, a pair of sandwiches and an ample supply of chocolate. My doctor looked at it and said that it looked like Todd had hit a vein, which explains why there was so much blood. The skin is very much broken, but there�s also a bit of a blood blister going on, and it will take a week or so for the cut to close, probably longer for the bruising and soreness to go away.

It will get better � I know I�ll heal and my cunt won�t be broken forever, but I just feel awful today: shaken, sore, and achy. Worse than the physical pain, I feel like the happiness and security of my cunt is a thousand miles away, floating on a plane of dull achy and marred flesh.

Posted by Dacia at 02:47 PM | Comments (17) | TrackBack

Hurtling towards go

June 19, 2005

In two weeks, I’ll be embarking on a month of intensive graduate study on the topic sexuality and culture at the University of Amsterdam. After my month in Amsterdam, I’ll be meeting James in Paris and then traveling for another three weeks, making this trip the longest stretch of time that I’ve been away from New York pretty much ever.

I can’t believe I’ve only got two weeks left with my city, my friends and my pile of work I need to get done. When I return I know I’ll be coming back to a life slightly altered - 7 weeks in foreign lands can do that to a girl, plus I’ll be returning to a city that no longer has Jane in it.

I won’t be getting naked for money for seven whole weeks (though actually there is a possibility that I’ll do a bit of modeling). I’ve worked my ass off lately in order to afford a seven week vacation, and goddamn am I ever ready for it.

I know I’m being too hard on myself, but in many ways I feel like I’m failing at keeping a balance between the pursuits of the mind and the pleasures of the flesh. I feel like I’ve veered sharply towards the pleasures of the flesh. I’ve learned a lot from it, but I also feel like this chase has taken me a little bit away from who and what I am at core, leaving me with this peculiar feeling of disconnect.

It’s funny (though maybe not funny ha-ha) that in order to reconnect with my bits and pieces, I need to leave not just my city, but my country and my continent. I’m hoping that I’ll be able to see my life a bit more clearly from a distance, and that things will fall in line a little bit better. I’ve designed my life to be a bit of a trainwreck, but I’m so deep in right now I’m having trouble seeing what’s next.

EDIT: To be clear, I won’t be deserting you all for seven weeks. I’m bringing my laptop with me to Amsterdam, as I’ll have plenty of work to do while I’m there and I’ll probably be updating with about the same frequency as I do here. In August, however, I’ll be backpacking around, so my updates will be less frequent.

Posted by Dacia at 10:01 PM | Comments (8) | TrackBack

Ask Audacia Anything 3

June 17, 2005

And - we�re back! It was neither warm nor sunny in New England the last few days � in fact I had to purchase extra warm and fluffy outerwear to combat the fact that it was nearly forty degrees colder in New England than it was in New York. Being the resourceful girls we are, Jane and I still managed to have us some fun of the non-sexy variety. Anyway, onto the questions for this week!

Someone has asked to massage his prostate. I’ve never done this and need to know what I do after I get my well-lubed finger into his asshole. Help!

The way I usually describe the prostate is by saying that it�s a powerful bundle of nerve inside a guy�s ass. Rubbing the prostate is kind of like rubbing the base of the cock from the inside. This sensation sends many guys into orbit, and just because a guy likes having his prostate stimulated does not mean that he is gay. There are also some guys who (fears/misconceptions about anal sex aside) just don�t like prostate stimulation.

For adventures in manual prostate stimulation, I recommend you don a pair of latex or nitrile gloves (this link goes to a website that sells gloves � the design of it gives me a headache, but it seems like a good source for single boxes of gloves). This is partly for cleanliness and is a safer sex practice, but also protects tender ass tissues from fingernails. You should trim and file your nails nice and short before venturing into an ass, and be careful that your nails don�t scratch the ass tissue � use the pads of your fingers for all rubbing and poking.

Let�s start out with some ass anatomy before you go hands-on in search of the prostate. First, a bisection of the area in question:

As you can see, the prostate is tucked nicely at the base of the cock. The prostate can become engorged when it is stimulated � it�s often called the male g-spot because it behaves and feels (to the touch) somewhat similarly to the g-spot in the female. The prostate is best stimulated through anal penetration, which can of course be accomplished with toys, but is often way more fun to do with fingers. Fingers make it easier to gauge the ass�s response and to find the prostate � plus they�re cheaper than silicone.

When I do a prostate massage, I prefer my guy to be on his back, with his legs slightly apart and knees bent. This position is optimal for both verbal and nonverbal communication, as you�ll basically be face to face. Start out by rubbing a well-lubed finger on his asshole, and basically �listen� to it. You�ll feel it relax when he�s ready and then you can start your entry.

The entry to the anus is controlled by two sphincters - a voluntary sphincter is the first one your finger will touch as you penetrate him, and about a knuckle in is an involuntary sphincter. If you treat them nice � some soft rubbing and teasing - these two sphincters will soften to your touch and allow you to enter the ass. Don�t be surprised if they contract at various intervals during your play, and if your guy has an orgasm while your fingers are in his ass, be prepared to push back, as the contractions can be impressively strong.

As you push your finger in, go very slow and you�ll probably feel a bit of resistance � one of my favorite moments in anal penetration is the moment when I�ve just started to penetrate, I�m about two knuckles in, and I wait for the ass to relax � then suddenly the ass will give � on some people it will feel like your finger is being sucked into the ass. It�s a pretty incredible feeling.

It�s important to note that the rectum has a curve to it (see pic above), so you can�t just go straight in without bumping into things. As you push your finger inside the rectum, curve it towards his belly button � that�s where you�ll find the prostate (incidentally this is the same for the g-spot in a woman, but in the vagina). Though you�ll have to feel around a bit for it, the prostate should be about a finger�s length into the rectum (convenient eh?). I usually start out by rubbing small circles on and around the prostate � you�ll probably start to feel it swell. Of course you should also ask your guy what he�s feeling and if you�re hitting the spot. The texture of the prostate is firmer and sort of more porous than the smooth walls of the rectum. You can also use a kind of come-hither motion, like you�d do on a g-spot.

Sometimes prostate stimulation will cause an erection, sometimes it won�t. Sometimes a guy will love to have his cock stroked while his prostate is rubbed, sometimes he won�t. Sometimes a guy will ejaculate from prostate stimulation alone, sometimes he�ll orgasm without ejaculation. See what I�m getting at? Prostate stimulation produces a huge variety of responses that might vary from guy to guy or from experience to experience for the same guy.

I have decided it is time to invest in my own strap on after having used other people’s with varying degrees of comfort.

I would like the advice and guidance of your professional knowledge. I have noted the cheaper ones are uncomfortable when someone wants to get fucked hard and a piece of hard hollow plastic is grinding into and smashing up against my pubic bone. This has led me to just use my hand in the dildo along with my hips. For the fuckee, it works. However, as the fucker, I like to feel the action coming directly from my hips. Would you please make a recommendation based on your expert knowledge?

First of all, yeah � the all-in-one strap-ons totally suck. You see them a lot in girl-on-girl (not to be confused with lesbian) porn, and they typically consist of a veiny, �flesh� colored plastic dick attached to an elasticy harness. Yuck. If you�re serious about the whole strap on thing, you�ll be purchasing two separate pieces � a harness and a dildo with a base. You�re probably going to spend between $50 and $80 on the harness, depending on what it�s made of, and the price of dildos varies pretty widely. I definitely recommend investing in a dildo made of silicone, as they are beautiful, have great color and are able to be totally sterilized between partners or just when they get generally yucky. Two fabulous companies that made some of the silicone toys that are nestled in my toy box are Vixen Creations and Tantus. If you want to get a little fancy with a double ended dildo that works in a harness, try the Tantus Feeldoe or the Vixen Creations Nexus dildos.

Most good harnesses are made of leather (comfy), nylon (machine washable) or vinyl (shiny and often sparkly) and have adjustable leg and waist straps. There are basically two configurations: one-strap, where the single strap goes between the wearer�s legs kinda like a thong (blocking access to the wearer�s genitals) and two-strap, where the straps cup the wearer�s ass cheeks and leave the genitals free for play. The single strap will keep the dildo a little more stable, but it�s really a personal preference (my harnesses are both of the two strap variety).

Story Leather has a lot of really great harnesses. The Terra Firma line often have pads on that rest on the pubic bone, but really, when there is vigorous strap on fucking, you�re probably going to have a slightly bruised pubic area afterwards (I usually do). The pad helps, and as unsexy as it might be, you could try folding up a sock or something and tucking it between your body and the harness (Stormy Leather also sells a sexier pad for shock absorption). For maximum fuck action, make sure you tighten the straps of the harness periodically through your session � they�ll loosen without you noticing and loose harness straps will made hardcore fucking more difficult to achieve.

Posted by Dacia at 10:13 PM | Comments (12) | TrackBack

Waking Vixen Reader Poll and I'm Off!

June 13, 2005

Jane and I are taking a lesbian field trip starting tomorrow morning and returning to the city on Thursday. We’re headed to New England to camp, go whale watching and eat lots of seafood dipped in butter. I haven’t been camping in a long time, so I’ll probably light my arm on fire and get lots of mosquito bites. Sexy, I know.

In my absence, I thought I’d put up a reader poll. Way back in December I ask people to write and introduce themselves if they hadn’t had any contact with me. It was cool, and I found out that a lot of real life friends were reading me, plus got to strike up some interesting correspondences. Anyway, I’m doing it again, only this time I have a more precise set of information I want to gather. If you’d like to say anything to me that isn’t in the poll, or tell me the poll sucks or whatever, feel free to email me at dacia@wakingvixen.com.

The poll is HERE.

And the results, as they come in, are HERE.

The one thing that sucks about the poll is that you can only click on one answer per question - if you have more than one answer and aren’t lazy, feel free to zip through the poll again and put in your alternate answers.

Posted by Dacia at 11:55 AM | Comments (13) | TrackBack

Sexual autonomy

June 12, 2005

After the collapse of my two relationships in March, I went through a panicky period of time where I kept thinking to myself that I was doomed: no one would want me and my so-called baggage. I started to believe that I was never going to have sex again outside of Jefferson�s parties and that as soon as I made a complaint like that a million unwanted dudes would step up to the task and I�d feel even more alone and alienated from being desired and just being.

Jane put up with a lot of this self-doubt stuff, and when I�d go on about not being able to bridge the sexual gap between how I�m imagined and how I am, she�d ask me why exactly I was so fixated on having partnered sex. The right and healthy answer for me is �because I like it and its fun,� but during those moments, the truthful answer was more along the lines of �because I need to be wanted and to prove that I can.� Being the overly introspective type, I didn�t go on a sex binge because I really did know that sex is not the best way to fill a void. I knew that a sex binge would just saddle me with more people who�d demand time and energy from me, and I realized that I wanted to have something happening for myself, but I didn�t want to be inconvenienced. Definitely not a good basis for reaching out to others, even just for casual sex.

Since then my panic has subsided significantly, not least because I�m getting thoroughly laid in group and one-on-one situations, and I�m moving solidly into a place where I feel sexually autonomous. Granted, I�m feeling sexually autonomous but also having partnered sex, so I guess this theory could really only be tested out if I were to not be getting laid at all (which may very well happen during my seven weeks in Europe). Basically, over the past few months I�ve reached a place where I know without a doubt that the most important sexual relationship I�ll ever have is with myself.

I like having other people in my sex life, for sure, but sex for me has a life all its own, whether or not there are other people around to experience it. In some ways I feel sort of resigned to this � like I can�t really get my hopes up for other people all that much, after being where I�ve been and doing what I�ve done. But really, its not that I�m disappointed with partnered sex, it�s just that at the end of the day, whatever my relationships look like, I have me to come home to, my body and my desires to live with.

I masturbate daily. Other than simply being an outlet for my outrageous libido, masturbation is a kind of check in time for me. It�s a time when I can just be in and with myself � kind of peaceful, totally awesome. I�m also trying to make a day or evening each week where I not only don�t get naked for money, but I don�t get naked in front of another person � this is actually a little difficult to schedule (I know, my life is hard), but being selfish and being naked for myself alone and not for anyone else is hugely rejuvenating.

Truly, it�s all about balance, but when other people�s balances wobble, I have to be able to make do with what I�ve got. I have to do better than that � I have to maintain and fulfill my own sense of sexual self. I can invite others in to share what I�ve got, but kick them out when they�ve overstayed their welcome.

Posted by Dacia at 11:05 PM | Comments (6) | TrackBack

Ask Audacia Anything 2

June 10, 2005

My boyfriend has a foot fetish and I would like to pleasure him with my feet. I am not sure how to do it properly, I have tried but I can not find a comfortable position to do this in. Do you have any suggestions?

First of all, make sure your feet are nice and soft � you might get a pedicure, or get your boyfriend to learn how to give them. Right before you give him a footjob, wash your feet with warm to hot water � or better yet get him to wash your feet � this will soften them up and make the experience more pleasurable for him. The foot-washing doesn�t have to involve a fancy newfangled foot bath machine, but a little bit of a foot massage in the mix might be nice too.

The two most crucial things in giving a successful footjob are positioning your body so your legs don�t give out on you, and finding a foot-on-cock technique that works for both you and your guy. Both of these will require some experimenting. Just as with a handjob, it�s a good idea to use plenty of lube on both your feet and his cock � this will make things a lot easier. Ok: so you�ve got soft sexy feet, lube and a guy excited about your feet. Now things get tricky.

The first big challenge is what the hell kind of position you need to be in to make this venture successful. Some of this will be determined by whether or not your guy is submissive � if he is he may want you to be above him and doing most of the work. If he isn�t he might get more into fucking your feet. A more active position for him would involve you lying down and him guiding your feet and his cock. One way to do it is for both of you to be lying on your backs, with your feet close to each other. You should put the soles of your feet together lightly, lube them up and then let him hold your feet and slide his cock between them, basically fucking in between your two arches. Visually this one is pretty hot, and your guy will be able to control the kind of stimulation he�s getting, plus he�ll be able to massage your feet as he�s doing it. Another variation of this foot-fucking is for you to lie on your stomach and bend your knees, keeping your feet close together. He can then get on his knees behind you (like doggie style, but with feet) and hold your feet in the right position to maximize his pleasure. Both of these positions are pretty low impact on you � they will give him the foot experience but won�t stress you out terribly about the finer points of technique and toe manipulation.

If he is submissive, or if you want to control most of what�s going on, you can try a different position that will be a lot more work for you, but could be lots of fun and good practice on the toe dexterity front. You should have him lie or sit on the floor in front of you as you sit in a chair or stool above him. I find that a medium height stool works best � if you�re sitting in a chair that would allow you to put your feet flat on the floor, doing the footjob won�t work too well because you�ll kind of have to hold your legs up in an awkward and muscle taxing way. So � get a medium stool, or experiment with sitting on some phone books to get the right height. One you�ve got the right height and leverage � here comes the tricky part.

Unless you are totally awesome, your toes probably aren�t as dexterous as your fingers, so though feet and hands are in the same family, they aren�t capable of the same things unless your toes get a lot of practice. A good move to start with is to get his penis in a position so that it�s pointing towards his bellybutton and slowly rub your toes and ball of your foot up from his balls towards the tip of his cock. A variation on this simple stroke is � if possible with the anatomy of your feet and the shape of his cock � slip his cock between your big toe and your pointer toe and stroke him that way. This is a pretty simple way to touch his cock with your feet that will probably feel pretty good to him. Vary the stroking with wiggling your toes on his frenum, the loose flap of skin on the underside of the penis where the glans meets the shaft and is connected to the foreskin (if there is one). Though of course this isn�t applicable to ALL foot fetishists, if your guy is like many foot fetishists, he�ll be in heaven with the combination of you using the sole of your foot and wiggling your toes. You might try using your other foot to lightly press down on his balls.

Another thing you can try is while letting his erection stand up, use the big toe/pointer toe to grasp the bas of his cock while teasing his foot with the arch of your other foot. You can also try to use both feet to stroke his cock downwards � this is more of a free form kind of stroke, so just try to concentrate on his reactions and see what he likes best.

Last but certainly not least, you should ask your boyfriend how he�d like to be touched, what parts of your feet he finds the most sexy, etc. This conversation will serve to inform you better about his fetish and what he likes and could also serve as some good dirty talk if you play your cards right.

Sex is wonderful, but what kind of touch or activities do you find the most intimate? What things bring you comfort and security?

Though I wouldn�t say that sex is less intimate than non-sexual or sensual but not genital touching, there are ways other than sex for me to feel close to someone. I do have moments of intimacy with people I�m not necessarily intimate with on a grand scale, and I enjoy them greatly � to me intimacy is about opening up and dropping my guard a bit, trusting someone with a thought or a feeling that I could�ve kept to myself, or creating a space where another person feels comfortable to do the same. With this definition, I will say that many of my sessions as a professional sex worker are highly intimate in a really intense and powerful way. For me, intimacy lies primarily in honest, open communication.

There are different levels and kinds of intimacy, and my ability/desire to have intimacy isn�t confined to an exchange with one person. At this moment in my life, the most comfort and security that I get is really from lying in bed with Jane, eating chocolate cake and/or cheeseburgers, watching movies, and being naked in a very platonic way.

But the question mentions touch, so� I�m not a hugely touchy feely person. I like to have my personal space. That said, I�ve begun to appreciate touch more recently � I really like having my hair touched and played with. I also like having my back lightly scratched, and kisses on the back of the neck make me squirm and giggle. And sharing a bed with someone for sleeping � that�s some intimacy right there for ya. But I ain�t no damn hippy!

Posted by Dacia at 08:22 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Hands on

June 08, 2005

Jefferson�s party last night was a small one, full of people I know (some in the biblical sense) from prior parties. It was Jeremy�s second Jefferson party, and he was interested to see what it would be like to start to move into the territory of the regulars. We sat in the living room, chatting like civilized people as the guests arrived. Theresa and I noted that we were way outnumbered by guys, and were a little crestfallen when Farahnaz came in to tip the gender balance a bit � but we weren�t that disappointed because she�s ridiculously hot.

After a while, I stood up and said, �Well, I�m tired of having clothes on.� Although usually the undressing happens in one of the bedrooms, I decided that since I was amongst friends and regulars, I�d get nekkid in the living room and leave my clothes conveniently by my other belongings so as to avoid the late night question of �what happened to my pants?�

I was out of my clothes superfast, which inspired Todd and Jeremy to shed their clothes as well. Todd pulled out his bag of tricks � many small bags within a big one, each filled with porn, cock rings, lube, all kinds of good stuff. He set to the task of showing us his choices of cock rings and we discussed the differences between them all as he put one on. He got a little wrapped up in conversation with Farahnaz, who�d also shed her clothes, and I got impatient so I took Jeremy back into one of the bedrooms, yelling as I went, �Todd, you know where to find me!� After a few minutes in the bedroom alone with Jeremy (never a bad thing), I could still hear Todd talking in the living room, so I yelled extra loud, �Stop talking, get in here and get naked!� This time he obliged.

No sooner had I blinked a few times than there were three dudes in the room with me. Jeremy to my left with his cock glistening with pre-come, Todd to my right with his balls bulging from the makeshift ball separator he�d fashioned, and Mark right in front of me peeling his pants down to reveal a loner cock ring he�d gotten from Todd. All that cock just had a hyponotic effect on me: Must� submit� to� glorious� power� of� cock.

In less than half no time, I was down on my knees, eye-level with three cocks. I think perhaps three cocks are the perfect number for me � one to suck and two to give handjobs to. It could be argued that I�m better off with only two cocks, as I do like to grasp the base of a cock for the full effect when I�m sucking on it, but really we�re talking details here. The sad thing about three cocks is that because they�re attached to three bodies, its pretty difficult to get all three in or even near my mouth all at once, which is generally something I can manage with only two cocks. (�only two cocks� � that�s a quote to send home to mom). Suffice to say that in this situation, more cocks was better. I tried to give adequate attention to each cock I was presented with, which gauging by the reactions of their owners I was pretty successful at.

There�s just something amazingly and delightfully filthy about being on my knees, rigorously servicing three cocks, feeling the ache of the enemy-of-knees floor covering digging into me and not caring, drooling on myself in Pavlovian delight. But for me, servicing three cocks could only be fun with guys like Jeremy, Todd and Mark, each of whom moaned appreciatively, stroked my hair and gently touched my face as I slobbered all over their cocks. There was certainly no porny face-fucking or gag reflex triggering, just a sweet sweet triple blow job (maybe that needs one more sweet). Filthy and sweet is where it�s at.

It would have probably taken a while for me to get three guys to the finish line with my mouth and hands only, so other mouths and hands started wandering and getting involved. I turned my attention to Jeremy while Todd and Mark turned to each other. I�ve been very impressed that Jeremy, as a straight guy who hasn�t been around so much live group action before, is as comfortable around boy-on-boy action as he is. That�s some pretty awesome stuff. He dove in between my legs and after settling into a good rhythm with his fingers inside me, coaxed me into a quivering orgasm. When he removed his fingers, a string of viscous come connected his hand to my cunt. He beamed at it proudly and said, �Uh, what should I do with this? That�s about as much come as I make.� I told him to go wash his hand off, as it was way too much to politely wipe on the sheets. He hesitated, �I kinda want to keep it.�

We set to fucking on the bed just as Theresa came into the room and Todd and Mark slapped some cuffs on her wrists and began to torture her nipples a bit. Her ecstatic moans from the nipple stimulation alone were distracting � not in that bad way, mind you. Jeremy and I took a break to watch Todd apply more pressure to the girl�s nipples as Mark rolled a condom onto his cock and prepared to fuck the living daylights out of her.

After a quick water break, Jeremy and I wandered into the other bedroom, to find Jefferson fucking Farahnaz hard and steady, with Todd holding her legs back and her mouth occupied by someone else�s cock. Jeremy and I eased ourselves on the taco futon of death across the room and settled in to watch.

�I just have to say it � Farahnaz, the light on your face is just gorgeous right now,� I interjected. A candle shone through a bottle of water, casting a sexy glow on her face. On further inspection, I realized that most of the glow was hers.

�We should film this stuff � you know, for the memories,� Farahnaz said as she disengaged from the tangle of bodies. Todd and I shared a good-porn hungry look.

As the bodies fell away from each other, I noticed that the cock Farahnaz had been sucking on belonged to Donny. I admitted out loud that I hadn�t thought to notice who the cock was attached to, as I�d been too busy watching Farahnaz. �When did you get here and put your cock in her mouth?� I asked Donny.

�I said hello to you a while ago � I even grabbed your boob,� he laughed.

�Really? Where was I?� I asked, seriously not remembering seeing him come in.

�You were getting fucked to the moon, so you weren�t really there,� Todd told me, in a �you silly rabbit� kind of voice.

Jeremy squeezed my leg and said, �I feel like I�m a hanger-on. Don�t let me hold you back.� Looking at him, I could tell he meant it, but I�m still not totally sure what to do with all this, so I�ve been treading lightly. He got up to check out the rest of the party and give me some space.

As the room cleared, I beckoned Todd closer to the taco futon of death. He cautiously slid up the furniture towards me, caressing my body as he came closer. He slipped his hands and lips in between my legs and began to give me a masterful handjob. He teased my g-spot mercilessly until I couldn�t feel my extremities, and felt only the warmth and wetness of my cunt, my lips opening to him, everything inside ballooning as come gushed out of me. Jeremy reappeared to appreciate my string of screaming orgasms, as I panted at Todd, �What the fuck are you doing to me? Ohhh� please don�t stop!� Jeremy laughed appreciatively and said to Todd, �Shit, I should be taking notes.� Todd moved out of the light and showed Jeremy the way that he was touching me, with a bit of guidance to the glories of my g-spot. I like being this kind of science experiment.

I lay quivering on the bed and Todd leaned over to kiss me and ask, �Would you like your man to fuck you?� It was all I could do to nod yes. Todd went to wash up and find other sex partners and Jeremy asked if I�d like to get off of the taco futon of death. I told him that while I knew that would be a good idea, in reality I�d probably fall over if I tried to stand up, so no. He was still concerned about the stability of the bed, so I told him, �I like living dangerously, so bring it on.� We fucked slowly at first and then picked up the tempo.

As we fucked, the futon folded in on us, making a fuck taco. I started laughing so hard that it made my cunt muscles contract and sent me into an orgasm. We tried to set the futon right again but it didn�t work so well, so we just kept going, living dangerous in the middle of a fuck taco.

Posted by Dacia at 08:11 PM | Comments (6)

Sustainable development

June 06, 2005

This weekend I fell back in love with my life. I�m feeling more completely myself than I have in months and months, and on Saturday I smiled so much that my face hurt. Before the awesomeness of late night fucking, with moans and floggings that were reportedly heard from the street, there was so much else that flooded in, reminding me of the potential for awesomeness my life holds. And this potential I�m referring to isn�t just about the possibilities for getting laid six ways to Sunday � though that�s no small part of it.

I don�t want to hold my breath, I don�t want to cut this feeling/these days in stone, I don�t want to pause and burn this all into my brain, because that all assumes that it can�t last, that I can�t make it through to a lovely place. I know that I cannot get back the life I had a few months ago, the people who were near and dear � I have to go forward. But the question is � how do I sustain the life I want in the physical, intellectual and emotional senses? Okay, okay � I know that is THE question for everyone.

Here in my little corner of the universe, I�m wondering how I can sustain what many people see as a phase (tonight I joked with James that I�m in my slut phase � which has lasted going on three years) in a healthy way. I think I�m well on my way to normalizing what to many folks seems like a totally radical way to live. Perhaps it doesn�t seem normal to people on the outside looking in, but I�m trying to manage my life in such a way so that I grant myself the freedom to enjoy, but also contain my life in such a way that I can keep my psyche happy at work and at home as well as keep them mixing in a way that doesn�t make me insane.

In the ten months since I started this blog, something has happened to me. When I began the blog, I set out to write about the division between my lives in Pervland and the Straight World. Last year, I had made the decision to pursue two different vocations and keep one foot in each of two worlds. I�m not sure that the line I drew for myself to straddle (not as hot as it sounds) really exists anymore. Though I embarked on my grad program planning to steer clear of sex, I�m at a point where I�m realizing that full-throttle examination of sexualities is inevitable. Sexuality is important to me whether my pants are on in a library or off in someone�s bedroom (certainly, pants off in the library is good too). This summer, after steadfastly avoiding sex in academia for a few years, I�m setting out to discover what academia plus sex looks like for me, after going where I�ve gone.

On the day that I celebrate my one year blogoversary, I�ll be in Amsterdam, finishing up the last day of the Summer Institute in Sexuality, Culture and Society at the University of Amsterdam. In completing the application for the institute, for the first time in an academic context, I declared my status as a sex worker and signed my legal name to it. I�m looking forward to introducing myself to the other participants with all three names I go by, and I�m proud to be funding the trip by getting naked for money. I expect this summer to be intellectually cathartic to say the least � and hopefully I�ll have a damn lot of fun in the process.

Posted by Dacia at 11:42 PM | Comments (7) | TrackBack

After party

June 05, 2005

Before you read this entry, you should make your way over to the Educated Slut and read Jane�s entry about our adventures with a cute and willing houseboy, who scrubbed her bathroom and mopped the kitchen (after coming on the floor, at our request) a few nights ago.

Okay, now you can wipe up your� uh, drool, and you�ve got yourself some backstory.

Last night was Jane�s grandiose party, a celebration of surviving New York, graduating college, and moving on and out to grad school. It brought together many of the people she�s cared about over the past five years � I�m sure she�ll tell you more about it over on her blog. Although I have plenty of thoughts about the party itself and the feelings it evoked in me � I�m not going to tell you about the party, its fabulous attendees nor scintillating conversations about kangaroo cock.

I�m going to tell you about what happened after the official party.

As the evening grew later, people continued to trickle into the party, while others (like Jane�s family) trickled out. All night we�d been telling people who should be in the know (aka not grandma) that they had to play �find the houseboy,� as he�d be in attendance, but his identity had to be guessed. I was lounging on Jane�s bed with Jeremy, chatting with some of the other guests when Moira, a friend of mine and Jane�s who we met at a bisexual speed dating event two years ago, struck up a conversation with a solo guy in attendance, �So, how long have you known Jane?� He blushed a little and said, �Well, a few nights ago�� He didn�t even need to finish his sentence. Moira gleefully clapped her hands and declared, �It�s Steve! I found Steve the houseboy!�

After a while it became evident that the party was really happening on the roof, so Jeremy and I sucked up our fears of the rickety ladder and clamored up there, ladies first so he could break my fall should there be an accident, or rather, appreciate the upskirt view of my ass in a rare moment of thong-wearing. On the roof, we could enjoy the stars, the sounds of the elevated train going by, the rivulets of spilled beer edging down the slope in the roof, and the company of our fine friends Jane, Moira, and Steve. We joked for a while about getting naked on the roof, and I hassled Jane to take off her dress (because at heart I am a dirty old man), until she decided she had to go to the bathroom (dress intact), so she climbed down the ladder and we four remained. We four couldn�t keep our hands to ourselves very well, and suddenly the conversations ended and the only sounds were those of kissing, soft moans, and clothing coming undone. When Jane came back onto the roof, Jeremy had partly unbuttoned my dress and had his hand down my underwear, while both Moira and Steve had wriggled part way out of their pants. Jane�s reappearance made us all burst into laughter. She pouted that we�d gotten started without her, but we all encouraged her to join us.

She resisted, saying that there were still people downstairs in her apartment, people who we didn�t necessarily want to get naked with, but who might come up on the roof at any moment. She peeked over the edge of the roof to see several of the partygoers out on the stoop, �Pssst. Hey. Pssst,� she called over the edge to them. And when they looked up, �There�s debauchery happening up here. Don�t let anyone come up. Tell us when you�re going back inside!� We coaxed Jane away from the edge of the roof, and she again expressed her concern at abandoning her clothed guests for the likes of us.

�Well, any way you cut it, I have a strong desire to be naked on this roof and looking at the Manhattan skyline, so�� I unbuttoned my dress fully, shed my bra, and wiggled out of my panties so that I could feel the warm touch of the night air on my skin and feel that lovely feeling of being naked on a city rooftop. Jane, Jeremy, Moira and Steve made short shrift of shedding their clothes, and our bodies all collided into a mass of giggling, groping, horny flesh.

�I�m touching your boyfriend�s cock,� Jane stage-whispered to me.

�I�m tired of standing up,� Moira breathed as her knees buckled from the joys of many hands caressing her.

The trouble was that with people lounging about downstairs who we didn�t think would be a good mix in the ole sex pot, we had to figure out a place to be. Fucking on the roof sounded hot but in reality would involve lots of rolling around in spilt beer, roof burn (rug burn�s vicious cousin) and getting covered in tar from the rooftop. Plus, although Jeremy had condoms with him, someone would have to go downstairs for other necessary items like lube and baby wipes. The kissing ended and discussion of what to do came up again as Jane and Moira tried to figure out what the best plan of action was.

�While you figure that out, I�m going to take this moment to enjoy the cocks of these two fine gentlemen,� I announced as I ran my fingers over two cocks dripping with pre-come. That lit a bit of fire under their asses, and Jane decided to venture downstairs and tell her remaining guests that (big yawn and stretch) she was tired and wanted to go to bed. Everyone put their clothes back on (only briefly, never fear!) and we slowly and unerotically worked our ways down the ladder and into Jane�s room. Being the first one in the room, I pulled sex toys and condoms out of their hiding places, where Jane had stashed them to avoid discovery by the wrong party goers. When everyone got into the room clothes came off really quickly. I asked Jane what her limits were, as she�s still in recovery from her IUD insertion, and she decided that there would be no boy penises in her cunt. She quickly established herself as the resident hair puller and maker of encouraging remarks.

We all sort of fell onto the bed, Jeremy with his face between my legs, Moira on her back next to me with Steve�s hands between her legs, and Jane behind Steve, administering a loving flogging with one of her toys. Since we�d already spent a good amount of time on foreplay while up on the roof, we dove pretty quickly into the fucking. I arched my back and lifted my pelvis up to meet Jeremy�s cock. Jane twisted her hand into my hair at the front of my head and began to pull. My scalp tingled, and I relocated her hand to the back of my head, to the place where hair subsides and neck begins � my favorite hair pulling location. Jane started a steady pull, almost immobilizing my head. That, combined with Jeremy�s earnest and thoroughly fucking, pushed me over the edge really quickly, and I had a shuddering, thigh-clapping, tear-welling orgasm, twisting my head into Jane�s lap, twitching madly. Orgasms are for awesome.

As the waves of my orgasm subsided a little, we were distracted by the solid fucking Steve was giving Moira right next to me. �Look at me,� Jane demanded of Moira as Steve thrust his cock deep into Moira from behind. Moira seemed like she was having trouble concentrating on anything other than the fucking, but Jane wasn�t letting her off the hook. I wrapped my hand into Moira�s hair and held her head back so she could look Jane in the eyes more easily. Jane launched into some dirty talk, telling Moira what a ferocious little slut she is, directing her to take Steve�s cock like the dirty girl she is. All the while, I was multitasking � keeping Moira�s head pulled up for Jane, occasionally getting a mouthful of her ample boobs and keeping my legs spread to receive more fucking from Jeremy. Moira was getting lots of rough and tumble attention from all angles, and she came hard in a flurry of group effort.

As she relaxed into a post-orgasmic bliss, my attention turned to getting Jeremy off. I wanted him to straddle me and come on my tits, and at first he protested: �I�m telling you, I haven�t come since last Sunday. It�s going to be a lot of come.� Greedy bitch that I am, I wanted his come on me � even (especially!) if it was going to be a big mess. I peeled the condom off and asked for some lube (group sex is awesome if only so there are other people around to find the lube and condoms) and set to work on him with my hands. I felt his cock stiffen to almost an impossible degree, and he began to shake above me. With a loud groan and a shudder, his cock pumped a giant mass of come (he wasn’t kidding) all over me, and he just kept coming, one spurt after another.

I was a little sad to see Jeremy mop me down with baby wipes, erasing the awesome Jackson Pollockesque cum splatters all over my belly, tits and neck. Though clearly impractical, I kinda wanted to wear his come like a badge of honor.

After a little bit of regrouping, it was time to pass the orgasm torch to Jane and Steve, who hadn�t come yet. While I�d been going at Jeremy, Jane had set herself up in a low armchair right next to the bed with her Hitachi and a butt plug, so she was well on her way into orbit. Moira lay on her back below Steve as he masturbated, complaining that he was going to have trouble coming, having been inspired to jerk off 87 million times (a precise figure, I am told) by reading Jane�s blog. I offered to help him out a bit as Jeremy turned his attentions to Moira�s lovely boobs. The four of us intertwined as Jane brought herself to a string of squirtastic orgasms, soaking her chair and putting on quite the display of female ejaculation for all of us. This put Steve right on the edge, and I massaged his balls and bit his tongue to help him along. As he announced that he was about to come, I cupped my hand over Moira�s pussy to protect her from wily boy juices. His come rained down on my hand and all over Moira�s belly. Another round of baby wipes and we were all only a little bit worse for the wear.

Sated, sticky and laughing, we all flopped down on Jane�s bed.

Posted by Dacia at 11:43 PM | Comments (7) | TrackBack

Ask Audacia Anything #1

June 03, 2005

How do you view your relationship to your readers? Is there a relationship, or do you view your writing as a solitary endeavor?

This is a great question to start off with; since I�m interested in reader participation, I must be interested in my readers, right-o? My relationship with my readers has become increasingly complicated since I started blogging and went from writing for a world of unknowns into the now. These days when I write I know I�m being read by a number of my real life friends, friends I�ve met since I�ve started the blog, folks online that I correspond with on a fairly regular basis, and people who may cast or hire me to do as yet unrevealed things. As a result of this, my relationship with my readers has changed a lot over the ten months I�ve been blogging. Initially, I felt like I was very much writing into the void, sometimes with a confessional-style, just writing my self out and seeing what kind of responses came back at me. Lately I�ve been less interested in emotional exhibitionism, so I�ve been tailoring my posts in a different way, to reach a variety of readers. I don�t write to one kind of reader � this is evidenced in the variety of things I write about, and I�m certain that not every post interests every reader.

I�ve found it really interesting that I�ve connected with readers very much like me and very different than me via the blog. Though of course I�m happy to find other people who are somewhat like me, I think the greatest personal value of this blog has been corresponding from people who are very different than me, people who I wouldn�t meet otherwise. I think that more than many other forms of writing, blogs are meant to create a relationship between blogger and reader � after all, you�re reading along as I experience my life and process my feelings about it, so the connection in some ways is much stronger than if I were to write a book about this time in my life another 20 years down the road. Point being � I love my readers, and even though often I suck at following up on email correspondence, I read and cherish most of the emails I get. I even love the hate mail.

Do you ever have days where you just lounge around in sweatpants with your hair mussed watching The Breakfast Club on DVD and eating cheetos or something of a similar nature?

I read this question out loud to Jane while we were sitting in her bed watching Wayne�s World and eating chocolate cupcakes, so the answer is a big fat yes. One time Jane and I were in bed watching movies (naked of course) and eating cookies and I got cookie crumbs in my belly button, but I didn�t notice for a while. Embarrassing right?

Though of course I try to write about the more thrilling and blogtastic parts of my life, there is plenty of downtime. Seriously, except for all the sex stuff, my life is really not that exciting. In general, I would take an evening spent in my pajamas, eating cake and watching movies with Jane or other friends over many other activities (and sometimes that even takes precedence over the crazy sex). I probably spend more time being lazy and goofy than I do being sexy, I just don�t write all about it.

My question - seems like at the sex parties anything really goes. Did [Jeremy] get freaked out when he [saw] the guys touching each other - Does this really turn women on?

Oh, right, back to the sex. At Jefferson�s parties, anything goes in terms of partner combinations because most of the people who go to the parties are bisexual. However, it�s not like you�re thrown to the wolves as soon as you walk in the door. Jeremy knew that most of the other guys at the party were bisexual before he went to the party (mostly because of Jefferson�s extensive efforts to convince him that a mouth is a mouth no matter who it belongs to). Jeremy is comfortable with his sexuality, and once he was assured that he wasn�t going to get grabbed by dudes, he wasn�t at all uncomfortable with seeing guys interact sexually. I can�t speak for the entire female population as to whether or not seeing two guys together turns the ladies on � sexual tastes are very individual � but I can say with certainly that it puts my personal panties in a twist.

One item of interest is your opinion and/or experiences with swing clubs versus the types of parties you have written about. There is a club [in a southern city] that I frequent, but it is certainly geared toward couples (as I assume most are). That’s ok unless you are single male (and wanting to get in on the action!) Are there clubs that are more open to group activity or is the couple inviting the single male more of the norm?

In my experience, most clubs are very much couple oriented, and if by group action you mean the opportunity for a single guy to enter the fray, you�re probably shit out of luck. Most swing clubs have lots of rules for single guys � if they let single guys in at all. This definitely sucks for the nice, respectful single guys who are interested in group sex, but you have to understand that there are plenty of very pushy single guys who make women feel uncomfortable. Your best bet is probably to try hosting your own parties � though there is a lot of leg work, screening and hoping that personalities will combine in a good way and people will have chemistry, it might be worth it. Chances are very good that as in most sex party situations it will be a challenge to reach a gender balance � you�ll always have a bajillion willing single guys at your disposure and many fewer coupled and single women.

As a single a guy in a swing club situation, you�ll have a tough time, but if you�re very nice and polite and give people their space, then you should fare well. I guess ideally you�re supposed to wait for folks to approach you, but if that gets frustrating, you might try approaching couples. When you do approach a couple, be sure to address both people � if you just approach the woman, her date might get protective and if you just approach the man, his date might feel like she�s on a auctioning block. You could ask if the couple would like company as part of your approach (cheesy, I know, but sometimes helpful). If you hit it off well and would like to play with them, tell them so and then say that you�ll give them some time to discuss between the two of them and tell them you�ll be at the bar (or whatever) if they�d like to play.

Okay, maybe that was getting sidetracked a little, but the point is that there is a way to be tactful and not creepy as a single guy. As far as the type of clubs goes, from what I�ve seen and heard, the vast majority of clubs are focused on couples and swapping, though of course each night is different. If you feel comfortable, keep going to the parties, but perhaps not with the goal of getting laid in the here and now. Work on meeting likeminded people and then do a party to your own liking, or try to connect with and play with couples outside of the swing clubs.

I�m greatly amused by featuring a range of the questions that came in, and I�m happy to entertain more questions for next week, though I already have quite the backlog. So � keep �em coming, it just might take me a while to get to your question.

Posted by Dacia at 08:06 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

We must bleed

June 01, 2005

Oh look, its a quarterly post about my period. For those who haven’t been around a full quarter - I’ve just passed my one year anniversary of using Seasonale, a continuous birth control pill with a break every three months. I wrote a post about my thoughts on Seasonale here. And last time I bled, back in February, I took pictures.

This time, I’m going to talk about blood receptacles! Whee!

Until fairly recently, I always used pads, which Jane pointed out was totally insane. I got my period for the first time the spring I turned 11, and as summer approached my mother tried to coax me into using tampons so that I’d be able to swim with the fishes happily. Tampons made me cry. I didn’t like them and couldn’t make them work, so I steered cleared until I was 23. I’m not entirely sure why I went all those years without a second try at the tampons, but I just wasn’t into it. I didn’t like the idea of my vagina being plugged up, stuffed with cotton, and I was also mildly terrified of the horrors of pelvic inflammatory disease, so I stuck with pads for all those years.

When Jane talked me into giving the whole tampon thing another go, I was wary, but game. I still didn’t like the buggers that much, because I just didn’t like the way that they soaked up all of my vaginal juices. I like my vagina moist, thankyouverymuch, and though pads have their drawbacks I like that they don’t fuck with my insides at all.

During my last period I tried one of Jane’s Instead cups and I wasn’t thrilled. I have something of a prominent g-spot, so it took some twisting of my arm to get the cup in the proper position. It’s supposed to sit in the same place as a diaphragm (though it’s not helpful as birth control like a diaphragm), sealed around the cervix. In the how-to insertion drawings, the varying terrain of a vagina isn’t really accounted for. Neither is the challenge of removing it. The first time I wore an Instead cup, I had to practically pry it out of my vagina. I just couldn’t seem to get it out from behind my g-spot, and when I finally did, after much huffing and puffing, I spilled my cup o’ blood all over myself and my bathroom floor (later I acutally found some splattered on the mirror as well). Ah, my glamorous lifestyle. I had a good hard laugh at my own expense as I cleaned up my blood.

Since I don’t bleed very often, I haven’t gotten much practice with these damn cups. This time around, I got more determined to make the cup work for me, especially because there was the posibility of having the sex in public and I didn’t feel like making a bloody mess. This time has worked out much better, and I love the fact that the cups allow my vagina to be naturally moist while still catching all that pesky blood. I’ve learned that insertion is just a matter of getting used to it - someone more adept at using tampons or a diaphragm would have no problem, I’m sure. Getting the damn thing out has still been a wee bit of a challenge, but I haven’t made a huge bloody mess again, which is always a plus. This morning I discovered that if I rubbed my g-spot a bit and then bore down with my muscles, it was easier to hook a finger into the cup and pull it out. The cup makes a slight popping noise when you remove it - its the sound of the suction around my cervix being broken. This sound makes me giggle, but that’s probably just because I have the sense of humor of an 8 year old. Noisy bodily functions are hilarious.

Posted by Dacia at 08:19 PM | Comments (11) | TrackBack