I write a monthly-ish sex advice column for Luna Luna, as well as the occasional op-ed and interview, and I sometimes curate and edit others’ work for them, as well. Luna Luna is unfortunately, at the moment, a non-paying market, but it’s a fantastic community of creative, talented, intelligent, loving, supportive people that I enjoy being a part of. Also sexy. They’re very sexy.
Watch the video at this link.
I won’t post it here. So watch it over there. It’s mostly SFW.
Ok, now, sit there for a few minutes and let your brain try to grapple with what you just saw and heard.
First, let’s get past the “blowjob machine” thing. Yes, those are things. They exist. Oral sex simulators have been around for a while, in formats ranging from the simple masturbation sleeve to high-powered, motorized, vibrating, interactive robotic jerk-off devices. They’re quite popular, and I think they’re grand because people with penises deserve as much variety in their sex toys as people without penises. Hooray for orgasms! Three cheers for sex toys! Huzzah! continue →
I basically spent all of 2014 writing poems about Audrey, immersing myself in her story, the art in which she still lives, daydreams about her life and the world in which she lived, noting the ways in which my world is still hers, marveling over how she helped to build them both. (Don’t know about her? Here’s some more info. Read it all because it is important and tragic and wonderful.)
These two poems just published are, as a result of sort-of living in Audrey’s skin for a year, very personal. I am thrilled that they’re out in the world, alongside gorgeous, creepy, fecund, candle-lit, wonderful works by Matthew J. Hall, Jennifer Hanks, and Ellie White. I am also quaking in my boots. Showing these poems to people feels somewhat akin to showing up naked to a reading… although probably naked with my best shoes on… and maybe a really badass necklace.
Anyway. Please go read them! And… be gentle?
Ever have that “It’s Friday and I just got paid and I want to donate to some worthy causes” feeling? I bet you do. Based upon your internet reading habits, you are clearly a person of discerning taste, intelligence, and all-around classiness, so I’m willing to bet you are a generous and loving soul, to boot.
There are a few causes dear to my heart that I’d like to share with you, to aid you in lightening your purse (all that cash weighs you down in this oppressive summer heat, amirite?) and easing your conscience! All are worth your dollars, and each is worth a social-media boost, at least! continue →
A new installment of my “Luna Luna Love + Lust” column has arrived!
This time I talk to two letter writers who are trying to get back in touch with their sensual sides, one of whom “loses interest” in dirty deeds, and another who, after a lifetime of sexual violence, manipulation, fear, and shame, has rediscovered her wild side through erotic literature and has a volley of questions about squirting, gay porn, and how much masturbation is too much. continue →
I donated to Shine Louise Houston’s IndieGoGo campaign to fund her first-ever independent feature film (with hot queer sex in it, obvs) “Snapshot,” and CHECK THIS OUT!
I am now indisputably the coolest person you know. That’s the Crash Pad slate. Holy sexy moly.
Other perks? If you donate $20, Jiz Lee will write your name on their belly and take a photo. YES YOU WANT YOUR NAME ON THOSE ABS. I’m considering donating $20 more dollars just to get that.
Anyway, I’m cool. Go donate.
(PS – No, there’s no “d” in my name. But she got the “y”s right, and most people don’t get that far. I’ll take it!)
And on top of that, I just published an op-ed at Luna Luna on why I think (well, I hope) it’s worthwile to keep watching Game of Thrones, even if you’re upset over the Sansa Stark thing. I’m upset, too.
“Personally, I’m happy that we are at a point now at which, when a TV series shows rape, we are upset enough to get angry and to yell about it. That’s a good thing. It’s progress. But demanding that rape be struck from the landscape when it upsets us in art doesn’t seem like a good way to go about making a real change. Giving people who have experienced it—and, yes, fictional characters, too—a chance to tell their stories and repair their lives is.”
Read the rest here, if you please!
I won’t be coy. Tina Horn is a big-time favorite of mine. When I interviewed her a few months ago for my column at Nerve, she told me that she was working on a book in which she was profiling people she had known and loved during her time as a pro BDSM worker and porn-maker. This idea made me very excited indeed, given that everything I’ve read by her has knocked me on my ass. She has a poise in her demeanor that comes across in her writing, mixed up with the same amount of grit one catches in her low, sexy voice.
And when she told me that the book’s title would be “Love Not Given Lightly” (you know, like that line in “Venus in Furs”?), I think my exact words were, “Oh my god I love you.”
I just got back from a fairly off-the-grid vacation, and I’ve got a lot of catching up to do on multiple projects! So, while I’m bursting at the seams to talk about a bunch of things (so many things! oh my gosh people! so much exciting change happening!) in depth, I’m going to give you all a bunch of links to peruse instead! We’ll get to the good stuff later. I promise!
Below, find out all about a feminist pornographer’s philosophies, get some hot visuals, learn about the clitoris, watch some videos about consent and food-sex-education, help Shine Louise Houston make a film, develop deeper respect for BuzzFeed, enjoy Cindy Gallop’s audacity, attend Madison Young’s upcoming art event, and marvel at my journalistic butt-kicking! continue →
Just in time for me to go on vacation (thank god), my latest piece for Luna Luna surfaces! I originally called it “A Breakup Letter to New York,” and leaving for the next week and a half sure feels like a long overdue farewell.
“I do not go out. There is too much to do, too many hours of treading water to keep my mouth–open and gasping–just above the water line that keeps rising. I hide myself away to keep kicking, and I cannot take one more elbow in my back, glare from a stranger across the subway, catcall from the watchers on the sidewalk. If I do not drown I will burst, not into flames but shards of unglazed crockery. Rubbed down to dullness. Alarmingly hollow.”
Maybe when I get back in late May I’ll feel differently, but in my experience the heat of the New York summer just makes me sick. Here’s to hoping, though! See you all in a few weeks! In the meantime, read the rest of the letter here.
Directed by Morgana Muses
Featuring Morgana, Serendipity, Sebastian Steele, Evie Crabapple, Mr. Crabapple, Magnolia, Calliope Jones, Artemesia, Liandra Dahl
In my adventures as a porn critic, I’ve spoken to many people who express similar frustrations with pornography. “It’s not that I have anything against porn,” they say. “It’s just that it all looks the same to me.” “It’s boring.” “I can’t find what I want to see.” Every time I hear one of these complaints, I try to offer alternatives in the hopes that I can help them find what they’re looking for. Porn isn’t all the same, I tell them, even though most of what you see on PornHub looks pretty similar. There are a lot of options out there that are really different. But “different” doesn’t always mean “better,” and sometimes I get the feeling that the people I’ve talked to walk away thinking I’m sending them into a tailspin of clown porn or foot fetishes (not that there’s anything wrong with either of those two proclivities, mind you–it’s just that the majority of people I’ve talked to aren’t looking for those things).
Enter Morgana Muses. At the age of fifty, Morgana decided to say goodbye to her life as a “good,” dutiful, socially acceptable (read: chaste and subordinate) wife and mother, and to embrace her erotic side. She began making films with a vignette called “Duty Bound” in which she filmed herself in a variety of extremely hot activities, while she narrated her fantasies about what she’d like to do with an escort. And BAM. A new feminist filmmaker and star was born. Morgana and her work have since been welcomed all over the world by film and porn and sex-positive and age-positive and body-positive and feminist communities, and… like… all the other communities, too. Her work has been nominated for, and won, numerous awards around the world at a variety of film festivals, and she was just named 2015’s Heartthrob of the Year by the Feminist Porn Awards.
I met Morgana at Cinekink here in New York in late February, where her gorgeous short (non-pornographic, btw) short film “It’s My Birthday and I’ll Fly If I Want To” was screening. (It won best documentary short at Cinekink, just FYI.) Instantly deciding we had to be best friends, we shared a hookah and some champagne cocktails, followed by a late-night, very intimate art-making session with friend and aspiring filmmaker Traci Traci, and I left with a copy of Morgana’s company Permission4Pleasure’s box set of her first four films.
And, last night, I popped in the DVD and decided to try “New Tricks,” the third film on the DVD (which is beautiful, by the way, featuring Morgana’s tattoo design of a phoenix). I was a bit nervous–one never knows going into a new erotic film whether it’ll do it for them or not.
And I’ll tell you the truth: this film wasn’t precisely my personal cup of tea, as far as turn-ons go. But–and this is a big “but”–it did ring all the bells in my “THANK GOD THIS EXISTS” belfry. I absolutely recommend it to those people I mentioned above who say all porn looks the same. Especially if the reason a lot of porn doesn’t do it for you is that it feels fake. Or inauthentic. Or male-gaze-y. Or repetitive. Or overproduced. Or over-performed.
“New Tricks” felt very un-porny, but very sexy, in a super-specific way. Featuring four vignettes introduced by female performers in their “socially acceptable” roles as wives, mothers, businesspeople, juxtaposed with sex scenes in which they let loose, the sex in the movie felt very REAL. That can be good or bad, depending on what you’re looking for, I suppose, but there is something uniquely refreshing about the way that “New Tricks” portrayed real, honest-to-god sex that I’ve never witnessed before. It was honest, while still being beautiful. Raw, but in a pared-down, let-it-be kind of way that made me feel relaxed instead of on-edge. I appreciated the reality it was willing to show–namely that sex isn’t always the wild, keening, athletic, rowdy affair that so much porn makes it out to be. The sex here was remarkably subdued and yet satisfying. It featured a certain edifying slowness–a building of tension and ecstasy that takes its time and isn’t worried about showing off–that one rarely sees anywhere, much less in porn. Even during the (all-female, by the way) orgasms in this film, there was no over-the-top performance, just very real, face-contorting, leg-twitching intensity that, despite my earlier assertions, turned me on immensely.
Particularly in the four-woman orgy scene at the end of the film, two of the performers clearly form a sexual connection that is so intense that they both come simply by watching the other woman work herself to orgasm; the link between them is visibly electric, and yet they are not wildly gyrating or flailing around. They are intense to the point of volatility, and they come with screams of pleasure, but it feels completely un-hurried, un-performed. Similarly, when Morgana masturbates in her office, there is nothing showy about it–no closet full of toys, no spitting or ooh- or aah-ing or contorting, except when she comes and her legs both spasm along with her face, in a long, drawn-out, powerful, yet very quiet orgasm. It feels real, and not in that forced way that so much porn does. It’s not trying too hard. In a word: it’s authentic.
Of course, all this authenticity might not be what everyone is looking for. I wasn’t particularly a fan of Evie Crabapple’s perfect stillness as her partner pleasured her in the kitchen, for instance. But still I appreciated her quietness, her willingness to be pleased without putting on a big show of it, like I so often see in pornographic films. It might not have turned me on very much, but it was refreshing and even relaxing. No rush. No desperation. Just pleasure.
So, look. If you’re one of those people who supports the idea of porn–particularly feminist porn–but has trouble getting turned on by the usual “porn-y” imagery one finds on the internet, where people are screaming and writhing and gasping and doing that weird sucking-on-your-teeth-hissing thing a lot of performers do… Please, please give Morgana Muses’ “New Tricks”–or anything else from her website, Permission4Pleasure–a try.