4 Household Objects That Can Improve Your Sex Life


I’m a big fan of fancy sex toys, but there’s also a bunch of ordinary things that help make my sex life better. While inserting produce or other non-sex-toy objects into your orifices is probably not the safest thing, there are a bunch of things around the house that can be helpful and/or fun while you’re having sexytimes. Here are five of my favorite things you can pick up at your local department store that have sexy applications:

  1. Hand Towels. Need to wipe off your hands so you can look at porn on your phone without getting the screen sticky? Want to set down a butt toy without worrying about getting mess all over your pretty bedspread? Accidentally sat on the lube bottle and need to sop up the giant puddle of lube before you manage to put your foot in it and end up with cold lubey feet? (Definitely not speaking from experience on that last one.) Hand towels are great. I always keep one on hand while I’m masturbating just in case. Preferably, it’ll be kinda large, soft, and in a pretty color. I certainly don’t miss wiping my fingers off on whatever’s closest and getting sticky lube spots on my shirts or sheets.
  2. Socks. Cold feet are no fun. They’re uncomfortable and distracting, and the last thing I need while I’m trying to have a freaking orgasm is any kind of physical discomfort. Yes, you can just crawl under a blanket, and I am totally a fan of getting off while hiding under my cozy warm comforter. If you want to do something more adventurous than lying on your back, socks will keep your extremities warm outside of your blanket cave. Great for if you want to ride a dildo, kneel on the floor to give a blowjob, do a striptease, or just want to take a quick trip to the bathroom without freezing out all of your arousal. Also, socks come in fun patterns and colors, including things like black thigh highs with bows on. Sexy and warm!
  3. Silicone Cooking Utensils. Okay, so this one is more kink-specific. Now we’re talking about pervertables, which are mundane items that can be used as sex toys. In this case, for impact play. Silicone is body safe and can be sanitized, which makes silicone cooking implements a bit safer than some other pervertables. They come in all kinds of shapes and sizes and colors, so you can try out different sensations without dropping a ton of money. You can also use books, hairbrushes, and wooden spoons as impromptu impact play implements. I’m a fan of how my bright green silicone spatula delivers a hard thuddy hit at the center where it’s solid, and then sting around the flexible edges.
  4. Pillows. Many of my formative sexual experiences involved humping pillows, so I might be just a teeny bit nostalgic. If you’ve never tried getting off by humping something, try grabbing a pillow and giving it a go. It might not work for you, and that’s totally okay, all bodies are different, but it could be fun to try. I suggest something relatively firm for grinding against, and those long body pillows are way more comfortable to lay on top of than normal short ones. If pillow humping turns out to not be your thing, you can also use a pillow to shield your body from the cold wall next to your bed, or to protect your knees while you’re kneeling, or prop yourself up against a wall to get a better angle for penetration.

What everyday objects do you use to improve your sex life?

L’amourose Prism V Review


One of my sex toy goals going into 2017 was to try more vibrators, especially G-spot vibrators. So naturally, I jumped at the chance to review the L’amourose Prism V, a luxury silicone G-spot vibe that’s received enthusiastic feedback.

L’amourose has been lauded for its rumbly motors, so I had high expectations for the Prism V. Rumbly vibrations are so, so important to me. Honestly, I think the Magic Wand Rechargeable and Doxy Don have entirely spoiled my clit and skewed my perspective. The Prism V, while not as hardcore as either of those powerhouse vibes, is moderately rumbly and quite powerful. For a rechargeable vibe that’s smaller than a power tool, it really does hold its own.


I’m not in love with the Prism V internally. Several other reviewers noted that they preferred the Prisms clitorally, and I was so sure that I would be the exception. I’m a big fan of vibrations on my G-spot and I thought the Prism V would be just the ticket. It turns out, I have mixed feelings. You could hardly accuse the Prism V of being weak or buzzy, which is a huge point in the pro column. I do love the sheer power and nice rumbliness on my G-spot, but the shape is not perfect for my body. I think I need a slightly more dramatic curve in a G-spot toy, so it can really push into my body.. That’s why I love the Tantus Echo with its sharp ridges, and c-shaped dildos like the Pure Wand. In the Prism V, the curve angles up too much. If they made it so the curve of the neck was the same, but the head was more bulbous and stuck out farther instead of slimming down and tapering into a point, I’d be much happier with it. As it is, the Prism V has more of a gentle s-curve, so  it’s much trickier to get any firm pressure on my G-spot. I really need that firm pressure. Without it, it kinda feels like the Prism V is vibrating on the outside of my G-spot, instead of directly into it. Vibrations inside of my vagina don’t do much for me unless they’re targeting my erogenous zones, no matter how powerful or rumbly they are. They need to make contact. If your G-spot is more sensitive than mine or likes indirect stimulation, you’ll probably be happier with the Prism V as an internal vibe.


Clitorally, it’s big enough to give me the broad stim I like on all but my most sensitive days. I tend to turn it on its side to give myself more surface area to work with. I’m less picky with my clit vibes, because shape isn’t nearly as important here. Is it large? Will it give me indirect stimulation? Then the shape is just fine by me. Here is where the motor becomes vitally important. Clitorally, the motor in the Prism V really gets its chance to shine, cause when it does make direct contact, the quality of the vibrations blow me away.

The Prism V is a great luxury vibe. It’s powerful, moderately rumbly, and pretty. Yes, I am very swayed by aesthetically pleasing sex toys. It’s also small enough to be easily portable and maneuverable, which is a big plus. Also, it’s only $99 at many stores, and that’s an excellent price for a top of the line insertable vibe. As a G-spot vibe, it might work for folks who like internal vibrations generally, or indirect G-spot stimulation, but it’s not going to cut it for direct, intense G-spot stim. However, I wholeheartedly recommend the Prism V for clit use and for taking #aesthetic sex toy photos. If what you need is clit stim that is neither pinpoint nor broad, with a solid motor and a handle to boot, in a moderate price range, the Prism V is the toy for you.

You can buy the Prism V at SheVibe, Peepshow Toys, or Betty’s Toy Box!

The Prism V was sent to me by L’amourose free of charge in exchange for an honest, unbiased review. Thank you, L’amourose!

The Mystery of the Asexual Sex Blogger


The Asexuality Flag

So it might seem weird to you that a person who loves sex toys and often tweets about #peggingadventures with their partner would identify as asexual. I’m using a specific definition of asexuality here, which does not preclude my having a libido or enjoying sexual activity. Maybe asexual isn’t the right word for what I am. There’s a lot of confusion about what exactly the word means, and who it’s for, and I’ve struggled to figure out whether it applies to me. But it’s the best word I have. And yes, I need a word for it. I need a word for it so badly.

A couple of quick definitions: an asexual person is someone who does not experience sexual attraction towards others. Sexual attraction is not the same thing as libido. Libido is the desire to have sex, whether by oneself or with one or more persons. Sexual attraction is the feeling of wanting to have sex with a particular person, due to certain characteristics of that person, physical or otherwise. Asexuality is a spectrum. It contains an array of individuals and sexualities, which vary across the spectrum. Gray-asexual is a term used by people who only experience sexual attraction very rarely, or in very specific, unusual circumstances. Demisexual is a term for people who only experience sexual attraction towards people with whom they have a strong emotional connection; they do not experience sexual attraction towards strangers or acquaintances. An asexual person might be sex-repulsed, or enjoy the physical sensations having sex with their partner, or they might feel about sex the way I do about attending baseball games: it was nice and fun that one time they did it but they’re not particularly motivated to do it again.

I am a person who has sex, both by myself and with others. And yet, sexual attraction is something that I’ve struggled with my whole life. Here’s a little example for you. Sometimes I will see a particularly beautiful person. The person is usually a femme, but not always. I will give a little gasp in sheer awe of their fabulous aesthetic. I take a moment to appreciate how gorgeous they are. If I am with a friend, I might point out the pretty person. I keep walking. My brain stops there. It doesn’t point out how sexy they are, or get aroused, or go “unffff.” It does not matter whether or not I feel compelled to compliment them on their excellent taste in boots, or hair, or body modifications. They’re not sexy to me.

How on earth am I supposed to tell who the sexy people are? I can tell the difference between Literal Hugh Jackman and an average Joe, of course- symmetry of face, how clear and even their skin is, amount of muscle, etc. There’s a checklist. And I know when someone’s hair is a great shade of purple, or their clothes are flattering to their body shape. But what makes one average looking person so much sexier than another? A friend will point out how sexy someone is, and if they are not doing an actual striptease, I struggle to see what makes them different from any of the other individuals we’re surrounded by. For me, sexy people are the ones in sexual situations. Show me a person sitting at a bus stop and I might admire their shoes, but they’re not going to cause me to think about sex. Show me a person in porn who is doing a sex act that I particularly like (say spanking or power exchange or taking big toys) and I will go “damn, that’s hot.” That will turn me on. People don’t.

A few years ago, I had an important conversation with a friend for whom partnered sex is very important. At the time, I was in a romantic monogamous relationship in which we were not having sex of any kind due to legitimate reasons that I won’t discuss here. This close friend told me she couldn’t fathom dating someone with whom she didn’t have a fulfilling sex life. I couldn’t relate to that. I found my relationship with this partner to be tremendously fulfilling romantically, and I saw no reason to end it.  I also told my friend that I would be willing to have sex with that romantic partner if it weren’t for the aforementioned legitimate reasons. And my close friend was flabbergasted because she couldn’t imagine having sex with someone being such a take it or leave it situation- either she’s passionately attracted to them or she won’t touch them with a ten foot pole.

More recently, I was having a conversation with this same close friend about being asexual. I told them how I do this thing where whenever I’m making a new friend, I consider dating them. I can’t seem to prevent my mind from doing a “but what if we kissed? held hands? fell in love?” train of thought, even when the person in question has done nothing to provoke it. It’s a little “maybe what if” that I might then choose to do absolutely nothing about, but I do consider it. I thought this was odd, because I’m pretty sure most people don’t appraise all the acquaintances they get along with as potential sexual and/or romantic partners. My friend thought this made total sense, and told me that she does this with people that she is attracted to and hits it off with. She felt that if aesthetics and sexual attraction played little to no role for her, she would also do this with all the cool people she met.

In this way, it sometimes seems that being on the asexual spectrum has increased my sexual partners. When a person is kind to me, respectful, makes me feel comfortable, and I think will be fun to play with, they bring themselves into the “might sleep with” category. This includes nonromantic friends, and I’ve always liked having casual sex with my friends. There are several friends of mine who, were they down and neither of us in monogamous romantic relationships, I would happily have sex with. Because I trust them, and I like sex, and I think it’s fun to explore new things with my friends. Why should I wait for some kind of burning hot connection to have that kind of fun? Something I’ve struggled with a lot is what is the difference between “I want to have sex” and “I want to have sex with you, specifically”? Where is the line? What even is attraction? Some days I just don’t know.

For a long time I didn’t consider that the term “asexual” could apply to me. I have a sex drive, I masturbate, I sometimes have partnered sex. That didn’t feel very non-sexual to me. And I broke down crying somewhere around the age of 13 because I couldn’t fathom what attraction felt like. Because I was pretty sure I had a crush on this girl, but it didn’t feel the way I was told it was supposed to. Because I wanted to spend time with her and talk to her and hold her hand and she did nothing to my genitals. I wanted to be around her all the time and I wanted to be important to her and I was pretty sure that’s what a crush was but I didn’t feel any magical sparks. And I hadn’t felt those magical sparks toward anyone, of any gender, because while I was open to the idea of sex involving another human being, I couldn’t imagine another human being as inherently arousing. It crushed me, because I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I just felt so wrong.

I know I don’t fit a lot of people’s conception of the textbook asexual person. I know that attraction is complicated and that not fitting the mainstream narrative doesn’t mean I have to be asexual. I know that, but I have never felt sexual attraction towards another human being in my life. Before I found the idea of the asexuality spectrum I didn’t know there was a word that applied to me that wasn’t “broken” or “wrong”. Don’t tell me I don’t need that word. When I discovered it, I thought “There’s a word for that? I didn’t know there was a word for that. I didn’t know there was anyone else in the world like me. I thought I was just broken.”

Maybe “asexual” isn’t the most precise word to describe the way I feel. Maybe it’s confusing to have a spectrum so broad that it encompasses wildly different people. Maybe I’ll always have to explain exactly what I mean by that label, or else people will get a wildly inaccurate idea of me. But it’s important for me to have a label. It’s important for me to know I’m not alone, or broken, or despicable. I’m just asexual.