Faking It

Yes boys and girls I fake it. I will deny it, and I will be so very good at denying it, but its true. I fake it all the time. Not with YOU, of course. Just with everyone else.

Don't get me wrong the sex is G-R-E-A-T and I do cum. And when I do cum I come like redwood hard, making me sweat and moan, quake and shake just like you're used to, leaving me to fight back the urge to grin like an idiot from ear to ear. Oh, I tell sweet baby Jesus, it is nearly Biblical good.

But, you know, sometimes it is so very good I hit a plateau -- not the bad kind at the bottom of some terrible cavern, but the kind nearly at the peak of some mighty mountain range and I damn near see the tippy-top of the precipice, however my mind just won't let me get pushed over the edge.

This is the juncture you, taking personal offense at potentially having me fake it on you or thinking back along your own sex track record you wonder if any other ladies and gents have given you a spectacular show, cross your arms and say that I don't have to fake it for you. Of course I know I don't have to fake it for you. If the sex was dreadful, believe me, I'd tell you. Passive and submissive as I may be, I'm still not into shutting my trap and sticking with some bad sex.

So lets steer away from the "what you could be doing better" talk and your unnecessarily hurt ego.

Call me narcissistic, but my peals of ecstasy are not to protect your feelings. Faking it is all about me: about me not being able to go over that ledge, which can certainly be frustrating sometimes, causing figurative blue balls and the desperate need for a cold shower (which, I would like to point out, sometimes happens even after the most knee-shattering of orgasms.): about me actually becoming more aroused as my fake big O sounds trick my head into releasing a real one: about me wanting to finish the grand scene with a dramatic ending for my own spank-bank: and, only once in a blue moon, about me feeling embarrassed about my own sexual inadequacy.

So I lied before, I probably have pulled a fast one on you (and everyone else) a time or two and, though I have explained myself thoroughly, you probably will still sulk and question whenever you hear those familiar "ooohs" and "ahhhhs" escape my lips. But never fear, though I may replicate Kat'z Delicatessen every once in a while, I still come back for more.

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Want to see me at the Lusty Lady?
This Wednesday 8/3 I will be in Private Pleasures 11am to 1245pm and on stage 1 to 3pm
Thursday 8/4 I will be on stage until 230pm and having some double trouble action with newbie Tania in Private Pleasures 3 to 445pm!!

Going Back

Its that time of year again. Summer is here, and while most people I know my age have finished up their semesters and are free at least for the summer, I start blowing off the layer of dust coating my stack of LSAT prep books and flattening out crumpled scan trons. Although I knew this time last year I would have to buckle down and get back to academic work this July the feelings of constriction and uncertainty have somehow snuck up on me.

Part of me is so ready to go back to school, to step away from the irregularity that has become my life, and immerse myself in law dictionaries, libraries, and mid-term test anxiety. Familiar and safe, school is something I know I am good at, something I can tell the grandparents all about, who will then declare their much coveted pride about their sweet granddaughter -a future lawyer!-to all their friends.

*Gag*

As much luke-warm fuzziness as these images give me they also mean radical upheaval in my life, necessitating change I am not quite sure I am ready for: limiting my time for the Lusty Lady and other sex-work, my emotional bandwidth for friends and partners, and energies for my projects and passions. I want to be able to do it all! Alas, I know that can't be how it goes.

To stay motivated I've been trying to do little things: placing sticky note reminders that I am going to law school for my own satisfaction and not that of my family all around my apartment, buying myself awesome feminist law books to read, and touching base with people who have already gone through the process and survived. Only three months of LSAT studying, three months of applications, and three years of law school...it can't be as bad as I'm thinking it will be, can it?

Velvet SF - Queer Play Party

I am joining forces with the amazing Ms. Bix and doing promotions for Velvet SF, the ONLY queer dance party in the Bay Area where you can do the dirty. Yes, finally a queer play party! And you know you should go and get involved because I only back projects I truly love <3

The next Velvet will be Friday July 22nd from 9 to 2 am!

Don't miss writer Allison Moon's pre-party workshop GIRL SEX 101 (8 to 9pm) and special performances by queer femme-inist CHLOE CAMILLA! DJ Rapid Fire (Stay Gold) will be spinning and Crashpad porn will be playing all night long!

For lovely ladies, transmen, fierce femmes, bois, genderqueer, badass butches, and intersex queers.

$20 at the door. BYOB.

Mission Control is community operated. For more details about their space and charter visit their website.

Want to get in free? Volunteer! Other questions? Contact me at velvetsfpromo@gmail.com for more details.

Out of the Bubble

Nights out are usually spent dancing, drinking, dining, and gabbing with my sex-worker friends. With them I know I am in a safe space where it doesn't matter if I mix up real names with porn names, joke about the often hilarious things our patrons do, and slip in and out of our personal dialect. In this bubble, this glorious bubble I can only wish could expand to encompass everyone in my life, I don't have to guard myself from other's judging eyes and unapproving tongues, insatiable appetites for justifications and hurried exits. With them, with my community, I sometimes forget that the bubble exists at all, but when socializing with others I remain anxious and vigilant, even in the most relaxed settings.

Outside my bubble, though I will gladly charge the field in oral combat if I am attacked directly or see others assaulted by someone being ignorant just for the sake of being so, my first instinct is protectionism: to not bring focus to my work or goals unless I know it is socially safe to do so. When asked the standard "So, what do you do?" question I'll make things up, claiming to work in an office or some menial retail situation, foregoing the explanation of my pride in working for causes I care intimately about. I hunker down and build a wall, making necessary snap assumptions about the new acquaintances, relying on the fact I will probably never see them again, passively deciding not to make anyone, including myself, unnecessarily uncomfortable by the truth.

Wanting desperately to connect to another person, establish a new friendship, I'll test the waters by telling the truth: I dance naked and am the current lead madam of the Lusty Lady peepshow (among other things), I care passionately about sex-worker rights, and have every intention of dedicating my future career, whatever it may be, to establishing the legitimacy of sex-work as work socially and, specifically, under the law. The results are mixed. Sometimes I have been pleasantly surprised by acceptance and easy conversation. More often people do all the negative things I have come to expect, including the most recent reaction: "That is why you are dressed like THAT!"

(Dear reader: I was wearing a polka dot dress that nearly reached my knees and didn't even reveal an inch of cleavage-not a small feat with DD tits,-stockings, and tennis shoes. Please tell me what the hell that is supposed to mean.)

Occasionally I feel I bring these situations upon myself by choosing to do the work I do and choosing to talk about it, kicking myself for making things harder than they really need to be. I let myself be isolated by the stigmatization and lumped with the stereotypes, fearing the difficult futures naysayers believe I am headed towards. Thankfully these moments are few and far between, never lasting long, but they do happen, despite all my rallying and inspiring friends and co-workers. Someday I hope to live in a world where the secrecy and sensitivity won't be needed and the awkward, hurtful moments won't exist, but I fear that time won't be anytime soon.

Relationship Maps

Immersed in the dating sea again for nearly two years one would think I'd know how to navigate, but sometimes I really don't feel like I do. Embarrassingly, I peruse the dating section at my local bookstore, but beyond the titles like "How To Date After Divorce" nothing really seems to acknowledge any of my "what's to be expected" dating questions (and even that one is a stretch.) Asides from pop culture, which obviously caters to traditional monogamous relationships, I have no real gauge for relationship landmarks and, more often than not, feel like I wander aimlessly through a course of mountains and mole-hills without ever knowing whats-what.

Pop culture has taught me the traditional relationship road map goes something like this: first date, second date, first kiss, DTR (defining the relationship aka deciding to stop seeing other people), first vacation, first "I love you's," meeting the parents, holidays together, a proposal leading to the final destination of a "happily ever after"  filled with white tulle and children. Movies and TV shows play with these common themes (search Netflix for any romantic comedy and you will see what I mean), sometimes pushing some of the more taboo subjects (a couple flirting with each other's friends or a possible threesome, gasp!), but mostly parodying the mainstream landmarks, large and small, for the sake of extracting a stronger emotion from their audience. Although I've been an avid pop-culture consumer all of my life, those stronger reactions are usually lost on me.

Knowing that it is not necessary to have landmarks at all, I still fall into the routine of trying to figure out what counts given the number of X factors anyways. I attribute value to what other's may see as silly things: like the first use of a pet name, a key exchange, the first time more than one partner is in the same social space, and the location of my toothbrush (my rule of thumb is it doesn't hit the toothbrush holder until its been invited. Thank you TV sitcoms.) Perhaps small and insignificant they are all duly noted and filed away with other, more mainstream, moments of significance that have tugged on my heart strings to await even more unknown territory.

My maps (yes, multiple to accommodate different relationships) look more like connect-the-dots rather than the traditional course and none have a clear trajectory. While some of the traditional landmarks are similar to what I experience with people I am dating, others are totally off the grid, and some, meeting the parents as an example, I don't even know if they would be possibilities even if I wanted them to be. Given that these relationships are not bound to the rigors of an end goal of marriage and children their existence, purpose, and expectations are now free to change to match the personalities, logistics, and sentiments of those involved explicitly.

Rather than give me assistance in navigating my relationships, my landmarks tend to show me what I already know - that the wonderful happenstances with the people in my life must be viewed subjectively and cannot be taken for granted, there are lots of things other's may be seeing as mountain ranges that I may not have even noted, and landmarks are not static, gaining and losing significance as the rest of the map and relationship changes shape.

Updates

I've been included in some fabulous writer's awesome work within the last month and I totally slacked on posting their links!

SF Guardian SexSF blogger Amber Schadewald dished out my secrets in her post Clean Secrets Revealed: The Lusty Ladies

My interview with scandelous sex blogger Fleur De Lis can be found here: Bottoms Up With Sandy Bottoms

Also!

I hereby swear to post my Lusty Lady availability weekly! Just in case anyone wants to get a little more up close and personal with me.

This week:

-Monday June, 13th starting at 830pm til close. Private Pleasures 11pm to 1245am.
-Wednesday June 15th Private Pleasures 9am to 1045am. Live Stage early afternoon.
-Sunday June 19th starting at 830pm til close. Private Pleasures 11pm to 1245am.

Toys, Toys, Toys!

I have to say I don't use sex toys nearly as often as I would like to. Sure I whip out a select few of my work essentials to give naughty shows in the Private Pleasures booth at the Lusty Lady, but the toy chest general stays closed and tucked away at home. With enough plugs to dam up the Colorado River and vibrators that span the colors of the rainbow, I feel ashamed of my hoarding and lack of indulgence in their pleasure potential.

Fantasizing about expanding my toy collection may not be something I do all the time, but my addiction to pleasure products comes in third only behind dresses and lingerie (I know I'm such a girl!). Walking into a sex shop, Good Vibes being my candy shop of choice, my eyes widen and I can't help going about the floor ogling all the shiny new toys I haven't claimed as my own. While I try to make thoughtful shopping lists ahead of time, sticking to only the necessities (yes, a pink rechargeable Hitachi IS a necessity), sometimes I slip up, filling my basket with all kinds of "just in case" items and bringing them home only to place them next to their older, often forgotten, toy friends.

As much as I love my toy collection I just never seem to reach for them in the heat of the moment. Whether I am participating in a little solo play or play with others, when the dress comes off and the pants unzip I usually get so caught in the moment I forget that my bounty exists at all, only thinking of bringing out a treasured buzzing, rotating, or clamping item or two after the last ooh and ahhh. Sigh. All those beautiful objects going to waste...

Sometimes I think increasing their visibility might inspire more appearances, mounting a 'toy shelf' above the bed or leaving them in my overnight bag so they go where ever I go, but the thought of forgetting to put them away before having guests over to my apartment or accidentally spilling them on public transportation makes me think there must be another way. Less risky and more effective would be to simply tell my partners of my wishes and ask that they help incorporating my treasures into our already awesome sexy time.