Apr 242014
 
Originally Posted on www.AntoniaCrane.com  
images-3As usual, I drifted off to the True Crime channel at 3a.m. after stripping for 13 hours straight then L and I slept in a double bed in the Motel 6 off Highway 111 to save some dough. L sleeps exactly like me; I don’t even hear her breathe. She’s stiff and still and silent. We are like a couple of bruised dead dolls slathered with anti-aging eye cream, fantasizing about stalkers and sociopaths teeming in the parking lot below us, after our purses stuffed with stripper bills. But for once, that Motel 6 was quiet.

Our room was hot and stuffy in the morning and the door was stuck, so I used the wall for leverage and pulled hard. Outside, snow-capped mountains towered against a pristine blue sky. Palm trees lined a packed parking lot. I thought I recognized a customer from the club the night before, walking his dog on the lawn. He called me “Humboldt” all night then in a drunken stupor, asked me to be his Valentine.

Stripping has never flattered my real romantic relationships. It makes them look like fat neglect machines, poking holes in my pincushion heart. While guys in strip clubs shower me with easy, unconditional adoration, my real relationships are tense and difficult. Lately, I’ve been filling up my empty wallet and my emotional well with knee-jerk marriage proposals from strangers. I’m not saying it’s right, but I’m grateful to have found Desert Showgirls; at least, my ego is.

L is my stripper spirit guide. She knows where to go and I listen, pack my survival kit and hit the trail. Years ago, she swore by New Orleans, so after a bloody Mongol fist fight broke out at an Italian restaurant (that also illegally allowed us to strip) near Pasadena, I borrowed $200 for a one-way plane ticket and spent the next three years falling madly in love with NOLA and the clubs that embraced me there. Ever since then, I follow L’s lead. The best place to strip in LA is not in LA at all but near Palm Springs in a nondescript strip mall. Desert Showgirls is the Snickers Bar of strip clubs: Generic and dark on the outside, creamy gold mine on the inside. And like most places of ill repute, it’s near an adult video store and shares a parking lot with a suspiciously vacant cigar shop and a very good Mexican restaurant that keeps unpredictable hours.

A strip dancer performs for customers at the Mons Venus strip club in Tampa

Unlike San Francisco, dancing in LA has always sucked. After dropping the drunken girls off at their overpriced apartments in Hollywood, I wondered why I didn’t go put on a skirt and wait tables at Swingers instead. Actually, I knew why. I’m a terrible waitress, but a great stripper. The two jobs are similar but different. Both jobs require being nice to rude, demanding people and having superb listening skills. But, I have no instinct for that perfect balance of timing and attention to detail when it comes to serving food. However, I am acutely aware of other hungers: the desire to be desired and the need to be heard. And In twenty years of stripping, I’ve always been a night girl, never a day shift girl, but now I see the benefit of being the one girl on the floor at noon. Day shift guys are different. They seem sadder, sneaky and more stoned which can attract a strange breed of clientele, like Jerry, the man who cried while I gave him a lap dance.

No matter what time of day, strip clubs invite a heightened sense of suffering and affection, kind of like kissing the hand of someone dying; meeting their suffering head on and dancing with it, like last Saturday, when Jerry cried during our lap dance.

In issue #441 of The Sun, Janna Malamud Smith recalls psychoanalyst Jonathan Lear’s belief that we are “finite erotic creatures.” Meaning, we dangle on a tight rope between our “expansive desire and our inevitable death.” We Strippers shimmy to that tune. We experience the world through erotic movement and connection and that movement is towards our death.

Antonia AcraneAn older dude in a bright red sweatshirt kept calling me “honey.” He followed me around the empty club, so I had to deal with him.
It was about 4p.m. and he was shitfaced.
“Honey,” he growled. “I’m sixty-four years old. I’ve been to clubs all over the world. I saw Jim Morrison perform in public for the first time.”

“Oh yeah? Where was that?”

“The Rainbow Room. He was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Performing in public. What’s the matter, Honey. You too cool to dance for me?”

“I’m about to go on stage right now,” I lied. “You like Pink Floyd? Led Zeppelin or the Stones?”

“Oh, Miss Attitude is too cool, huh.”

A petite brunette finally joined me on the floor. I told her Jerry was looking to spend some money. She refused to talk to him. He stunk. He was rude. He was shitfaced.

“I’ll dance for him, so he’ll leave,” I said and pulled him into the VIP area, slightly worried he didn’t have enough cash on him to pay me.

He grabbed my hands when I took his glasses off his head.
“What is wrong with you?” I whispered, my mouth brushed his ear.

“I love women. Been married four times and they always leave me.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“I cheat. I get bored. I hate women.” Tears streamed down both of his cheeks.

I kept dancing and he kept crying. At the end of the song I said, “I’m not taking any more of your money, Jerry.”

“Keep dancing,” he said, still crying.

“Fuck you, Jerry. Go smoke.” I snatched his cigarettes, phone and his cocktail, his headphones and his wallet.

“Listen honey.”

“Get up. We’re going.” He over tipped me by fifty bucks and I walked towards the door where guys could duck outside and smoke.

The bouncer walked up to us. “Your cab’s here sir.” I kissed Jerry good bye on his wet cheek.

imagesAntonia Crane’s work has appeared in: The Rumpus, Salon.com, DAME Magazine, Black Clock, SLAKE, Word RiotPANK, The Whistling Fire, The Coachella Review, Phantom Seed, Smith Magazine, Diverse Voices Quarterly and lots of other places. She holds an MFA in Fiction from Antioch University. She wrote a memoir about the sex industry and her mother’s illness: SPENT and is one of the editors of The Citron Review. She teaches Creative Writing to at-risk teens for Write Girl and Woodcraft Rangers. She lives in Los Angeles where she runs, tweets and blogs.  Check her out on … Twitter: @AntoniaCrane  Web: www.AntoniaCrane.com

Dec 042013
 
99148-ADVENTURE

By Lady Cheeky     Originally published on Kinkly.com on December 5, 2013

When I was little, growing up in a Jewish household, I used to write to Santa every year with a list of all the toys I wanted. I really didn’t understand why Santa gave all of my friends toys on December 25th and not me. So, as my letters to “Santa” went unanswered year after year, it occurred to me I might be asking the wrong entity about the wrong date. So, I changed my M.O. I began asking Moses for all the stuff I wanted.

This plan seemed to work. Every year for about a week in winter, I would get a gift a day until “Jewish Christmas” was over. However, Moses was a cheap bastard. Each year he brought me one “big” gift and the rest of the week he brought me things like a pair of socks with beagles on it or colored pencils. I caught on, and decided to ask Moses for just one really stupendous gift each year, (so as not to confuse him with too many options). It worked. Each Chanukah (within reason) I received that one item I had asked for … along with socks and pencils.

I’m an adult now, but in keeping with tradition, I get myself one awesome gift every year as a reward for … um, behaving myself (mostly). This year is no exception. I just got myself the Lovelife Adventure Triple Stim Vibrator by OhMiBod.

READ THE REST AT KINKLY.COM

photo photo3 photo2

Oct 122013
 

tumblr_ludca9CUwQ1r2t9z1o1_500 Originally published on gasm.org on October 11, 2013

At the end of her sexless marriage, Elle Chase went on a journey to seek the one thing she never had. This is the story of what she found.

Recently, after turning 40 and leaving a sexless marriage, I had come to the sobering realization I had never experienced “passion.” In fact, I had never identified myself as a sexual being at all and furthermore, never had pleasurable sex. I ruminated over this discovery and stunned, thought “how is it possible to reach my fortieth year never enjoying sex?” The thought was staggering, “This can’t go on” I said with determination, and made it my number one goal to achieve a fully realized and satisfied sex life … fast.

But what’s a middle-aged woman to do? I was well past the age when most women experiment, I hadn’t dated in ten years and to be honest, “dating” wasn’t interesting to me … unbridled, sweaty, sticky, lustful sex was. I was overwhelmed with what it would take to reach my goal. Where do I even start? I’m not even certain what turns me on!

Thinking back to my teenage years, I remembered that the soft-core porn of the 80’s gave me a certain tickle down-under and that I had come many times to the beautiful works of Anais Nin. The boys of that time watched porn, but these venues were socially acceptable in my circle and readily discussed with my girlfriends. But, right now my sexual thirst was so great I knew these past favorites wouldn’t satisfy. I was parched after years in the desert. I needed to take out the big guns. So, I took the leap. Contrite, I logged online and looked for a tall glass of water.

The World Wide Web offered many choices; gonzo porn, amateur porn … Click HERE to go to GASM.ORG to read the rest

Sep 302013
 

Scientists-Reveal-Average-Penis-Size-In-Recent-Studyby Melissa White       (originally posted in Huffington Post Women on 09/26/2013 5:55 pm)
Condom Expert, CEO & Founder of Lucky Bloke

(Check out my quote in this article!)

It truly is all about the size of the package — but not in the way that you might think.

It’s time to take a stand: regarding penis size, and what it means to be a sexually desirable man.

A large penis doesn’t make a man a great kisser, fill him with sensuality and passion, make his partner feel loved or safe – nor guarantee that he is a remotely competent lover.

It’s often ignored that the largest sex organ we have is our brain. The brain, which it happens, is also bombarded with distorted messaging on what makes a man, a man.

And it starts at an increasingly early age. The way men and their bodies are portrayed in mass media deeply affects their lives.

There are over a million men in the U.S. with serious eating disorders. Perhaps more revealing, is a figure from a recent UK study, which found 1 out of 3 men would sacrifice a year of their life in exchange for their ideal body.

I began speaking to men in my circle, as well as to Lucky Bloke customers, about these findings, and then took it to Facebook:

“Gentlemen, how many years would you be willing to sacrifice, in exchange for your ideal body? How many for your ideal penis?”

The responses given indicated …

To read the rest, click HERE

Aug 252013
 
Photo from: www.sulit.com.ph

Photo from: www.sulit.com.ph

This article originally appeared on www.DatingAdvice.com 

For anyone who’s heard about Tantra and has been daunted by the complexities of this eastern art of lovemaking, you might want to consider starting with a Lingam massage.

In Tantra, the Lingam is the penis. In fact, in Sanskrit it means “a symbol of divine generative energy, esp. a phallus or phallic object worshiped by Shiva in the Hindu religion.”

The art of Lingam massage is not to bring the man to orgasm, but to let him relax and be the receiver of pleasure, hopefully achieving a higher state of consciousness. This act can strengthen the intimacy between you and your lover or build intimacy between new partners.

While a Lingam massage is best administered by a partner who is a trained and certified Tantra practitioner, we can pick up a couple of tips to add a unique and relaxing experience to your sexual repertoire.

Set the scene.

Forgo the bedside lamps and go for candlelight instead. Set the mood with relaxing music and incense to make the atmosphere extra exotic.

You’ll want to have an unscented, all natural oil for the massage and one or two hand towels close by. I suggest a high grade coconut oil that you can buy in any supermarket or health food store, as it can be used for both massage and lube. If you use a commercial massage oil with a scent, you’ll want to have some lube on hand for the main event, as some additives and scented essential oils can be irritating to that sensitive area.

Deliberate touch.

Ask your lover to lie down face up and close his eyes. Warming the oil in your hands, begin to spread the liquid over his entire body. As you are rubbing his body, set your intention to do this in the most loving and caring way.

Make believe you’ve never touched this person before and slowly explore every part of his body with each rhythmic stroke. These caresses will slow his heart rate, reduce any stress from the day and speed up the release of oxytocin, sometimes called the “love hormone,” which promotes feelings of well-being, trust and bonding.

Honor the Lingam.

Part of the mindset of a Lingam massage is honoring his penis. Think about how much trust it takes for a man to give up complete control of not just his penis, but his entire body to another person.  Respect this relinquishment and handle his body and his cock with the care and reverence it deserves. Intention is everything here. Again, the goal is not for him to orgasm (although that’s a lovely side benefit if he does), but to allow him to receive pleasure and tune into the sensual array of sensations his penis can experience.

 

“The important thing is to enjoy the process of giving him pleasure.”

 

Massage time.

When it comes time to massage his cock, make certain your hands are oiled or lubed.

For beginners, think of massaging his penis as if you were deconstructing a hand job. Do everything you might do in a hand job, but break up the actions and go much slower.

Try cradling his balls and massage in between his testicles. Rub his perineum while you gently stroke his shaft.

Concentrate on just the head of his cock. Use one hand like a “juicer” and gently move the other up and down his rod.

Really oil up your hands, put his dick in between your laced fingers and move up and down with a firm grip.

Take your interlaced hands above his corona (head of his penis) and even more firmly bring them down again, mimicking the opening to your vagina. Then watch his toes curl.

A full-body orgasm.

You could find that throughout the massage your partner might vary from hard to soft and everywhere in between. This is completely normal and has nothing to do with his level of enjoyment.

Continue your massaging, stroking, grazing and fondling of his cock. In fact, by “edging” (bringing him close to coming and then back down again over and over) his orgasm later, perhaps when both of you are having sex, this will make it more intense.

Some men report that they have a full-body orgasm. This is a powerful orgasm where he may also feel pulsing sensation in other parts of his body, like his torso, thighs and feet. Even others report a “heady” feeling of euphoria more profound and deep than they have experienced in orgasms past.

While there are way too many techniques to go over here, I highly recommend the book “Red Hot Touch: A Head-to-Toe Handbook for Mind-Blowing Orgasms” by Jaiya and Jon Hanauer, as well as her companion DVD “Red Hot Touch: Genital Massage for Men.”

I have found Jaiya’s series of books and DVDs to be the best for beginners. They offer a more in-depth explanation into the specific technique of Lingam massage.

Whatever happens when you decide to give him your version of a Lingam massage, the important thing is to enjoy the process of giving him the pleasure of a new and enticing way to experience his sexuality.

Regardless of whether this becomes a part of your regular routine or just something you try once or twice, I’m certain it won’t be something he will soon forget.

Ladies, have you ever given your man a massage like this? Do you feel like it’s something you want to incorporate into your love life?

For more on this subject, I recommend the following book and DVD’s all by JAIYA:

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  Red Hot Touch  - Book

 

 

 

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  Genital Massage for Men - DVD

 

 

 

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  The Best of Penis Massage - DVD

Jun 242013
 
stoya-censored

By Alyssa Royse from her blog Just Alyssa on 6/11/11

I love bodies. I love both men’s and women’s bodies. I love my body. I have always loved Stoya’s body, hers especially. (And her amazingly pale skin, dark hair, pouty lips…. ) And, like many women, I look at all the bodies in the media, and I never see my own body. I often joke that I am built like a 16 year-old boy, which doesn’t fit in either Madison Avenue or The Valley’s idea of sexy. I have always wanted to see my body reflected back at me in a way that tells me that society deems it beautiful. (We all want that, even those of us who “know” better.)

Stoya on the cover of Richardson Magazine, As photographed by Steven Klein. So, imagine my shock when the new issue of Richardson Magazine, which is essentially high-art porn and graphic discussion of sex and sexuality, featured Stoya on the cover. As I’ve never seen her before. She’s always been very traditionally feminine. Super slender, but soft and curvy. Not any more. She is now sporting six-pack abs, defined deltoids and the kind of sinewy muscles you’d expect on a, well, on a guy. Or on me. Imagine my shock when I saw a body that looks like mine on the cover of a magazine. And imagine my shock when I realized that my first response was one of disappointment. I didn’t really like it.

WHAT THE FUCK? How could I not like it? In an attempt to figure out what was going on in my mind, I took my laptop into my room, took off all my clothes and stood in front of the mirror to compare our bodies. Yup, pretty much the same.

Me, August 2010, feeling strong and sexy, if not traditionally feminine.

Me, August 2010, feeling strong and sexy, if not traditionally feminine.

So what’s going on in my head? Could it be as simple as that she has pubic hair, something I can’t stand? Nope, not that simple.

Could it be some deep-rooted self-loathing that I wasn’t aware of? I don’t think so, I genuinely love my body, and have a damned good relationship with it.

After thinking about it, I came up with some ideas that may tap into something much larger when it comes to porn, sexuality, and even our relationships with our lovers.

1. Porn may be more about aspiration than validation. That may seem obvious, but it’s novel to me. I have often said that I can’t stand watching porn in which the women have fake breasts, because it’s just ridiculous, they don’t seem real. The women, not the breasts. Or women with tons of make-up, unless it’s all artsy. Or super cheesy greasy body-building men, because they are just as fake. I, generally, enjoy more natural, real bodies, even though that also means that they are a little heavier, or softer or….

Seeing Stoya with my body was just too real. It left me nothing to aspire too. Or for. There was no fantasy, it was just reality as I know it.  If I wanted to fantasize about my real life, that would leave me with a messy house, unpaid bills, a string of immature men and batteries that die too quickly. No thanks.

2. I want you to be what I want you to be, and I don’t want you to change. This one, obviously, sucks to realize. But I think this may plague us in our real relationships, not just our relationships with porn stars. Stoya, to me, has always been this Porcelain Doll fantasy creature who was delicate and feminine, as soft and smooth as a statue whose satin patina was earned by centuries of admirers rubbing a lucky spot. When she suddenly became something else, I didn’t want her any more.

God that sucks. I am disappointed in myself for this one. I am a little mad at her for leaving me alone in the fantasy that I created for her. What right does she have to self-actualize? To become stronger? To not fill my fantasies?

Yup, relationships die of that kind of narcissism. Mine, not hers.

stoya-censoredSo I look again at Stoya. She’s hotter than ever. She looks strong in every way, the look in her eye says, “this is me, can you handle it,” rather than “I’ll be your fantasy.”

If I met her in the real world, I’d be blown away by her strength and beauty and sex appeal. I’d judge a man by whether or not he found her attractive, because her sexiness is of a much more imposing sort now. It’s raw and powerful. And there is nothing sexier than a man who TRULY finds strong, powerful women sexy.

I look at her picture and I’m almost scared of her. It’s not the approachable and easy sexiness that I am used to from her. It’s like a dare, a challenge. It’s a little scary.

I look at me. And for the first time I think I feel what I know so many men feel when they encounter me when my internal fires are lit. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve heard the words, “too intense,” “too much,” and “I’m not ready” uttered by men I have loved, been loved by and wanted to keep loving and being loved by.

And there I am, naked, on the cover of this magazine. It hurt. I got it.

I got comfortable with it.

Perhaps this is the “me” that I needed to see reflected. Not the shape of the body, but the intensity of the stand and the stare. The still strength.

This is not how people have traditionally defined sexy. This is a woman who is strong as hell, and not in a “trying to be a guy” way. Not in an unnatural way. Not in a seductive way. She is just standing in her own power and letting people react how they want, unconcerned, unassuming and yes, uninviting. Because her sexuality, it turns out, isn’t anyone else’s business, and she doesn’t need you in it.

Credit where credit is due, the photo was taken by Steven Klein who is a ridiculously talented photographer who does largely editorial portrait work. But the power, that’s all her.

Now, when I look at the cover, I realize that it is aspirational. More than anything I’ve ever seen.

That’s what naked power is. And it’s sexy as hell. Strength, and sexiness, comes from the inside. The outside is just a container, and sometimes, it can’t be contained.

IF YOU ARE OVER 18 AND CAN LEGALLY LOOK AT NAKED PICTURES OF BODIES (as if anyone can stop you and it’s anyone else’s business,) here is a very buff Stoya very much in the buff.

Alyssa-RoyseAlyssa Royse is freelance writer, speaker and sex-educator living in Seattle with her boyfriend and their 3 daughters. She co-hosts Sexxx Talk Radio on The Progressive Radio Network and is the co-founder of NotSoSecret.com, a site dedicated to empowered women’s sexuality. She can also be found on her eponymous blog, where she pontificates about food, family, politics and the Seattle rain. Twitter: @AlyssaRoyse  Website: Just Alyssa  TEDx: Your Sexuality: Ask & Tell  Progressive Radio Network: SexxxTalk Radio

Other writing by Alyssa Royse: 
Nice Guys Commit Rape Too – xoJane
The Danger In Demonizing Male Sexuality – The Good Men Project

May 272013
 

Unknown-1

Sex educators, writers and porn stars share their favorite adult Tumblrs  

WebBY   Originally published on Salon.com, SATURDAY, MAY 25, 2013  

Earlier this week, in light of worries that Yahoo’s purchase of Tumblr would mean an end to porn on the micro-blogging platform, I reviewed its most popular adult blogs. I slogged through hours of explicit material — all for you. But then, the sophisticated porn-oisseurs among you were like: Who needs this plebe porn? Show us the best!

Alright, I hear you. But there is only so much of the Internet — even the pornographic Tumblr Internet — that one woman can cover, so I called in some expert help from porn stars, journalists and sexperts. The result is a wildly eclectic bunch of blogs featuring everything from porn superstar Stoya to the indifferent cats of amateur porn. There is something in here for everyone — even if you don’t consider yourself a pornophile.

Lady Cheeky

This blog brands itself as “a curated sensual images site that focuses on sensuality, positive body image, sexual pleasure and beautiful photos depicting desire and passion.” Its tagline: “smart is sexy.” Michael Thomsen, a sex writer, recommends it because of “the looping GIFs of isolated gestures during sex,” he says, “like a stroke of the hand just playing into infinity, or else like pulling down someone’s underwear while their hips rise in anticipation.” It’s this “pretty straightforward, vanilla stuff that often gets rushed over in long-form porn but [which] captures a little more honest and relatable part of sex than just fuck videos,” he says. That’s the magic of GIFs, Thomsen argues: “[They're] the perfect format for getting around the paradox of needing sex on film to be maximally visual, which also makes it maximally unnatural and mechanistic.”

Read the rest >> HERE

May 272013
 

Unknown-1

Sex educators, writers and porn stars share their favorite adult Tumblrs  

WebBY   Originally published on Salon.com, SATURDAY, MAY 25, 2013  

Earlier this week, in light of worries that Yahoo’s purchase of Tumblr would mean an end to porn on the micro-blogging platform, I reviewed its most popular adult blogs. I slogged through hours of explicit material — all for you. But then, the sophisticated porn-oisseurs among you were like: Who needs this plebe porn? Show us the best!

Alright, I hear you. But there is only so much of the Internet — even the pornographic Tumblr Internet — that one woman can cover, so I called in some expert help from porn stars, journalists and sexperts. The result is a wildly eclectic bunch of blogs featuring everything from porn superstar Stoya to the indifferent cats of amateur porn. There is something in here for everyone — even if you don’t consider yourself a pornophile.

Lady Cheeky

This blog brands itself as “a curated sensual images site that focuses on sensuality, positive body image, sexual pleasure and beautiful photos depicting desire and passion.” Its tagline: “smart is sexy.” Michael Thomsen, a sex writer, recommends it because of “the looping GIFs of isolated gestures during sex,” he says, “like a stroke of the hand just playing into infinity, or else like pulling down someone’s underwear while their hips rise in anticipation.” It’s this “pretty straightforward, vanilla stuff that often gets rushed over in long-form porn but [which] captures a little more honest and relatable part of sex than just fuck videos,” he says. That’s the magic of GIFs, Thomsen argues: “[They're] the perfect format for getting around the paradox of needing sex on film to be maximally visual, which also makes it maximally unnatural and mechanistic.”

Read the rest >> HERE

Apr 052013
 
Cheeky-480x640px

BY   Orginally appeared on TheRumpus.net   on  4/5/13

Tweet sex sites are a many splendored thing, opening doors to fluid identities that are both sexy and risk-free while erecting an emotional firewall to avoid real, personal rejection. My hackles go up whenever I think about technology replacing human touch, but when I met Lady Cheeky and heard her story of seeking and finding passion via tweet sex, I witnessed a brave new world where one woman’s sexuality was accessed in an accelerated way that involved wooing, teasing, and palpable passion.

“Lady Cheeky” is her Anglophile cybersex identity name, where she is a servant/vessel/wench. We met on the floor at Marilyn Friedman’s essay writing workshop, which I signed up for during a dark time. After dozens of agent rejections flooded my inbox for over a year, I longed to sit in a room with other writers again, hoping to inject my writing with joy by learning new literary tricks from veteran journalist, Taffy Brodesser-Akner. Our assignment was to tell the group what our essay was about and then say one more line declaring what our essay was “really” about.

Lady Cheeky’s wavy, Lucille Ball hair matched her bright red lips. Her curves punched out of her ’40s frock, as she told a hilarious topsy-turvy tale about role-playing on a True Blood-themed, Twitter-based direct message and tweet stream, which led her to start her smart and sexy websites where she met “Lord Byron,” hired a P.I. to check another lover out, and divorced her husband. She also overcame a rare sexual disorder; started a popular sensual images blog; began writing and publishing real-life erotica based on her new, passion-filled experiences; is in the process of working on a memoir; has a new story in Rachel Kramer Bussel’s upcoming erotica anthology, The Big Book of Orgasm; and is currently speaking about body image and sensuality, as well as integrative sensuality.

Lady Cheeky’s story beneath the story was flesh and bone ache deriving from a phantom limb that was pummeled awake by HBO’s True Blood series. I wanted to know more about how True Blood was the springboard to becoming a sexually actualized woman, capable and deserving of passion.

… To read the rest of the interview, CLICK HERE:logo-sm

Apr 052013
 
Cheeky-480x640px

BY   Orginally appeared on TheRumpus.net   on  4/5/13

Tweet sex sites are a many splendored thing, opening doors to fluid identities that are both sexy and risk-free while erecting an emotional firewall to avoid real, personal rejection. My hackles go up whenever I think about technology replacing human touch, but when I met Lady Cheeky and heard her story of seeking and finding passion via tweet sex, I witnessed a brave new world where one woman’s sexuality was accessed in an accelerated way that involved wooing, teasing, and palpable passion.

“Lady Cheeky” is her Anglophile cybersex identity name, where she is a servant/vessel/wench. We met on the floor at Marilyn Friedman’s essay writing workshop, which I signed up for during a dark time. After dozens of agent rejections flooded my inbox for over a year, I longed to sit in a room with other writers again, hoping to inject my writing with joy by learning new literary tricks from veteran journalist, Taffy Brodesser-Akner. Our assignment was to tell the group what our essay was about and then say one more line declaring what our essay was “really” about.

Lady Cheeky’s wavy, Lucille Ball hair matched her bright red lips. Her curves punched out of her ’40s frock, as she told a hilarious topsy-turvy tale about role-playing on a True Blood-themed, Twitter-based direct message and tweet stream, which led her to start her smart and sexy websites where she met “Lord Byron,” hired a P.I. to check another lover out, and divorced her husband. She also overcame a rare sexual disorder; started a popular sensual images blog; began writing and publishing real-life erotica based on her new, passion-filled experiences; is in the process of working on a memoir; has a new story in Rachel Kramer Bussel’s upcoming erotica anthology, The Big Book of Orgasm; and is currently speaking about body image and sensuality, as well as integrative sensuality.

Lady Cheeky’s story beneath the story was flesh and bone ache deriving from a phantom limb that was pummeled awake by HBO’s True Blood series. I wanted to know more about how True Blood was the springboard to becoming a sexually actualized woman, capable and deserving of passion.

… To read the rest of the interview, CLICK HERE:logo-sm

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