Liz Everly's Blog, page 70

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

We’re in the final gasp of 2015 rushing straight into Christmas Week and then right on into the New Year. Here at Lady Smut, we’re taking our customary break from posting next week to gorge ourselves on unhealthy things, write until our fingers fall off, and go see Star Wars: The Force Awakens over and over and over again.

Though, that may just be me.

This time of year is often when people find themselves catching up on things even as they’re inspired to look back at the time that’s just gone by way too fast. Why not do both? Here are links to a few of my favorite posts in 2015 for you to catch up and reflect on.

Writing Through Depression: a post about a workshop I attended this year at the RWA National Conference about, you guessed it, writing through depression. Truth in advertising.

Fellow Lady Smut blogger, Alexa Day, and I didn’t see eye to eye on this year’s Magic Mike XXL movie, but that’s what makes it all so grand. Here were my thoughts about how the movie supersizes a woman’s pleasure.

Contraception in romance: mood killer or a must see? Check out Gloving up in Romance.

Cara McKenna’s fantastic novel Hard Time had me musing on the Lost Art of Love Letters.

Pen names are merely part of the business of publishing, right? ?

Be sure to come back to Lady Smut in 2016 for all new posts on all sorts of naughty things!

A wish for a happy and health and safe holiday season to you and all whom you love.

Sexy Saturday Round Up

Stuff those stockings with care, Kittens! This is our last Sexy Saturday Round Up for 2015.  We’ll see you back after the new year — in the meantime enjoy this weekend’s scintillating offerings of sex, smut, and gender across the globe:

Make this at your office party: a cocktail called Sign Up For My Boozeletter

Meanwhile, keep calm and party on: Here is your office party disaster recovery plan.

Watch out for this little worm that helps you get pregnant.

What if you try it with a girl? 

Back to the future — stunning futuristic romance covers from the 90’s.

It’s Tarzan with fangs! Ahhhhhh-ah-ah-ahhhhhhhhhhh! Alexsander Skarsgard and his long lean torso are in a new movie.

Just say no to thongs! 

It’s a hard life for a warrior maid.  Meanwhile, the bear gets its own trailer.

From Bust mag: Is an open relationship right for you?

How evil are you? A quiz for your least favorite person. 

These women are desperate NOT to have children.

Yay! The End of Female Mutilation in Nigeria.

So retro it hurts.  Anyone remember tupperware parties?

How To Use a Vibrator To Get a Better Buzz.

Young, black, and geeky. 

A few words from the guy who provides ‘happy ending’ massages to women.

 

 

 

Getting naked on the page about my sex life in 2015

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

I wrote more published words this year than I ever have in my life, so taking stock of my sex writing in 2015 feels a little daunting. But when I do, a theme emerges: radical honesty.

Since my teen years in high school, when I was still a virgin, I’ve always written about myself, and felt no shame in doing so. When I started having sex and, a few years later, using sex toys, writing about that seemed like a natural segue. That hasn’t changed even though I’m now 40.

I will admit that over the last just-about-four years of dating my current boyfriend, I’ve had to reconsider my commitment to writing about my sexuality, because most of the time, that involves writing about him too. It’s a tricky balance, especially when one person (me!) pretty much doesn’t believe in TMI (too much information) and the other is extremely private. In such a situation, of course there have to be compromises.

For instance: my guy did a photo shoot with me on my birthday for a New York Post article on couples who sleep in separate bedrooms. I think he may have even enjoyed it, but when we got the full-color printed version of the newspaper, he could hardly stand to see himself in it. It’s not his thing, but he did it for me anyway. Yes, he’s a keeper.

One of the reasons I fell in love with him and remain both in love with him and proud to have him as my partner is that my guy gives me carte blanche to write about my life, even the parts of it he’d rather I kept to myself, and that includes our sex life. The freedom to explore and learn and grow and, yes, further my writing career, has meant the world to me. The way my mind works is that I can’t really know myself until I’ve written down whatever I’m thinking. I’ve been that way for as long as I can remember, and I don’t think that will change.

When I teach workshops about how to write about your sex life, I try to instill in my students the belief that they own their story. That doesn’t mean that you should be using someone else’s full name and extremely detailed description, but that you shouldn’t feel guilty for telling your truth. I also ask them to think about why they are writing; what purpose do they want their intimate tale to serve?

It’s a question I’ve asked myself often over the years, and what I’ve discovered is that it’s not just about being an exhibitionist via words. It’s about connecting with other people, sharing something that, while it may not be explicitly educational, makes them feel as if they know a little bit about me and perhaps, in turn, know, or find out through introspection, a little more about themselves. I write about my sex life because I want to demystify sex and because I gain insights into my own life.

One reason knowing why you’re writing is so important is that then you know how to separate yourself, as a person, from who you see on the page. For example, I wrote a short essay about my sex life for the October 2015 issue of O, The Oprah Magazine, about how my boyfriend and I schedule sex, and that we do it in one main position. This felt risky for me, because even though I still identify as kinky and put out a new book of BDSM erotica, Dirty Dates, this year, I felt like I was implying that I’m as basic as you can get in the bedroom.

Then I pushed myself a little bit more: why exactly did I care what anyone else thinks about my sex life, which exists only between my boyfriend and me? Yes, I may have admitted that I use lube every single time I have sex and detailed exactly how we use a Liberator wedge pillow during sex, but that doesn’t take away the specialness of what we do in bed.

photo via Liberator.com (no, I don’t look quite like that when I’m using one of these)

I’m not arguing that everyone should or wants to be as transparent about their sexuality as I am. Many of us channel aspects of our personal lives into our fiction (though please, please, please don’t ever assume when you’re reading romance or erotica that it’s based on real life; if you wouldn’t make those assumptions about a murder mystery, don’t make them about sex in fiction). But I think some people were simply born to be literary exhibitionists. For some of us, writing about our naked, raw, unfiltered sexuality is as natural as breathing.

The trick, I’ve found, is that no matter how personal I get, it doesn’t mean that I’ve revealed 100% of myself for anyone else. I haven’t even revealed 100% of myself to myself, which is why life remains interesting and I have new things to write about. What’s “too personal” to one writer might be no big deal to another. For instance, writing about trying to get pregnant feels more revealing to me than the mechanics of how I fuck. Yet that article on baby-making sex is one of the ones I’m most proud of from 2015, because I got to talk to people about a topic that is often shrouded in mystery. It’s assumed that, well, you know what to do, and you just do more of it at the right time and voila, you’re parents. For some of us, that’s not so easy, and can cause strain in a relationship. That’s perhaps the less “sexy” side of sex, but still an interesting one. I’d love to read about that in a romance (if you know of romances that deal with fertility issues in a tasteful way, I’d love to hear about them!).

On a less personal and more political note, I wrote about why the whole “dad bod” notion leaves out sexy fat guys, and why that’s a problem. I’m tired of the equation of “thin” with “sexy,” when it comes to both men and women. Yes, Fashion Santa, the 51-year-old male model who’s posing for selfies at a Canadian mall, has caused a sensation this Christmas season, but when we only fetishize thin men or women, we leave so many people out of the equation.

In case you missed them, here at Lady Smut, I wrote about why silver foxes are sexy (and that it’s okay to have the hots for someone literally twice your age), the human side of sex dolls, and offered up a moving-themed erotica story inspired by the fact that in January, I’ll have moved four times in four years!

My “getting naked” in this post’s title isn’t just about sex writing, though. It’s about being true to ourselves. This year, I discovered podcasts (I know, what took me so long, right?) and they have become a major part of my life. One of my favorite podcasters, Tiffany Han of Raise Your Hand. Say Yes., asked some very important questions in a recent blog post, including, “What would happen if you honored yourself and your own opinions as much as you honor everyone else’s?”

What does that have to do with sex, and romance, and writing? Everything. You don’t have to agree with me, or any other writer, or your friends, family, lover(s), coworkers, etc., in order to contribute to the conversation. Your words don’t have to look like anyone else’s or conform to known categories or types or fetishes. You might be inspired by role models or mentors, or you might choose to strike out on your own path. My 2015 takeaway: whatever route you choose, go for it wholeheartedly. Believe in your vision, your dream, your talent, yourself. If I’ve learned anything about the world, it’s that people will appreciate you offering a version of you that’s real.

Sexy Geeky Goodness: 5 Great Reads for the Holidays

Wanna show me your light saber, big boy?

by Madeline Iva

Hello, my pretties! With the holidays comes the new Star Wars movie. This movie franchise spawned a new era for geeks across the land. Talk about “A New Hope”. With the dawn of Star Wars Geeks found their pride and a sense of belonging–even if it was to a galaxy far, far away.  This is when geeks planted their freak flag in the quivering materialistic flesh of the eighties and we’ve never been the same since.

Star Wars came out in ’77 and became a phenomenon. Empire Strikes Back came out in 1980 and became a way of life.  Trekkie fans, always lurking in the counter-cultural backwaters, suddenly found their mojo too.  No more kicking sand in the face of your introverted, technically inclined. Computers started popping up across universities, banks started using banking cards, (I know, I know, it’s hard to imagine not having a bank card isn’t it?) and games started coming with batteries. We suddenly had computers everywhere, and needed people to program them, fix them, but most of all, explain them to us.

We here at Lady Smut are all for the good side of geekiness–especially, in it’s hotter, intelligent, and more sensitive incarnations.  If you have embraced your inner geek–or, hey, maybe the outer geek lying in bed right next to you–then here are five wonderful recommendations for the holidays that you’ll probably enjoy verrrah much.

The Rosie Project: A Novel

Click to buy.

The Rosie Project: A NovelTHE ROSIE PROJECT:

A methodical aspergers savant uses a scientific approach when lookin’ for love. Hilarity ensues.

This a great gift for the person in your life who is geek-positive, but is otherwise gift challenged. While this book is indeed a romance, it’s very much along the lines of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-TimeTHE CURIOUS INCIDENT OF THE DOG IN THE NIGHT TIME — another great book for that hard to shop for person in your life.  I HIGHLY RECOMMEND IT.  It’s appropriate for men, for grandparents or teens–for anybody with a sense of humor who would enjoy a light read.

Geekness comes in a wide variety of romance flavors.  Here are a few other recommendations for romances with a geeky hero.

Crazy, Sexy, Ghoulish: A Halloween RomanceCRAZY, SEXY, GHOULISH by G.G. Andrew

A former mean girl who’s embraced her inner monster encounters the now-totally-hot geek she used to torment.

Crazy, Sexy, Ghoulish: A Halloween Romance

Click to buy.

I’m sticking this at the top of the list, not just because it’s another book that you could share with whomever in your life appreciates that Buffy world of New Adult without blushing, but also because it was one of my two top favorite reads this year.   It’s sexy and charming, but on the sweeter side when it comes to the smexy.  Our geeky hero is a worthy catch, and the heroine a force to be reckoned.  This is a story I’ll be re-reading for sure.  It takes place at Halloween time, so it’s a perfect palate cleanser for those already in saccharine Xmas overload.

How to Tell a Lie (Truth & Lies Book 1)HOW TO TELL A LIE by Delphine Dryden

Two people bonded in a world-of-warcraft relationship realize they’ve been working within sight of each other the whole time.  After getting sexually intimate online, they see if they can handle face to face romance. 

How to Tell a Lie (Truth & Lies Book 1)

Click to buy.

If hot academic geek romance is your thing (it’s definitely mine), you’ll really like this quick, enjoyable, well-written romance.

Ice Planet Barbarians: A SciFi Alien RomanceICE PLANET BARBARIANS by Ruby Dixon

Kidnapped by evil aliens and shipwrecked on an ice planet, the heroine is saved from death by a big furry blue hero who experiences insta-lurv for her.  Hot sex follows.  

Ice Planet Barbarians: A SciFi Alien Romance

Click to buy.

Barbarella meets Earth Girls Are Easy in this light s/f romance series.  Quick and heartfelt–what I enjoyed most about Dixon’s story is the troubles-with-tribbles kind of fun in a baby-it’s-cold-outside world.

The ProfessorTHE PROFESSOR by Charlotte Stein

A professor provokes his precocious college student after she accidentally turns in a filthy sexual fantasy about the two of them instead of her home work assignment.

The Professor

Click to buy.

A bit more of a broody read than the others, I could not help imagining Matthew McFayden in this role.  Our hero is literally buttoned up, with a passionate, seething inner world of Big Sad, that comes bubbling out as he finds love for the first time.

Enjoy! And follow us at Lady Smut for more geeky fun in the New Year.

 

Sexy Geeky Goodness: 4 Great Reads for the Holidays

Wanna show me your light saber, big boy?

by Madeline Iva

Hello, my pretties! With the holidays comes the new Star Wars movie, and old Star Wars memories. I get the idea that this movie franchise spawned a new era for geeks across the land.  Talk about “A New Hope”. This was the moment when the cult of geekness in America came out of the closet. This was when Geeks found their pride and a sense of belonging–even if it was to a galaxy far, far away.  This is when geeks planted their freak flag in the quivering materialistic flesh of the eighties and we’ve never been the same since.

Though Star Wars came out in ’77 and became a phenomenon, Empire Strikes Back came out in 1980 and became a way of life.  I this is when trekkie fans, always lurking in the counter-cultural backwaters, suddenly found their mojo too.  No more kicking sand in the face of your introverted, technically inclined. Computers started popping up across universities, banks started using banking cards, games started coming with batteries. (I know, I know, it’s hard to imagine not having a bank card isn’t it?) We suddenly had computers everywhere, needed people to program them, fix them, and most of all, explain them to us.

We here at Lady Smut are all for the good side of geekiness–at least, in it’s hotter, intelligent, and more sensitive incarnations.  If you have embraced your inner geek–or, hey, maybe the outer geek lying in bed right next to you–and lurv all that is good and geeky in romance, then here are four wonderful recommendations for the holidays that you’ll probably enjoy verrrah much.

The Rosie Project: A Novel

Click to buy.

The Rosie Project: A NovelTHE ROSIE PROJECT:

A methodical aspergers savant uses a scientific approach when lookin’ for love. Hilarity ensues.

This a great gift for the person in your life who is geek-positive, but is otherwise gift challenged. While this book is indeed a romance, it’s very much along the lines of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-TimeTHE CURIOUS INCIDENT OF THE DOG IN THE NIGHT TIME — another great book for that hard to shop for person in your life.  I HIGHLY RECOMMEND IT.  It’s appropriate for men, for grandparents or teens–for anybody with a sense of humor who would enjoy a light read.

Geekness comes in a wide variety of romance flavors.  Here are a few other recommendations for romances with a geeky hero.

Crazy, Sexy, Ghoulish: A Halloween RomanceCRAZY, SEXY, GHOULISH by G.G. Andrew

A former mean girl who’s embraced her inner monster encounters the now-totally-hot geek she used to torment.

Crazy, Sexy, Ghoulish: A Halloween Romance

Click to buy.

I’m sticking this at the top of the list, not just because it’s another book that you could share with whomever in your life appreciates that Buffy world of New Adult without blushing, but also because it was one of my two top favorite reads this year.   It’s sexy and charming, but on the sweeter side when it comes to the smexy.  Our geeky hero is a worthy catch, and the heroine a force to be reckoned.  This is a story I’ll be re-reading for sure.  It takes place at Halloween time, so it’s a perfect palate cleanser for those already in saccharine Xmas overload.

How to Tell a Lie (Truth & Lies Book 1)HOW TO TELL A LIE by Delphine Dryden

Two people bonded in a world-of-warcraft relationship realize they’ve been working within sight of each other the whole time.  After getting sexually intimate online, they see if they can handle face to face romance. 

How to Tell a Lie (Truth & Lies Book 1)

Click to buy.

If hot academic geek romance is your thing (it’s definitely mine), you’ll really like this quick, enjoyable, well-written romance.

Ice Planet Barbarians: A SciFi Alien RomanceICE PLANET BARBARIANS by Ruby Dixon

Kidnapped by evil aliens and shipwrecked on an ice planet, the heroine is saved from death by a big furry blue hero who experiences insta-lurv for her.  Hot sex follows.  

Ice Planet Barbarians: A SciFi Alien Romance

Click to buy.

Barbarella meets Earth Girls Are Easy in this light s/f romance series.  Quick and heartfelt–what I enjoyed most about Dixon’s story is the troubles-with-tribbles kind of fun in a baby-it’s-cold-outside world.

The ProfessorTHE PROFESSOR by Charlotte Stein

A professor provokes his precocious college student after she accidentally turns in a filthy sexual fantasy about the two of them instead of her home work assignment.

The Professor

Click to buy.

A bit more of a broody read than the others, I could not help imagining Matthew McFayden in this role.  Our hero is literally buttoned up, with a passionate, seething inner world of Big Sad, that comes bubbling out as he finds love for the first time.

Enjoy! And follow us at Lady Smut for more geeky fun in the New Year.

 

Lost Ipad And Dildos. A Christmas Story.

Hi, Frank!

By Elizabeth Shore

Like most New Yorkers, I spend a lot of time on trains. Despite the downside – your butt against the crotch of someone you’ve never met – it’s the best way to get around this densely packed city. But frequently there’s not even an inch of spare room so on commuter trains you’re forced to put your stuff in overhead racks. But this is a Danger Zone! Because as easy as it is to shove bulky items up there and out of the way, it’s even easier to walk off the crowded train and be blissfully unaware that you’ve forgotten your stuff.

This happened to me a couple of months ago. I had a black canvas bag I’d bought on a trip to Vienna – a souvenir in and of itself – that I used to tote my iPad. I got on a packed train, bemoaning the fact that I was going to have to stand, when in the distance I spotted a free seat. I dashed for it like a musical chairs contestant and wedged my way in. Joy! But I had my purse with me – vast space hog that it is – and my Vienna bag. Deciding I didn’t need the iPad for the ride, up to the rack iPad and bag went. And there they stayed.

I didn’t realize I’d forgotten the bag until I got home. Oh, the despair! Berating my forgetfulness ten ways to Sunday, I filed a lost claims with NYC Transit and crossed my fingers. Truthfully, I was sure both were a goner. A week later, having not heard a thing, I went to the lost and found “just in case.” You know, in case there was a miracle, my bag was returned, and someone had just forgotten to call me. It was an adventure for sure. Boxes and boxes and boxes of stuff. Lost phones and lost Blackberries and lost umbrellas, on my! Enough to supply the entire country. With a heart full of skepticism, I inquired from the woman behind the counter if there’d been any news of my lost bag. She disappeared into the Giant Room of Stuff, was gone for several minutes, and returned empty handed. Curses! The result I’d dreaded. Turning to leave I told her I hadn’t really expected it – my iPad was in there after all – and then she gave me a look. “Hold on,” she said, and disappeared again. This time she returned seconds later, and this time she had my bag. And my iPad. They’d been locked in a safe, which is why she didn’t find them the first time she looked. Whoo-hoo!!

I was absolutely, astoundingly elated. Someone had turned it in. A good, kind soul found my bag and turned it in. Of course, it could have been the conductor who found it, but I prefer to think it was upright, honest New Yorker.

Yet the tale doesn’t end here. Fast forward to last week, Thursday night. I’m with a friend, in a bar. I have my purse, and my Vienna bag, iPad safely tucked away inside it. You know where this is going, right? Of course you do. I’m meeting another friend in another bar later, and suddenly I realize I’m late. Coat, scarf, gloves, purse. Bag is, once more, forgotten about. It’s déja vous all over again, and this time there’s a twist. Because the thing is, I don’t actually remember where my bag is. I don’t realize until I’m home that I’ve lost it, and then I can’t remembe where. I could have left it at work. I could have left it in bar 1. Or I could have left it in bar 2. Naturally I call around, but no one’s seen it. Argh!!!!! I can’t believe it! Am I really that careless? WTF is wrong with me? It’s a devastating feeling. I’m such a chump.

But here’s the happy ending part. On Saturday I received a call from a guy named Frank. He said he was in possession of a black canvas bag that says Vienna on it with an iPad inside. He’d found it at a bar and wanted to know if it was mine. I joyfully squealed. It is! But how did you find me? Well, said Frank, there was a receipt inside the bag for some items I’d recently purchased at a Passion Party. It had my cell phone number on it. So ….

Right. So. So Frank knew I was at a party where dildos a’plenty were for sale. And that I was the kind of girl who did that. But Frank? He’s as unjudgmental as they come. He’s just a guy, a kind New Yorker, who’d found a bag and returned it to its owner. And me? I’m a happy New Yorker who’s really, really thankful she went to that Passion Party. And who’s really really happy to have her bag and iPad back (again). Who believes in the kindness of strangers, who wants to do the same in return, and who vows to staple her bag to her forehead whenever she leaves home.

So, friends. That’s a Christmas story for you. Lady Smut style.

 

 

Readers, Consider This Gift for the Writer Who Has Everything

Heat Miser knows you can’t stop singing his song.

By Alexa Day

This is supposed to be a joyous time of year.

No matter which winter holiday you call your own, this season is supposed to be marked by generosity and kindness and anticipation and excitement.

Because we’re close, you all and I, I feel I can tell you that this most of this holiday season has fallen short of expectations.

I don’t want to look too hard at current events, but the news lately is filled with non-joyous thoughts.

Honestly, I’m surprised by how many people seem determined to go out of their way to rub their special brand of bullshit over the joyous holiday season. Tough to remember you’re supposed to be happy when you’re faced with current events.

Television is my only oasis. Television and I have big plans between right now and the new year, friends. Right now, while my regular shows are taking some time off, I’ve got the venerable Rankin-Bass Christmas specials to occupy my time. Rudolph and Yukon Cornelius and all the various incarnations of Santa Claus are sometimes the only way I know Christmas is coming.

The Year Without a Santa Claus is one of my favorites. Most of you who remember it know it because of the Miser Brothers, Heat Miser and Snow Miser. But there are a couple of other gems, too. “It’s Gonna Snow Right Here in Dixie” usually sticks in my head for days. “I Could Be Santa Claus,” a number in which Mrs. Claus says she could do her husband’s job, definitely holds new relevance for modern viewers. And I absolutely love the duet, “I Believe in Santa Claus,” in which a young boy’s father explains that one is never too old for Christmas magic.

The gist of the story is simple enough. Sidelined by a cold and reassured by his cynical doctor that no one cares about Christmas anymore, Santa wonders if he can take the year off. Would anyone miss him? Does anyone even believe in Santa anymore?

In the special, Mrs. Claus, two elves, and all the children of the world prove that they can manage the business of Christmas without Santa’s intervention. He can have that year off. And so he spends his holiday a bit out of sorts. The toy shop is quiet. The reindeer are asleep.

He’s well rested, but now he has a new question.

If Christmas isn’t obsolete, is he?

Into this self-doubt, a cute little stop-motion bird delivers a letter. I’m not going to embed it here, but have a look at it over on the YouTube.

Christmas is possible without Santa Claus, it seems. But it is far more pleasant with him.

This isn’t what I came to talk about. I came to suggest a gift for your writer friends.

Your writer friends are probably spending this year reflecting on their successes and making plans to set the world on fire next year. At least, that’s what I hope they’re doing. Some of us are coming to the end of an “interesting” year and wondering if next year will be even more “interesting.” As I sat in front of the TV — or next to it, since my TV is still teetering on the edge of the couch — I found that my heart was with Santa. Would anyone notice if I hit the pause button? Just to step back for a while? Try something with a regular paycheck and real benefits?

Anybody out there?

Where am I going with this?

A lot of writers — not all of us, but more than you suspect — ask themselves regularly whether the world at large would give a single damn if we stopped writing altogether. The business of publishing would continue without us. Books would come out and people would read them. Hell, we’d read them.

Are we necessary? Are we obsolete? Were we ever relevant?

We need the little stop-motion bird with that letter.

We need you.

Santa was nearly convinced that Christmas would be just fine without him … right up until one voice, a single plea, said otherwise. “You matter. You are important. You would be missed.”

Writers are the same way.

Your words, either in a review or in an email or on social media or by cute little stop-motion bird, matter more than we can say. The message that takes just a few minutes matters a hell of a lot.

The review that tells the world how much a story meant to you. The Facebook post that invites your friends to tag an author everyone should try. The email that says you’re looking forward to our next work and asks when it will be available.

That message — the one that says we are heard, that we matter, that we would be missed if we did something sensible like find a so-called real job to take seriously — that’s a big deal.

It means someone does care if we ever put out another story.

Someone does care.

It only takes a few minutes to tell a writer you care, and you just might be the voice that person needs to hear at that moment.

And you have a few minutes, right?

Follow Lady Smut. If you play your cards right, we’ll tell you how to get the Miser Brothers’ song out of your head.

The First Time

The last few days have had a couple of firsts for me–my first real contacts and my first wireless printer (successfully installed and set up by moi, by the way. Yes, you may marvel. I sure as hell did.) As I adjusted to the first and swore repeatedly over the second, I alternatively felt moments of accomplishment in these mundane tasks. No matter how common among other people, when a thing or an experience is new, figuring it out feels damn satisfying, whether it’s successfully inserting and removing contacts or the whorls and spools of that first page off the printer. Damn skippy.

Funnily  enough, I read three stories this weekend with first times: a contemporary with a virgin heroine, another contemporary heroine (by the same author) who’d never had an orgasm during sex (until many were provided by the hero, natch), and a historical novella with a virgin heroine and hero (bit of a unicorn there, especially in historicals) who experience their first time together.

Bless.

Virgin heroines are increasingly unusual in contemporary romances. The sexier the story, the more experience the heroine is likely to have. Old skool romance novels practically traded on the heroine’s inexperience, a trope that allowed the rake or scoundrel of a hero to come to heel as he initiated his virgin in the rapturous ways of his mighty wang. These days, as heroines in all genres are more and more infused with feminist principles–aka the self-rescuing heroine et al–virginity is less and less prized between the pages. Mostly because it’s less and less valued in our society and books, like TV and movies and magazines and any other reflector of society’s morals or lack thereof, are the ways by which these changes are tracked and explored and, often, exposed.

Sexual experience from as early as young adulthood is such an expected, common thing that the idea of anyone “holding out” is quite startling. We’re saturated with sexual images; “sex sells” everything ergo we all must be having sex. People (and characters) tend to hide their virgin status carefully to avoid ridicule. And let’s face it, it’s still usually women who maintain virgin status into adulthood as the slurs of “slut” and “whore” for any girl or woman with sexual experience are the more common response while boys or men are crowned as “studs”.

Yet for both sexes, there’s something precious in preserving that last barrier to adulthood, waiting not for a spouse or in order to stay “pure,” but to find a partner worthy of breaching that threshold. Charging not into the sexual morass to get rid of a pesky barrier, but valuing oneself enough to make sure the experience isn’t wasted on an easy lay or a drunken frat boy (for example). Preserving one’s virginity can be a valued choice (and not only one due to lack of opportunity) not as a reflector of a “good” character within, but rather an insistence on making a damn good first choice. Perhaps even hold out for a hero…

I don’t know that I’ll ever write a contemporary virgin heroine, but I do know that valuing and honoring that status is important in fiction and real life. We treasure all kinds of first times. The first time on an airplane. The first time at the Grand Canyon (Boy. Howdy.). The first taste of snow every winter. The first dip in an ocean. The first plunge of a knife into a new jar of peanut butter (though that may just be me). Treasure this one too.

What was your favorite first time, sexual or otherwise?

Follow Lady Smut. You’ll never forget our first time.

Sexy Saturday Round Up

Ho-ho-di-hodi-ho! It’s December and we’re getting our Christmas tree this weekend.  Time to start off with good cheer, dear readers, and some local organic nog.  Add to that some Saturday links to all things smexy, strange, and gender-ific from the world at large and you’re all set to deck the halls with holly.

From Madeline:

Hot Holiday Sex Confessions from Cosmo.

Like Jessica Jones? Like Scottish accents? David Tennant is charming as f*** in this interview talking about playing the show’s villain.

From Glamour: really great Naughty-but-nice gift ideas –but you probably won’t put the under the family tree.

Take this sexual personality test from Psychology Today.

The pentagon is finally allowing women in combat roles.

From G.G. Andrew:

How do classic love stories differ from other books? Check out these charts analyzing the great love stories, from Jane Eyre to The Scarlett Letter.

Just in time for the holidays: the weird theory that Home Alone was a prequel to Saw. That kid was a little crafty…

It’s time to shop. Check out 33 Gifts For Anyone Who Loves Cheese More Than People.

From Elizabeth Shore:

Romantic winter getaways, according to men. Oahu, anyone?

No matter what you’re doing, here’s how you can do it and be sexy.

Stay calm and shop, and get ideas from this U.K. gift guide.

Don’t just get sex, get the exact sex you want.

 

 

Why should girls have all the fun?

by Isabelle Drake

 

Eight things that make us happy:

Shiny garlands.
Bright, sparkly stars.
Holidays.
Festive pictures.
Fun.
Silliness.
A hot guy.
A sense of humor.

So if we mixed that altogether, the effect would be happiness and lots of it.

Right?

So, um…what about this?  It has all that. It has a hot (hot enough) guy. It has sparkles. It certainly has a great sense of humor. (And right about now, I’m thinking that I do too.)

Everyone who knows me, knows I love vintage pin-ups. I love that sweet sexiness that often is portrayed with a sense of fun and silliness. This picture begs the question, can men be pin-ups too? Not sure this pic alone is enough to consider? How about these?

What do you think Lady Smutters?? Hot or Not?

Give us a shout in the comments.

Click me to buy me.

 

Here’s something everyone will agree is hot. This cover and the book inside it, Elizabeth SaFleur’s steamy BDSM, UNTOUCHABLE. Out now!

Get your copy, be merry, and–of course–come back to Lady Smut for non-stop awesome.