Cupcake butt plug and Shilo. The cliché is true — it feels like just yesterday and like forever ago. This week marks 10 years since I first published a review of a sex toy on the internet. It was fall 2007, my junior year of college. That summer, I’d moved out of the dorms and into my first apartment. I was 20 years old, almost 21. If you’d asked me what my career was going to be, I would’ve hesitated and posited, “…writer? I hope?” A cautious optimism underneath which lied a practical fear. A fear that I could never make a living with writing, that I’d end up in an office job, probably, and that the only skill I’d spent my . . . read more

I never know my name anymore. A few months ago, I was at sex educator friend’s party getting high out of a homemade bong and listening to Dark Side of the Moon. It was the most high school moment of my life — particularly so because, aside from meeting boys off the internet in mall parking garages, I never did anything terribly forbidden in high school. Amidst dramatic readings of Sextrology and attempts at acting out #buttstuff in charades, a woman I’d never met arrived at the party and asked my name. As I often do these days, I hesitated. The same thing happened at the airport coming home from Woodhull, when the restaurant hostess asked for a name to reserve a table. It happened when I . . . read more

Sex toy temporary tattoos and the lengths we go through to photograph them. Photo by Kate Sinclaire. 7 sex bloggers were standing outside a glass blowing studio. We’d been waiting for an hour and there was no sign of the studio owners, who’d previously agreed to a private glass dildo making session. It was clear that we’d have to reschedule with them, but how? None of us wanted to pick up the phone. Finally, Girly Juice volunteered to call the studio the next day. The rest of us sighed with relief. Girly Juice thought it was funny that we kept calling her Girly Juice. But none of us could help it — and I’m sure we inadvertently scared everyone at the grocery store as . . . read more

Aerie greets me at the airport with a bouquet of hand-drawn sex toys. Eleven toys, all of them my favorites, with green pipe cleaner stems. On the romance scale, this may surpass the CD that my boyfriend made for one of our anniversaries which included a Tegan & Sara cover and 5 minutes of our cat purring into a microphone. – – – Aerie lives in a swanky condo on the third level. It has sparkling wooden floors, kitchen appliances that beep at you if you don’t do their bidding, and best of all, air conditioning. We make delicious coffee in the morning with a hand grinder and a french press. Their bed is swathed in comfy grey sheets and pillows. I feel like I’m in a . . . read more

[Edit: Although I do love these companies, this is an April Fool’s joke. GOTCHU.] Being a niche blog, and one dedicated to something that a percentage of inhabitants of earth refuse to even talk about, I’ve spent years growing relationships with companies in the adult industry alone. But a few months back, one of my friends suggested reaching out to more “mainstream” places, like those who make my favorite non-dildo products. The idea sounded just crazy enough that it might work. Heaps and heaps of emails and wishful thinking later, I’m happy (and surprised) to report that five companies have agreed to sponsor me and the orifices/appendages that are not my genitals. These things can’t give me orgasms, but they will . . . read more

[This post contains mentions of James Deen. I no longer support him or his work.] May 17th, 2013 The boyfriend went to the convenience store for beer, and Survivor was downloading at a snails’ pace, so I whipped out my Mona 2 and had the quickest orgasm before he returned. Incredibly, the toy died literal seconds after my orgasm wore off. Fate? Summer 2013 Can I just take a moment to tell you about porn I’ve seen recently that was glorious and/or weird? Because holy shit, Belladonna Sexual Explorer. I’ve realized that I always love watching Sinn Sage. She was great in Strapped Dykes, she was great in No Warning 7, she was great in Sinn Sage Loves Girls, she’s great in this, and every time . . . read more

You may have heard — I’m going to CatalystCon East again this year. What you may not know, and should know, is that the main reason I’m going is thanks to the generosity of my pals at SheVibe. They’re sponsoring me like the supportive badasses they are. Also, what you definitely don’t know is that while I’m there, I will be one of the interview subjects for Tristan Taormino’s Sex Out Loud radio show… in front of a live audience. Oh god, it is going to be terrifying and exhilarating! I’m even on another panel again this time, but with some new friends: Queerie Bradshaw and Mona Darling. Our panel is called “The Business of Blogging About Sex” (#cconblog): In this informative . . . read more

Yes, we play with dildos, but not in the way you think… DILDO TUG OF WAR!!! A video posted by Epiphora (@heyepiphora) on Dec 27, 2013 at 9:05pm PST Yes, we ride sex machines, but it is not very sexual. I just want to share the wealth that is the Sybian, and everyone’s curious about whether it feels like $1,300 of awesome. For many of my sex blogger friends, I am given the distinct honor and privilege of controlling the dial while they ride. I can now die happy. "I feel like Howard Stern right now" –@Epiphora — JoEllen Notte (@JoEllenNotte) December 28, 2013 We all agree that there is a point, somewhere after about 60% power, where we start . . . read more

It began in the airport, with my iced coffee in tow, and two war vets grumbling to each other about Obama taking away all our guns. The flight was uneventful, save for the creeping, almost overwhelming sense of excitement and importance I was feeling — punctuated by surprisingly decent airplane coffee and one of the most beautiful 2 minutes of music ever made, Nancy Wilson’s “Cabin in the Air.” The SuperShuttle guy totally thought I was some 16-year-old loser trying to sneak into fancy hotels, but I eventually ended up at the Marriott. Just as I was settling in for some TV and a sandwich, my phone rang. It was a Goo Goo Dolls song, so I knew it was . . . read more