Vancouver
2 min

She likes it

Learning to control that strap-on

Credit: Xtra West files

I was hanging with a nice fag the other day, and he had a bit to say about how everyone knew that the “lezzie ladies” were all about the soft butterfly-kisses of oral sex. He was a bit shocked when I explained to him about many dykes’ not-at-all-secret love of things that go bump in the night.



It doesn’t always come easy. The first time I strapped on a dick I felt like a fool. It bobbed about ludicrously. The harness made my fat bulge above and below the strap line, and I felt sexy like a balloon animal with a twist in the middle-that is to say: not.



Once I climbed into bed with a willing woman, I couldn’t make the dick go in any useful direction, although god knows I tried. Either my butt or my dick (I never figured out which) kept slipping around in the harness, necessitating frequent pauses to adjust. My thigh muscles hurt in places that I’d never even felt before. My lover was patient while I figured out how to drive the damn thing, yet she giggled a bit much for my suddenly (mysteriously) fragile ego. Every time she laughed, I wanted to go buy a red sports car.



When I dressed to go out to the dyke club while packing, my dick hung stiff and quite obscene-looking against my thigh. It wouldn’t fit into my jeans. Sweatpants were quite out of the question for aesthetic reasons, as well as for those of modesty-I mean, in loose material the thing looked like a tent-pole. And once my dick had been stuffed into leather pants and worn on the dance floor all night, my boy bits had bruised my girl bits so much that any further use of either was impossible.



Always stubborn, I persisted. I experimented with harness configurations, practiced like crazy, and nowadays my dick feels like a simple extension of my mind and body.



I love to pull my dick out of the drawer and-no, not that one, the other one. No, the one next to the red one. Yeah, the big purple one. Now, where was I? I like the snug feel of the leather harness against my skin. I like the cool Inspector Gadget-like feeling I get when presenting a lover with a plethora of dick choices. Small or tall? Thick or thin? I like the ability to extend my already complicated dyke sexuality, to use gender as a sex toy, to have my hands free when I need them most. And I like that she likes it.



That’s the very best part about this or any other kind of accessorized sex play. That she likes it.



* Elaine Miller has never grown out of liking to play with toys.