His Bloody Valentine

***This is an off-schedule, bonus post – a Hallowe’en treat from me to you.***

Unlike most women, I enjoy getting my period. I love the fullness of my breasts, my heightened sense of smell, and the hormone-induced, drowsy inertia that overcomes me when I fall asleep. I even welcome the dull, aching pain in my uterus and ovaries: It compels me to acknowledge that I have a body.

Best of all, though, is the sight of fresh, bright-red blood against creamy white porcelain – right before the clear toilet water dilutes it....

Riding the Second Wave

I’m one of those aesthetically minded readers who always judges a book by its cover. In this case, my vintage edition of The Female Eunuch was just begging to be handled on account of the provocative, trompe-l’œil image of a bodysuit gracing its front cover.

In spite of PC’s repeated praise of Germaine Greer’s writing style, it was the picture that finally won me over: It reminded me of the Jean-Paul Gaultier second-skin dresses I visited recently at the Montréal Museum of Fine Arts.

Guys, if you’re afraid of the “f” word (i.e., “feminism”) ‘cause you think that the writer of said type of book is out to cut your dick off, take heart. Greer actually bitch-slaps women for being patsies, or what she defines as “female eunuchs.”

Inside Le Celeste: The End of an Era

It pains me to put fingers to keyboard to type this: PC and I are done with Le Céleste – at least for now. Ever since our last visit on that fateful Thanksgiving Sunday, I’ve been mulling over our disappointment with the club, trying to identify the root cause of our discontent. 

Torn between two play choices for that night – “Public Disgrace” at L’Orage or “Belles en Blanc” at Le Céleste – PC and I chose to go to “Belles en Blanc.” Motivated by two parts nostalgia and one part denial, we entertained high hopes of reliving the euphoric flash-fucking evening we had the privilege of experiencing last summer at the old Céleste’s “Belles en Blanc” Labor Day party. Contrary to our expectations, however, this year we ended up leaving before midnight. Frustrated and confused, we hit a Plateau diner to discuss the postmortem on our half-baked night out. 

Born this Way: Profile of a Montreal Nomo ("Swinger") Couple

Were PC and I born this way? Are swingers* hardwired to be sexually non-monogamous? I am neither a psychologist nor a research chair in human genetics, so I’m not qualified to weigh in on the academic side of this debate.** My personal experience is the sole basis from which I can draw any conclusions.

I’ve been in both sexually exclusive and sexually open long-term relationships. The bottom line? For me, sexual non-monogamy feels right: It makes the most sense from a visceral, affective, and intellectual standpoint. 

This Just In: Where to Go Tonight

My two fave Montreal swinger clubs are each hosting what promise to be deliciously decadent, albeit radically different, sex parties. I'm torn -- I can't decide between wanting to wear a delightfully skimpy white dress, or wanting to get laced into a black corset, complete with garters and fishnets. What do you think? (It's been a while since PC had the pleasure of yanking on my leash in public....) I guess it all hinges on my mood later tonight. :)

Inside Le Celeste: Flash Fucking Catch & Release

This one goes out to couples planning on visiting Le Celeste on a Saturday night!  

Wanna know what it takes to be smooth operators, gracefully moving from one hookup to the next without coming off looking like two douche bags? 

This post will give you pointers on how to become pros at flash fucking. I’ll walk you through the A-B-Cs of how to pick up other couples, negotiate boundaries, and let’em down easy so you can maintain your hot couple status and up your play time.