by SG’s Team Agony feat. Clio

Let us answer life’s questions – because great advice is even better when it comes from SuicideGirls.

Q:I’ve wanted to ask this so many times, but knew no women would tell me the truth unless they did not know me. I’m 27 and was born with Muscular Dystrophy. All my life I’ve asked girls out and they all said no but would lie about why, though I know it’s the chair. All I ever wanted was the truth. Women are all I can think and dream about. Every guy I ever knew, even my dad, has told me no girl would ever sleep with me unless I paid for it – and that’s if I’m lucky. I can’t take much more heartache. I need to know if all women are going to look at me the same way and just face it that its just a dream I need to get over.

A: This is a difficult question to answer, but let me start by saying FUCK what your friends and your father say. Don’t let anyone tell you that you’re any less worthy of having a girlfriend than an able-bodied person. It’s discouraging for anyone to be put down over and over again, and I honestly can’t tell you if a relationship’s in the cards for you or not, but don’t give up on your dream of finding yourself a lady. I did a quick online search on your condition and relationships, and I found plenty of stories from people with Muscular Dystrophy who are dating or even married with children. So regarding your question if all women will reject you based on your wheelchair; the answer is no. You might have to work harder at it than the average guy, but confidence and a positive attitude will significantly improve your chances of landing a date, regardless of your disability.

Good luck!

Clio
xoxox

Got Problems? Let SuicideGirls crack team of Agony Aunts provide solutions. Email questions to: gotproblems@suicidegirls.com

by Sex Toy Expert Moxi Suicide

In my ever present quest for the quintessential G-spot vibrator, I was browsing the merchandise at a local sex shop when Doc Johnson’s Harmony Slim G stopped me right in my tracks (see pic). It was 7 inches tall but only 2 inches in diameter, the head of it was curved in a perfect 45 degree angle. It looked like a sexy robot finger! Pelvis-pulsing, I plucked it off the wall of the sex shop, and the cashier rang me up and even threw in a pair of triple AAA batteries.

The Harmony Slim G is non-porous and phthalate-free so it’s safe for use internally. I’m always extra cautious when shopping for toys that I plan on using for any sort of penetration. Taking a toy out and sniffing it before you buy it is always a good idea; if a toy emits any type of plastic-y or chemical smell, it’s most likely made with phthalates and I would steer clear. (Phthalates are a chemical used to make plastic flexible and studies have shown that they may not be good for us!)

A dial on the bottom of the toy provides speed variation in the vibration, but I found it just as effective without any vibration. The slender shape and the angle of the head made finding that sensitive spot a cinch! The Slim G is also waterproof and ready to handle all fluids, bodily or otherwise. I suggest taking this toy into the shower with you for an extra steamy time.

The Slim G is like the best finger bang ever – leave everything up to leverage and play some tunes with a little rhythm (I suggest “Mr. Roboto” by Styx) and you’ll be rocking your way to squirt city in no time!

xx
Moxi

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by Laurelin

Disappointment is one of the worst feelings in the world. I vividly remember experiencing it as a little girl who so badly wanted a cat for her birthday; my parents had a huge wrapped gift on the table when I woke up, and as I tore through the paper I was so sure it must be something for my new cat. It was a birdcage, and as it took everything in me not to break down in tears. I forced a smile, and I named my first pet parakeet Buttercup.

Later on in high school I would pick out my favorite outfit just to have my crush be out sick that day. I would do something out of line at home and have my parents so upset that they weren’t even angry, just disappointed, and I wished with all my heart I could take it back but I never could.

As I get older I notice that a lot of the time the fierce optimism I associate with my bright demeanor has faded. When one always expects to be let down, it almost makes the inevitable disappointment more manageable. That guy you liked, it never would have worked out anyways. He would never like someone like you. Things would be too complicated, too messy and it’s probably better this way, even though inside I’m screaming because I want so badly for just one person to prove me wrong.

I remember the moment I realized my last relationship was over, the black cloud of disappointment just washed over me like a wave and I was shaken to the core with the realization that this was really it. I was back to being just me, not me and him. It was the day after his birthday, and we were supposed to meet for a drink at the bar we worked at. I wanted to see him so badly, our schedules were tough and we rarely had days off together. I waited…

Every time the door opened I looked, and it was never him. A lifetime spent watching the door, and he never came, my cell phone eventually glowed with a text that simply said, “I’m sorry.” I walked home and I watched the trains go by under the overpass and I knew it was over, this was the last time he would let me down.

We all have baggage. An expected crash and burn after so many before seems only right; but maybe, just maybe, this time things will be different. As someone new comes into your life, there’s that fine line between great expectations and where they’re going to fall. I can’t help but find myself waiting for a storm, holding my breath, forever waiting for disaster.

It’s exhausting and I wish for something different. Outside it starts to rain, and I quicken my pace as I head for the bar. I wonder if he’s there yet, and I wish for sun briefly before realizing I don’t even care. No matter how grey the sky becomes and how rarely the sun seems to shine, maybe I’ve been going about things all wrong. Maybe the key is just to learn to dance in the rain.

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by Fanny Merkin a.k.a. Andrew Shaffer

The following is an exclusive excerpt from Fanny Merkin’s parody novel, Fifty Shames of Earl Grey. At this point in the story, the rich, sexy tycoon, Earl Grey, has just led college student Anna Steal into his “Room of Doom”…

The first thing I notice is the smell: Nag Champa incense and dirty laundry. The room is illuminated only by black light, but I can see enough to tell this is the kind of closet R. Kelly wouldn’t mind being trapped in. The room is tiny compared to the rest of Earl Grey’s apartment. There’s barely enough room for the waterbed. Whips, chains, ropes, riding crops, paddles, and iron shackles are hung up on the walls next to black-light posters — really trippy black-light posters. Room of Doom? More like the “Dorm Room of Doom.”

I feel Earl’s hand on my left shoulder. He’s breathing into my ear. “Welcome to my world, Anna.”

“Do you bring all your dates here?”

“I don’t know if I’d call them ‘dates,’” he says. “They are, more accurately, LARPers. ‘LARP’ stands for ‘live-action role playing.’”

“If they’re not dates, then what are they? Volunteers? Where do you meet them?”

Earl picks up an impossibly large, rounded red die off the nightstand and rolls it around in his hand. “There are women who LARP professionally,” he says. “They’re all over Craigslist.”

I laugh at the thought of him trolling for women on Craigslist. Surely someone as good looking and rich as Earl Grey doesn’t need to resort to picking up girls on the Internet! “You’re kidding,” I say.

He shakes his head. “I know, it just seems so dirty to meet women on Craigslist.”

“Dirty and gross,” I say.

“It’s just one of my fifty shames, Anna,” he says, lowering his head. “You don’t know the depths of my perversion.”

I’ve already seen him at what I figured was the depth of his shame, buying a Nickelback CD. Do I want to know how deep his perversions go? “And you use these . . . things on them? You torture them?” I ask, motioning to his toys.

“If the game calls for it.”

“And who decides that?” I ask.

“I do, with a little help from my trusty D-sixty-nine,” he says, rolling the die on the nightstand. “This is a sixty-nine-sided die, Anna. As the Dungeon Master, I use it to guide the action.”

The die rolls to a stop. “So you want me to role play with you?” I ask.

“Eventually,” he says, grinning.

“What do I get out of the whole deal? I don’t know if pretending I’m an elf being whipped is really my thing.”

“I see you as more of a faery than as an elf, but we can get into specifics later. What I get out of our arrangement is you, submitting to my every whim,” he says. “And what you get is Earl Grey.”

Wow. Somebody thinks highly of themselves.

“But we can ease our way into our LARPing characters with time. I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Anna: I don’t feel the need to pretend you’re a captive orc princess in order to get off. All I know is that I need you right now — any way I can get you.”

Oh my. Earl reaches a hand out to me. I take it in mine, and he leads me to the waterbed…

Continue reading the story in Fifty Shames of Earl Grey, available in bookstores everywhere! To locate a copy near you or find one online, visit 50shames.com.

Fanny Merkin lives in a Beverly Hills mansion purchased using the embarrassingly large advance she received for Fifty Shames of Earl Grey. She is a former Walmart employee who writes under the pseudonym, “Andrew Shaffer,” for publications as diverse as Mental Floss, Maxim and SuicideGirls. Andrew Shaffer is the author of Great Philosophers Who Failed at Love. He reviews romance, erotica, and women’s fiction for RT Book Reviews magazine.

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by SG’s Team Agony feat. Smythe

Let us answer life’s questions – because great advice is even better when it comes from SuicideGirls.

Q: I have a very close friend who recently told me she was physically attracted to me, and wants to start a friends with benefits relationship. There is a lot of sexual tension between us, and although I’m very sure I won’t develop feelings for her, her friends have told me that she hopes down the line we can have a full-on relationship. I’m afraid of her developing emotional feelings, and endangering our friendship. I really love the girl and don’t want to lose her as a friend. What should I do?

A: Holy goodness, that’s a toughie. It is really awesome that you realize there may be issues with engaging in a friends with benefits (FWB) relationship. If she’s already made mention of hoping for more than just ass with you, then odds are things will get complicated. She’s going into things with hopes for more, and she will probably get attached more than is warranted in a FWB arrangement. It seems like, despite what she may say, she won’t be able to help herself from getting overly emotionally involved. At the end of a FWB relationship, depending on the kind of a person she is, it may just take a moment for her to wrap her head around the shift back to strictly friends status, but there is the possibility of her taking it hard, like a legit break up, and you may lose her as a friend.



You also don’t have to jump into the deep end with the FWB thing. Talk about it with her, express your concern about losing a friend. Probably don’t mention her friends speaking to you; let the conversation just be about you and her. Gauge her responses to your concerns, it may be clear at that point that it’s best not to go any further. If you decide to give the FWB thing a go, maybe keep it PG-13 for a bit and see if her attitude towards you shifts. I feel like a lot of people can shrug off a few make out sessions, but damage control after sex can be a bit harder.



Tread carefully, if you dare to tread at all.

Smythe

Got Problems? Let SuicideGirls’ team of Agony Aunts provide solutions. Email questions to: gotproblems@suicidegirls.com

by Bradley Suicide

I, like so many of us, grew up loving ‘80s classics. The Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink, Saint Elmo’s Fire, on and on. I could recite these movies word for word, line by line when I was growing up, and to tell you the truth, still can.

The movie that took the cake for me was, by far, Sixteen Candles. Something about it captivated me. And of course, I was enthralled with the smoldering and sexy Jake Ryan, just like almost every other girl. With that amazing bone structure and those perfectly gorgeous piercing bedroom eyes, he had my heart beating out of control (I have to pause and take a moment).

In case you live under a rock and haven’t seen Sixteen Candles, I will take this opportunity to tell you to pause your reading and pick up where you’ve left off once you have watched every amazingly corny moment of it in its entirety.

The other day this slice of ‘80s awesomeness was on TV so I flipped it on while I got ready for work. Somewhere towards the end of the movie between when Samantha’s sister is in the middle of her drug induced nuptials and when that limo pulls away revealing the ever breathtaking Jake sitting there waiting for Samantha it hit me, Jake Ryan was a douche bag.

Plain and simple.

After carefully mulling over the key moments in the film that led me to this conclusion, I was dumbfounded that it had taken me so long to realize this. Between throwing a Project X style party and destroying his parents home, being an asshole to his girlfriend, then basically pimping her out in a rufied state to some random dude he doesn’t know, and lending a kid without a license his dad’s Rolls Royce…well I am pretty sure all of that has nut sack written all over it. The cherry on top of all of it is that horrible scene where Jake and his friend appear to be doing innumerous pull-ups, only when the camera to pans out you realize that in true bro fashion they have been standing on the ground the whole time thinking they are hot shit. Watching it now, it kind of reminds me of Mike “The Situation” from Jersey Shore!

Long after the candles on the cardboard cake had been blown out and the credits had rolled, I was still reeling. I began looking at the guys that I am attracted to and re-evaluating the relationships that I have had, both short and long, with this new epiphany in mind. And then, Doh! Facepalm! The pieces fell into place. Things like this are the reason I, and so many other girls, like assholes. We are conditioned to like the guy that is a complete douche at times because it has been beaten into us since our youth. Not to say there isn’t other conditioning that I am sure is involved, but humor me here.

On top of it all, and I am sure people are going to rip me a new one for this, but the ending of this movie is so far from the scope of reality that it’s insane. When on earth has this happened? In a high school setting, when has the smoldering, popular, sexy as all hell dude ever left his perfect ten girlfriend for a chick that he doesn’t know and that is by no means bad looking but definitely wouldn’t turn your head? Never. It doesn’t happen. Berate me all you want for this, but you cannot say that I am wrong. (I didn’t blossom until after high school and was very awkward for most of it, so I was definitely on the plain side of that coin.)

And I know it isn’t just me that this crap has subconsciously affected, go ahead and flip on the radio to Taylor Swift, her songs are all filled with this exact scenario, which in turn is screwing over yet another generation of females who are being set up with the same recipe for heartache and disaster that Sixteen Candles so generously left my generation. It’s a vicious cycle.

Now that I have come to this conclusion, I can actively work on trying to pick better dudes. Like guys that treat me well, who don’t pimp me out to people when I’m inebriated, and who actually can do pull-ups. I don’t think it’s too much to ask, but thus far this seems to be a pretty tall order.

And there you have it, my Jake Ryan theory.

You’re welcome.

Xoxo
Bradley

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by Sex Toy Expert Moxi Suicide

Hands down this is my favorite bullet. Years ago, while I still worked at Bed Behavior, my co-worker and I sat testing out vibrators on the tips of our fingers. We popped in the batteries, hand sanitized and let ‘em whir. I had triple AAA’s in a quick little flicker clitoral vibrator and my co–worker had put double AA’s in a purple textured bullet. “Woah,” she said reaching over and touching the vibrator to my index finger, “feel this, imagine how good this would feel down there.” My lips parted with pleasure. “Oh my god, I have to get that one!”

The Nubby Bullet is made by Cal Exotics and boasts that it’s 100% silicone, so don’t use this with your silicone lubricant! Using a silicone lubricant with a silicone toy is always a no-no because the silicone in the lubricant and the silicone in the toy will bond together and destroy your toy overtime by pulling away tiny bits of it. Use water based lubes with this guy instead!

The speed is variable and controlled through a dial on the hand held portion of the vibrator. You can easily adjust speed with one hand while using the bullet part on your lady bits. I hate having to reach down and blindly search for speed control, so having the controls close by is a big plus.

The vibrations on the bullet are strong and low. It’s a bit loud, so you definitely need to turn up the tunes when this one is in use. The nodules on the end provide its bit of uniqueness from other bullet vibrators. You can get creative and experiment with pressure and the angles that you press the textured bit of the bullet into yourself with.

The first time I used the Nubby BulletI knew it was destined to be a staple in my vibrator collection. I had a fantastic orgasm with the Nubby Bullet and kept going back for more. This is the vibrator I’ve given most as a gift, and everyone has appreciated it!

xx
Moxi