San Francisco Music Blog

By Bonnie Ruberg

The Clickable Clit finishes up this week with a final set of adventures from the personal diary of an SF-based cybersex expert.

Saying 'Goodbye' to the Clickable Clit
Wednesday, December 31st
Filed under: Sadness, professional concerns

Sad news, cybersex enthusiasts. As of this column, The Clickable Clit will be ending. That means I'll no longer be bringing you blog posts about my cybersex exploits -- but you can expect to see a new feature about sex from me starting up sometime soon at SFWeekly.com. In order to say goodbye to the column, why not look back on some of my fondest -- i.e. sexiest -- moments?

- Transcript: sex in the library with Dr. S.
- Transcript: Halloween cybersex with Dr. S.
- Transcript: Open office hours with Dr. S.

Thanks for reading and be sure to check for more sexy coverage from yours truly!

By Bonnie Ruberg

The Clickable Clit continues this week with more adventures from the personal diary of an SF-based cybersex expert.

How much cybersex is too much?
Sunday, December 7th
Filed under: Boy/girl toy follow-ups, Gripes

I recent interviewed Dr. S. for a piece I was writing on cybersex and depression. To be specific, I wanted to know if people who had cybersex often felt like there was a connection between getting it on online and their mood. The good professor wrote me back a thoughtful response, which is what I expected from someone with a PhD in the literary arts. What caught me off guard was his response to the question, "How many hours a week do you engage in online sexual entertainment." His answer: up to thirteen, including porn and erotic chat.

Thirteen hours a week? That's more than a day and a half of work. If I had thirteen free hours a week, I would... I don't know, write a novel, solve world hunger, find a cure for AIDS, or something. I'm not saying I think Dr. S. is alone in the amount of time he spends getting off online, I'm just constantly baffled by how much of their lives men -- not to generalize, but I've never heard from a woman with an internet sex addiction -- spend on such things. At a certain point I begin to question if I'm involved with a healthy, balanced person who happens to enjoy talking other people off. Instead, I start to wonder if I'm dealing with a pathology.

To be honest, there's probably also an edge of jealousy in my response to those thirteen hours per week. I kinda like my professor --like, like like (triple word score!). He spends, on average, two hours every Friday morning with me. Lately that's been the only two hours each week I dedicate to cybersex -- and remember, that's literally part of my job. If he spends, let's say, four times that many hours on erotic chat, just think of all the other partners he must have. I mean, I'm poly in real life, and it's not like he's going to show up with a digital STD, so I shouldn't care, but there's still something a tad skeevy about the whole thing...

By Bonnie Ruberg

The Clickable Clit continues this week with more adventures from the personal diary of an SF-based cybersex expert.

Thanksgiving, the anti-cybersex holiday
Monday, November 24
Filed under: Gripes, No time for fun

This week I'm home in Philadelphia for Thanksgiving, which means it's going to be a long, dry seven days -- cybersex speaking. If I thought being in an office made erotic chat hard, or even having a roommate wandering in and out of the living room, staying with my overbearing Jewish family instantly kills all desire to have a good old internet time. In fact, I'm convinced that the entire holiday of Thanksgiving was somehow designed to kill libidos. Hear me out on this one.

What do you do on Thanksgiving? You get together with family and friends in a big group, smile at people you don't even like, and pretend to be normal for the grandparents. Buzz kill. Then you eat a lot of food that makes you really sleepy, which ensures you'd rather pass out than jump your significant other. Blah, this whole "togetherness" thing is just really bumming me out. How's a girl supposed to get any online action when she keeps getting called down to help make pumpkin pie?

By Bonnie Ruberg

The Clickable Clit continues this week with more adventures from the personal diary of an SF-based cybersex expert.

When online isn’t enough
Monday, November 17th
Filed under: Boy/girl toy follow-ups, Fantasies, Online heads offline, Professional concerns

I’ve mentioned before that I’m experiencing strange feelings toward Dr. S. Specifically, I’m experiencing what in real-life I’d call a crush. In cyber life, I’d call it impossible — for me at least. Still, here I am, rambling/thinking about a man I’ve never met. Specifically I’m thinking I’d like it if he showed up on my doorstep. For real.

Introducing this into the conversation has been awkward at best (see: simultaneous sarcasm and sincerity). Surely we wouldn’t be the first people on earth to meet for real-world sex after hooking up online, but 1) we live across the country from one another and 2) he has a girlfriend. There’s also 3) the fact that the nature of our sexual relationship has always been about our shared enthusiasm for cybersex. Wanting to take it offline somehow feels like breaking the rules.

How to confront him? Surely not to his online face. Instead, I wrote a column about it last week, where I admit I have irrational feelings for him and would like to meet him in real life, which I worked up the nerve to email him. His eventual response:

I reread your Village Voice article about our encounters and I have to admit that your closing questions often cross my mind as well. So, no need to slyly slip such inquiries into conversation. I’m more than happy to entertain those ideas.

I’m even more ridiculous for sitting around wondering: what does that mean? That he’s willing to roleplay scenarios in which we really do meet, like the one I suggested last week — which he hasn’t mentioned since? Does it mean he, like me, is interested in coordinating something more concrete? And what, pray tell, is up with me in general? I write about the virtues of cybersex as an end in and of itself, and here I come across my first sexy, reliable online partner in years and suddenly online isn’t enough? I’m somewhere between a stupid, swooning schoolgirl and a good old-fashion hypocrite.

This poor guy has just gotten caught in the cross fire of my own confusion. Sorry for the drama, Dr. S. If you weren’t so sweet (and so good in cyber bed) I wouldn’t have this problem…

By Bonnie Ruberg

The Clickable Clit continues this week with more adventures from the personal diary of an SF-based cybersex expert.

An email to the doctor
Saturday, November 8th
Filed under: Boy/girl toy follow-ups, Fantasies, No time for fun

I mentioned last week that I just couldn’t stay away from my professor friend, Dr. S. So after canceling our weekly “office hours” for an actual doctor’s appointment, I ended up rescheduling for the same afternoon. Once our appointment rolled around though, I was swamped, so Dr. S. suggested I write him an email at my convenience that detailed just what had been on my mind. Here’s what I sent over:

By Bonnie Ruberg

The Clickable Clit continues this week with more adventures from the personal diary of an SF-based cybersex expert.

Weird, I think I actually like this guy
Saturday, November 1

As you may have noticed from the transcripts I’ve been posting here, I’ve acquired myself a regular cybersex partner, a horny professor I’ve taken to calling Dr. S. Over the years, I’ve gotten pretty used to having sex online strictly for research, which means my own pleasure gets taken out of the equation. With Dr. S. though, things have been different. He’s a good writer, a creative lover, and an all-around hot cyber lay. Maybe that’s why, despite the fact that I know full well I should be spreading my time around and learning from other partners, I keep coming back to his “office hours,” i.e. our regular Friday online meetings.

I even tried to cancel our meeting for this week, explaining at the end of our last rendezvous I had a doctor’s appointment that morning — which I do. By Monday, though, my body had won out over my head, and I found myself sending him off an email setting up a time to meet on Friday after all, just a little later than normal. I’d been thinking about him a lot, I told him — and it was true. He’s been the star in my non-internet fantasies all week.

What’s appealing to me about Dr. S. isn’t just how well we’re matched up as online lovers — we both want the same thing out of cybersex, and we both approach it as a craft — but how endearing he is. I tend to fall for the guys who are sweet on the outside and capable of ravaging me on the inside. In this case, I’m discovering Dr. S. is one of those guys, I’m just discovering it in the reverse order. I’ve seen him push me over a theoretical desk and take me like there’s no tomorrow. Now I’m discovery his squishy, vulnerable side, like when we told me, post-cybering, how happy he was we’d become regular lovers, and how long he’d been working up the nerve to contact me.

I’m not saying I want to run off and have his internet babies. But it’s strange — and it’s strange that it’s strange — to feel a connection.

By Bonnie Ruberg

The Clickable Clit continues this week with more adventures from the personal diary of an SF-based cybersex expert.

My overeager fan fell asleep on the sofa
Saturday, October 25th

Remember how I told you a fan made me feel like a cybersex tease? Well, after many emails from him, we set up a time to chat. Since he doesn’t cyber during the day — crazy normal humans with their normal human jobs — I agreed to make it a work evening and meet him around 9:00 on instant messenger. When he hadn’t shown up by 9:30, however, I sent him a note and called it quits. Here’s what I got in response the next morning:

It’s all my fault. I fucked up.

I am so sorry. I fucked up my chance; I tried to give it a go now because I was very excited at the thought of a fun cyber with you, but I blew it in the end. I don’t think I will be able to try and schedule something in the next couple weeks that late for me, unless we tried something on the weekend. However I know I also may not get another chance.

While I appreciate the sincerity of his apology, I can’t say I’m turned on by the whole “on his knees, begging for forgiveness thing.” As a sub, I like my partners to be confident and reliable, not week-kneed and late. Still, I wrote him back to say it was no big deal and I’d be happy to meet him another time. No word in response yet. Maybe he’s too ashamed to show his cyber face.

By Bonnie Ruberg

The Clickable Clit continues this week with more adventures from the personal diary of an SF-based cybersex expert.

How do you decide what to include in a sex blog?
Thursday, October 16

This past week I attended a sex blogging workshop held by San Fran’s own Melissa Gira Grant at the Center for Sex and Culture. For the most part the workshop, while a lot of fun, wasn’t exactly oriented toward people like yours truly who already spend a significant chunk of each day hanging out in the sex blogging world. Melissa did have us do an exercise where we wrote about real-life sexual experiences in a way that stripped out all the personal details — which gave me 200 odd words to pour out my heart to an index card. For me though, the question that really stuck out from the evening was, “How do decide what to include and what not to include in your sex blog?”

Since I’m not blogging about real-life encounters, in my case this isn’t so much a question of privacy, anonymity, or confidentiality. It’s a question of how much I’m willing to admit — to myself. For example, I’m happy to tell the world that I went into Second Life, let’s say, and had cybersex with twelve different partners to research BDSM subcultures, or whatever. What’s hard for me to share is my own response to these encounters. Sometimes I really am removed. I’m eating a sandwich and working on a review at the same time I cyber. Other times though, as with my recent encounters with the college professor, I have been sincerely physically invested in the encounter. See, even that’s a euphemism. What I mean is, I was turned on. And that’s what, in my case, is somehow unspeakable.

By Bonnie Ruberg

The Clickable Clit continues this week with more adventures from the personal diary of an SF-based cybersex expert.

Working in a real office makes cybersex difficult
Friday, October 10

I’m a work-from-home kind of writer. Maybe it’s the fact that I don’t play well with others, or that I have a hard time taking orders, or just that I sometimes prefer hanging out at my computer without pants. Whatever the reason, my home office environment is highly conducive to cybersex. There’s no one around to stare awkwardly at my screen, or to comment on my methods. I can get as hot and bothered or as bored as I like because I’m all by myself.

Last week, however, I rented an actual office space down in SoMa from a friend and fellow writer. Part of an entire writers’ complex, my particular office was spacious, well-furnished, welcoming: everything a normal human would want in a work environment. Personally, I spent most of my time worrying about my huge windows, which faced an interior atrium. What could my fellow office mates see? If I was just typing, nothing — but still. When I’m on the clock at home, cybersex definitely feels like work. Sitting in a space shared by other people, however, it somehow seems more inappropriate than watching episodes of Family Guy on Hulu.

Needless to say, this past week has not been the sexiest one in my recent history. I’m already in the process of setting up an online date with a friendly stocking fetishist later this week, however — plus I’m back in the comfort of my own living room. You know what that means: tune in next week for the juicy details.

By Bonnie Ruberg

The Clickable Clit continues this week with more adventures from the personal diary of an SF-based cybersex expert.

"I Think We Have Some Unfinished Business"
Tuesday, October 7

Today, readers, I’m going to try something a little different. Instead of talking about my online sex life, I’m going to show you what a full cybersex transcript looks like. It’s sort of like an erotic story, but told by two people at once. These lines haven't been changed at all since the moment they first hit the screen. Keep an eye out for my comments in italics.

Dr. S.: good morning
Me: good morning indeed
Dr. S.: i must say that i'm quite glad to see you again
Me: *smiling
is that right?

[This is Dr. S., the college professor I talked about playing with in last week’s column. Since our session got interrupted, we’re both back for more.]

Dr. S.: *smiling back
it is
if only because i think we have some unfinished business
Me: oh, like what?
Dr. S.: come sit on my desk in front of me and i'll show you
Me: *walking into the room, shutting the door
*stepping around you to slide up onto the desk
show away
Dr. S.: *still smiling as i roll my chair closer, leaning over slightly to run my hands up from your ankles to your inner thighs,
massaging gently as i go
(what are we wearing today?)
Me: (i have on a black skirt, mid-thigh length, and a black tank top)

[Isn't it nice how he asks so we can make sure we agree before going on with the story?]

Dr. S.: *sliding both hands underneath your black skirt, spreading my fingers out over your thighs, squeezing and sighing at the feel of your soft skin
Me: *touching your cheek, then running her fingers along your neck
Dr. S.: *leaning my head down slightly to kiss your wrist as i move my hands farther up your skirt
*searching for the hem of your underwear
Me: *leaning over, moaning lightly into you ear
ah, so this is our unfinished business...

By Bonnie Ruberg

The Clickable Clit continues this week with more adventures from the personal diary of an SF-based cybersex expert.

I get to jump the professor I always wanted
Sunday, September 28

I was always one of those undergrads who fantasized about jumping her professors. That’s why, when three weeks ago I got a Facebook message from a writing teacher at a Midwest university looking for a kindred soul to expound on the wonders of text-based cybersex, I did a little mental dance. The thing about cybersex that’s always interested me is the language, the use of words. Here I had a man with a PhD in that topic on my virtual doorstep, ready to explore the art of writing — in my pants. Then, a few days ago, I received the following in an email:

Ms. Ruberg,

Best,
Dr. S.

I literally went weak in the knees when I read that. As my fiancé said when I told him about the date we set to explore this little roleplay two days from now, “Wow, a writing professor wants to pretend to do you in his office? You eat that shit up.” And I do. More to come!

By Bonnie Ruberg

The Clickable Clit continues this week with more online adventures from an SF-based cybersex expert…

Rude Virtual: Like Second Life without the Excuses
Sunday, September 21

I just got another PR email about Rude Virtual, a new MMO dedicated solely to online sex. Other cybersex worlds that have come before it — like Red Light Center — haven’t done so well. While you’d think that creating a 3D, multi-user environment specifically for sex would be a goldmine, it seems people want to at least have the pretense of general human interaction before jumping headlong into virtual bed.

Rude Virtual looks pretty much the same. With graphics reminiscent of Second Life, it seems like one more Internet night spot where men will far outweigh women and the few female avatars that do hang around are handled by real-life dudes. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but since the world caters to a fairly mainstream market (i.e. not the open-minded subculture that roam Second Life) I’m thinking the average player is going to be disappointed.

The one thing that does make me sad I can’t play Rude Virtual — it won’t run on my Mac — is I’d be curious to see what the user interface is like when it comes to cybersex. As Google’s Lively recently learned, not all chat setups are created equal. Some work better for dirty talk than others. I would hope that this new program gives you lots of privacy, should you want it, and lots of options. From the site all it looks like it gives you is lots of flesh and awkward dancing.

By Bonnie Ruberg

The Clickable Clit continues this week with more online adventures from an SF-based cybersex expert…

Cybersex at 30,000 Feet
Sunday, September 14th

American Airlines recently announced they'll be providing full access wireless internet on a number of their domestic flights. Apparently, for a number of flight attendants, that's cause for worry, not rejoicing. Why? Because they're afraid that, given WiFi, passengers with laptops will use it to look up "seedy" websites in an attempt to pass away the in-flight hours with mile-high smut. While those cart-pushers may be worried about porn and complimentary blankets cleverly covering crotches, I'm busy thinking of all the possibilities for cybersex at 30,000 feet.

Sure, getting it on online in an airplane wouldn't be that different from doing it at any other crowded, public place (remind me to tell you those stories later), but there's something so novel about describing something dirty you'd like to do to a stranger over text chat while you're soaring above the ground. Plus, all novelty aside, cybersex would be a great way to pass the time -- and it's so much more entertaining that in-flight movies. Should anyone acquire the balls to bring this dream of mine to fruition, here are some initial tips for the cybersex mile high club:

1) The people around you can see what's on your screen. Maybe that's a good thing, you naughty exhibitionist. If you prefer to keep your online sex life more secret, get a window seat and put up some blinders, like a folder you hold on one side of your laptop.

2) Please, don't touch yourself in your seat. Talking dirty is all well and good, and even kind of funny depending on whom you're sitting next to, but the idea of spending five hours beside a wanking perv (and I don't use that term lightly) isn't pretty. You wouldn't want it to happen to you, so don't make it happen to someone else.

3) Make your exit to the bathroom, should you need one, discrete. No massive bulges when you work your way down those tiny aisles.

4) Remember to tell whoever you're cybering with your in an actual airplane. Like, for real. 'Cause that's hot.

By Bonnie Ruberg

The Clickable Clit continues this week with more online adventures from an SF-based cybersex expert…

Sunday, September 7th

“As far as what I like to do in cyber bed, I wouldn’t say I’ve spent much time there. That is, I’ve spent more time on the cyber floor, in the cyber kitchen, pool/hot tub, beach, library, etc.,” said a new, sexy Facebook friend of mine when I asked him about his tastes in cyber bed. “In this way, cybersex is a way to realize and enact fantasies in a safe environment. For a long time, I maintained a cyber apartment with a woman in Oregon; we had every room mapped out, knew where everything was and used that knowledge to our collective advantage when ‘in session.’ But it was also a kind of refuge from our rather turbulent offline lives, so I like cybersex for that reason, too, as an escape from reality.”

Wait, you had an entire cybersex apartment? That’s awesome. That means you sat down and brainstormed a whole imagined living space — sofas, tea pots, and all — so that you could have more satisfying cybersex by talking about sex that could take place there. Damn, maybe I need to start inventing myself cybersex mansions. “Here is my grand piano, on which I have sex. Here is my swimming pool, in which I have sex. Here is my diamond jewelry, which I wear when I have sex...”

By Bonnie Ruberg

The Clickable Clit continues this week with more online adventures from an SF-based cybersex expert…

Sunday, August 24

I am determined to have good cybersex. I’m a big believer that sex online is a valid and important form of sexual expression — but sometimes that’s hard to get across when I’m griping about the silly things people say in the throes of internet passion. It’s gotten to the point where I’ve considered setting up some sort of “fuck me” marathon: potential partners get half an hour to impress me. If they do, I’ll stick around and see things to their logical conclusion. If not, gong! It’s not that good partners don’t exist, it’s just that I’m too impatient to sift for them.

Like yesterday, I signed onto OkCupid in search of some cyber tail, just to set my cynicism straight. Right away I had a message from my sexy nurse, the one who’d been so fun to play with last time. Unfortunately, things turned unintentionally hilarious way too quick. In my main OkCupid picture, I happen to be holding a little, pink stuffed hippo. So this guy starts going off on how hot he thinks the photo is, and how turned on he is by what he calls “that little pig.” I should have let it go, but I couldn’t help myself:

Sexy nurse: I just get so hard looking at you and that little pig. Bonnie: You're turned on by the pig? Sexy nurse: Pigs are forbidden. Bonnie: They are? Sexy nurse: If you’re Jewish or Muslim.

Then I LoLed. Oh, how I LoLed. Because there is no one in the world who can keep up the sexiness of an online chat using pork and keeping Kosher as material. A friend of mine recently suggested I start writing about the humorous things people say during cybersex. I thought, “Do you read my column?”

By Bonnie Ruberg

The Clickable Clit continues this week with more online adventures from an SF-based cybersex expert…

Monday, August 18th

I signed up for MyBlackBook today, and boy was that place depressing.

I’m working on a new column about sites like MyBlackBook and Bedpost, which help you keep track of your offline sex life. As always, that means I need to sign up for them myself. Unfortunately, Bedpost is still in closed beta, and MyBlackBook looks dreadfully lifeless. Unlike OkCupid, it doesn’t scream, “Tell me your secrets!” It more screams, “I’m sterile and awkward to navigate!”

More importantly, I can’t say I see myself using their system. The basic idea is to make entries for every person you’ve slept with. So, after a night of fun, you log onto the site and record the who, what, where, when, and how. Not only does the system have the nerve to ask you exactly what sexual positions you tried, it also wants the full name and phone number of the people you jumped. Secure or not, there doesn’t seem to be any reason to tell the internet that. Then the site asks for your partners’ birthdays. Um, aren’t you happy I know their full names?

By Bonnie Ruberg

The Clickable Clit continues this week with more online adventures from an SF-based cybersex expert…

Wednesday, July 30, 11:30 a.m.

Oh no, it’s the return of the awkward “LOL.”

A few years back, I wrote a piece about how middle-aged men resting their exposed genitals on the plastic straps of lawn chairs use terms like "LOL" to mitigate their sheer ridiculousness. I should probably explain. At the time I had an older sugar daddy in Second Life who, when talking about the things he was doing in real life (e.g. sitting around naked in a lawn chair), would often end his sentences with "laugh out loud," as if that somehow made what he was saying more normal and less weird. It was an interesting way for a popular internet abbreviation that's supposed to mean you're having a good time to instead mean, "Don't judge me!"

Well, it seems the awkward LOL is back in my life, and it's once again in use by an older man. I've mentioned I put out a call on Beautiful Stranger, my cybersex matchmaking site, for "research participants"--i.e. people to have sex with me online for science. One of the people who've responded is a forty-something surfer from Hawaii who spends a lot of time on a site called 321SexChat. I agreed to check it out with him, but we keep missing each other. That somehow leads him to send me messages like the following: "You know, it really sucks being at work when you'd rather be engaged in some form of wild behavior that results in a climax. LOL."

LOL indeed, sir. LOL indeed.

By Bonnie Ruberg

The Clickable Clit continues this week with more online adventures from an SF-based cybersex expert…

Friday, July 25, 11:17 p.m.

A few interesting developments in the land of my love/hate relationship with Internet dating sites:

1) The boy who dared me to stick my hand down his pants in public – while on a date we’d arranged online -- recently resurfaced after a few weeks of silence. I had just been thinking to myself, “Well, that’s strange. He sure seemed interested, at least sexually, and then he disappeared. This whole dating thing is bizarre. Whatevs.” Then he appeared from out of the blue, claimed he’d been busy, said he’d had a great time when we went out, and even invited me to join his writing group. Like, we’d talk? My newest theory: he was seeing someone for a couple weeks and he thought it might go somewhere. Now I’m of course debating whether to wait an equally long time before stooping to replying to his message. Not that I haven’t spent twice as long as it would take to respond sitting here blogging about him.

2) On a happier note, I met a cute, sweet, sexy boy from one site over the weekend. We actually had things to say to each other that didn’t involve sexual positions (not that that’s a bad topic of discussion, but I’d prefer someone gives two shits about me in general). In fact, following our 2:00 p.m. coffee date, my partner and I spent the next 24 hours with him. Needless to say, fun was had, fun of the offline variety I won’t bore you with here. Personally I’m psyched to have a new friend in addition to a new playmate — even if this one is unfortunately leaving the Bay Area in a couple weeks. Sad face.

Online dating, you’ve got my faith back, at least for now. Just don’t mess it up.

By Bonnie Ruberg

The Clickable Clit continues this week with more online adventures from an SF-based cybersex expert.

Monday, July 14, 2:21 a.m.

I think I'm selling myself for traffic. Or really, I'm giving myself away for free.

As a side project, I started a cybersex matchmaking site this week called Beautiful Stranger. It began with the idea that there should be somewhere online to meet up with other cybersex enthusiasts that's not quite so shady as, say, AOL chat rooms and doesn't take as long to get started with as Second Life. I used Ning.com to put the site together, so it's got profiles and forums and hopefully everything a body could need to hunt down a fun cybersex partner. Now all it lacks is people.

To get things started I've published a forum thread on the site looking for new cybersex research partners i.e. people to have cybersex with in the name of "science." Really, it's a way to get users exploring the forums, filling out profiles, and so on. Plus, a girl has got to keep researching, otherwise what would she write about? Still, I can't help but feel like I'm putting my own cyber body on the line for the sake of daily site traffic.

Since it got started, Beautiful Stranger has already picked up a little bit, and I've had a number of replies to my "Who wants to have research cybersex with me?" query. Hopefully some interesting encounters will come it (at the moment things are still on the flirting/planning level), otherwise it's just going to feel like giving hand jobs in exchange for page views...

“Just Because I Want to Have Sex Doesn’t Mean I Want to Have Sex with You”
By Bonnie Ruberg

A girl can get into a lot of trouble out there on the internet—especially when that girl is a cybersex columnist. For more than a year now, I’ve been writing Click Me, a weekly cybersex advice column for VillageVoice.com. As you can imagine, I have a lot of online trysts for research. Sometimes the sex is good, sometimes bad, sometimes awkward and hilarious—but it’s all in the name of “science.”

Having just moved out to San Francisco, I thought I’d give something new a try: cybersex blogging. That means divulging all the dirty details behind the sex life of a professional internet sexpert. Here are some tidbits from this first week:

Wednesday, July 9, 4:32 p.m.

I love how people think I should drop what I’m doing and do them.

Because I write about cybersex, people tend to think I want to have it at all times of the day, with everyone, no matter what I’m doing. What they don’t seem to get is that having cybersex is part of my job. Therefore, when my IM status reads “busy,” I really am–whether or not you have pants on.