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...