Will Anyone Else Want Strap-On Sex the Way I Do?

You might be worried that you love strap on sex too much.

You might be worried that you won’t find someone who wants to receive strap-on sex as often as you want to strap on. In general, as we get more aware of what our particular sexual interests are, it can seem like what we want becomes harder to find.

Which is true — we’re narrowing down what we want, so that means there are fewer things out there that will match our wants. But what’s also true is that our chances of being satisfied are getting higher and higher, because we better know ourselves and what we want.

In addition, we’re getting more specific with what we want, which actually means what we’re looking for becomes easy to find. If we’re looking for “someone to have sex with,” sure, there are lots of people who might fit into that scenario, but just anybody willing to have sex might not actually make for a satisfying time.

Getting more specific about our desires gets us more likely to get what we want, and also more likely to have a satisfying experience.

A Little Personal Story …

As I was coming into my own as a cock-centric person, I was worried that my interest wouldn’t match up with anyone else’s. I wanted to be strapped on when I had sex at least ninety percent of the time, and I didn’t know anybody who wanted that the same way I did.

I got a lot of push-back from other queer women I was dating at the time. One person even told me that if she wanted to have sex “like that,” meaning with some sort of penetrative instrument, she’d have sex with a man.

Associating strapping on with any particular gender is not only untrue, it deeply limits our abilities to explore and experiment with what our bodies do and the ways we can connect and play through sex. Wanting to play with penetrative sex, whether with fingers, a factory-installed penis, or a strapped on appendage, has nothing to do with gender and can be enjoyed — or rejected — by anyone of any gender. A few of the most cock-centric people that I know are high femmes, and I know a few gay men who do not want penetrative sex, giving or receiving, at all.

It took me some time to feel comfortable owning how frequently I wanted my sexual experiences to include me strapped on. It took talking to my friends, talking to lovers, and talking to other sex-positive educators to feel like I wasn’t the only one who wanted that, and to trust that I wasn’t a weird pervert freak because of it. It took trusting that someone was out there who wanted equal-but-opposite thing I wanted — for their partner to be strapped on for ninety percent of their sex life. It took experimenting and playing and being open about what I wanted.

Eventually, it has become one integral part of my personal sexuality, and if I was talking to a new potential sexual partner, it is something I would screen for.

On Stereotypes

It might seem like lesbians or queer women have rejected penetrative sex, because they are not attracted to men. It might seem like straight men would not be interested in being pegged, because they are heterosexual.

But liking the sensation of penetration and one’s sexual orientation are not the same thing. In all of my travels and coaching and teaching of strap-on technique, I have met with thousands of people, and I assure you: plenty of queer women enjoy penetration, and plenty of straight men enjoy pegging, and plenty of nonbinary folks and genderqueer folks of all kinds of genders enjoy things in their holes.

It might seem like you are looking for something that doesn’t exist, but I assure you: it does! You may have to just take it on faith for a little while, but if you look around and be open about the kind of sex life you want, you will find people who want the same things you do.

There are many, many people out there who want to receive. They might be looking for you, and thinking you’re hard to find, just as much as you are looking for them.

The Exact Right Word: National Coming Out Day and Chosen Identities

For #nationalcomingoutday, here are some words I use to describe myself and some identities that I have actively cultivated:

white
butch
queer
writer
survivor
genderqueer
masculine of center
poet
teacher
bookworm
introvert
HSP
hedonist
working artist
social activist
able bodied
Pacific Northwestern American
Daddy
Master
cock-centric
college educated
2nd generation woo
Buddhist
foodie

For a while, I kept a list of words in the back of my journal, making a note to myself anytime I heard myself say, “I’m a _____.” I would write it down and think about it, pondering if I really am that thing or if it was a passing moment of identifying as such. Some of the words that came out of that are survivor, introvert, and hedonist, as well as the more often-used social justice ones, like butch and queer and dyke and gendequeer.

There are some other words—like lesbian, dyke, and trans—that are almost the right word, and which I sometimes use and sometimes identify with, but that aren’t always precisely right.

There are a few more that are complex and I hesitate to list, like yogi and tantrika, because while I do practice yoga and tantra, I haven’t quite been able to reconcile the cultural appropriation that surrounds me with those activities enough to be comfortable to use the identity labels to refer to myself. (So for now, I go with 2nd generation woo.)

There are a few more that I aspire to, but don’t quite have yet … like gardener and runner, which are identities in progress but not quite integrated. I do have a garden (finally!!), but I frequently forget about it. And I did run two 5k races in the past two years (hurrah!) but again, that habit doesn’t feel consistent, and isn’t quite an identity yet, just an occasional burst of interest.

And what’s the word for someone who tends to be depressed, or who struggles with depression? I don’t quite want to say neurodivergent or depressive, those seem too intense. Something a little more mild that says that I tend toward internalizing emotions rather than externalizing, and tend toward feeling down rather than feeling up (anxious). Or maybe this is a case where I have to reclaim a word, or use something that seems overly harsh and is misunderstood (like depressive).

There’s a lot to think about on National Coming Out Day … I’m particularly interested in identities, and what we call ourselves, and how we claim our power in these words and communities, but I also recognize that for many people, being associated with the identities that have marginalized them feels an awful lot like being marginalized all over again.

I believe that we should find the precise right words that are big enough to contain all the multitudes of us, and not sacrifice our selves to fit into labels which constrict. I believe the identity should conform to us, that we shouldn’t conform to it. And I believe that labels and identities and words that describe ourselves should always be the starting place, not the ending place, of the conversation—a place of opportunity to know more and ask questions and listen, not a place to fill in our own assumptions and determine the truths of others.

I’ll leave you of the Mark Twain quote: “The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between the lightning and the lightning-bug.”

What identities do you claim? What words do you use to define yourself?