Mar 302016

Abiola Abrams is a raging powerstorm of amazingness and so when she says “I need you to write me something for Essence online!” I’m all “HELL YEAH!”

You can read the article here, but it only contains one of the three tips  shared. Keep reading to see what else I had to say, under pressure, wondering who the hell would listen to advice from me anyway.

Look at this happy Black couple stock image and weep at their magnificence.

Gaze in Awe upon this Happy Black Couple stock image and weep at their magnificence.

“11 Sex Secrets From the Experts That Will Set Your Bed On Fire!”

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Dec 182015

Many of us have been there. Doing the online dating thing. I am in the unique position of not only having perused just about all online dating formats available in the past couple of decades, but I have my roots in the primordial soup of online dating: newspaper ad dating. Before that? I’d even spent a couple of years working as an operator (read: decoy)  for “The One Line” (remember Party Lines, oldbies?!?).  My last desk job?  Working as a content slave for the FriendFinder empire. I have an advanced degree in online hookupery and profile-fu. SO believe me, I have been around the block, over the block, poked through the sewers under the block…I got it down.

From personal ads in the L.A. Weekly on to Craig’s List Casual Encounters, I have seen and done so many much. Despite endless, ready hookups and even one or two fun, moderately successful relationships, I never found the person who was fully ready to commit and who was thrilled by the possibility of an ongoing, monoamorous relationship.

“So, Mollena.” you well might ask, “why the FUCK did you keep doing that shit even when it was so rife with fail?”

GOOD Question! You can select any number and combination of the following:

  1. I’m a closeted sunny fucking romantic optimist.
  2. SOME luck is more than NO luck and it don’t take much to keep this bitch hunting!
  3. I’d seen other people have success.
  4. It gave me the feeling of being an active agent in orchestrating my destiny.

And I had enough fun flings, good times, and epic adventures to keep me tending those sketchy-ass virtual Lobster Pots of Love for years. Even the most miserable failed hook-up was rewarded with a prime chance to bitch to the world about it and wind up featured in the “Best of Craig’s List!

Until I decided that I was tired, that the last series of slaps and digs and faceplants was a sign for me to chill the fuck out, and I had a serious conversation with Ganesha in the shower in the dark one night.

Then sometime late on December 19, 2013, two years ago today, I opened OKCupid, read a few dead threads, scoped the suggested matches, and opened the following message.


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 Musings  Comments Off on OKCupid Episode MDCCCXCVII: A New Hope
Dec 122015

Two years ago today I was feeling…depressed. Laid low after a failed attempt at a book / teaching tour, I was doing that thing where you TAKE STOCK OF YOUR LIFE  and was not sanguine about current status reports.

Being back in NYC thanks to the courtesy of the generosity of The Evil Jewish Lesbian Landladies and my own madness was a gift​, yet I was dogged by the knowledge that this was not a permanent situation. I’d had several decent writing gigs that had all evaporated within the past year, and that made paying even my modest bills impossible. Furthermore, I was almost through the money I’d saved while working for FriendFinder Networks, and that weighed heavily on me as well. 

And I was lonely. Even finding play-dates was hard. I’d work up the nerve to ask someone to play, and almost inevitably there would be some reason it wouldn’t come to fruition. Or I’d finally have a long-awaited play-date, and the person involved would make it abundantly clear this was not going to lead to a longer-term or more sustained connection. I was sure there had to be something wrong with me, despite copious evidence to the contrary. I was still making what felt like an unbelievably futile effort to find a partner despite knowing deep down I never would.

Jai Ganesha...!In the shower, in the dark, (what, you don’t shower with the lights out? You really should try it. It is amazing) in the middle of the night, I had a long talk with my higher power. About fear, about disappointment. About the mad leap of faith I’d taken to move back home and try to live life as an educator under the banner of Alternative Sexuality. Continue reading »

 Musings  Comments Off on Unless.
Dec 122013
photo by melvin moten (. erocrush)

photo by melvin moten (m. erocrush)

Dear Mollena…

It is tough out here.

When you are single, even tougher. You have been trying, with not much success, to be active in your search for a partner.

You have heard so many stories and seen so much that dents your already battered heart. I know I am not alone, and I want you to know you are not alone.

It is tough to be you. I see that, and I salute your strength. Continue reading »

Oct 262013

blown mindI was listening, the other day, to Dorothy Allison talk about truth, fiction, and making your own genres. I realized just now that the core reason I have been stuck with so much of the stuff I have to say is that I need Bigger Ideas and Stranger Canvasses than one normally sees in order to talk about my insides. I need Bollywood movies and 5 act Operas and anime and tone poetry and a little bit of that old Ultraviolence to get through, perhaps a bit, to others what I am feeling. I need to blow it up big enough to overwhelm and sicken and blow away folks so that maybe you get the tiniest dry rind of the fruits my heart grows. Continue reading »

 Musings  Comments Off on my voice.
Aug 062013
photo by stacie joy

photo by stacie joy

The idea of a savant – someone who exhibits a particular exemplary skill while somehow presenting with a seeming deficit in other areas – is fascinating to me. I’ve an affinity for those who are outliers, removed from the standard, separate from the mainstream. And that attraction slipped naturally into place when I came out on the BDSM and Leather Communities. I felt that I was finally coming home and had found “My People.”

Well, not so fast, rabbit.

There are factions, fragments, fickleness and fissures within the “Community” up to and including those who won’t even use the word “Community” to refer to the loose confederation of alternative people who practice Kink / Leather / BDSM. IN fact, I’ve taken to calling it The Pervert Confederation. Closer to accurate, methinks. Continue reading »

 Musings  Comments Off on Dominant Savant…?
Jul 252013

Any questions…?

I wear this necklace in daily life, and sometimes it sparks conversation. I am quite adept at opening up conversation without creating any pressure. People who ask are curious, and I find it a lovely way to conduct outreach, even as I’m buying my favourite cupcakes, waiting for a flight overseas, or riding the 7 home to Queens.

I am out. As out as out can be. Whether I am telling a story about very edgy play for the RISK Podcast, or being quoted in the New York Times, or any other number of places, I use my full name. I’m me on FaceBooktwice…on FetLife, Twitter, my blog is my name. I know that it is my choice, and I am comfortable with…well, no. Past comfortable. I am happy and proud to be able to do so. Most kinky folks cannot. The risk to income, family, job, career, reputation, what have you, is often too great for folks to be out. The risks are very real. And I believe that, as I can be a representative for those who cannot be out, so I oughtta step up to the motherfucking plate. Continue reading »

 Musings  Comments Off on Pervert.
Jul 182013
photo by Don Sir

photo by Don Sir

People are often curious as to why a particular play-style, pervy activity or kind of kink appeals while others leave you cold. I can’t speak for anyone but myself, but I’ll tell you about why I so love bottoming to rope bondage, and submission via rope.

 There are forty-two reasons, on any given day, why kinky stuff gets my tingly bits tingling. For the most part, what I love most about BDSM is the connection with the person (or people!) with whom I’m playing. I’m one of those bottom/submissive/slave types who occasionally frustrates top/dominant/master types when negotiating play. Oftentimes, when asked “So! What do you wanna do when we play?” I’ll respond, “Well, what really makes YOU hot and horny?” I’m not trying to shirk responsibility for my pleasure, really! But my gut-level response is whatever truly pleases them will go a long, long way towards pleasing me.
“But why? Why do you do that kinky shit?” Not only do I get asked this question quite often; it’s one I asked myself while I was trying to figure out if I was actually going to go through with exploring BDSM. There are plenty of whys. Continue reading »

 Musings  Comments Off on Got Rope? (NSFW)
Jul 052013

Before you talk shit about the resonance of this image, know that a poly group on FaceBook uses this as their image ;-)

Mo here, talking about being (mostly) mono in a poly world. And by “poly world” I mean the BDSM community as I experience it.

I’ve been around a while, and I am not a shrinking violet when it comes to hopping around the country chilling with my Leather and Kinky and Sex Positive and Freaky Peeps. And due to this, many assume I play all the time, everywhere.

This is not the case.

don’t have people banging down my door. This is just the fact. Why? Lots of reasons I suppose. But since I’m in a bit of a gutwrenching funk, I’ll focus on the one contributing factor I can process without it becoming a festival of self-deprecation. Continue reading »

Jun 162013

trust-fallI’ve been around and publically doing my thing with kinky folks since I walked into my first Munch in San Francisco around 1996.  Prior to that, I’d spent three years figuring out why this One Guy had managed to dig the fuck inside me and turn my head & heart all the way around. In those three years, I’d spent some time on this newfangled internet, on message boards, reading books, trying to see if could trust myself to walk with the lions & tigers & bears (oh my!) and take care of myself in the wilderness of an underground community of outlaws drawn together under the thinnest of pretenses: we all like some kind of freaky sex.

One of the things I have trusted all of my life is my instinct. I grew up in New York City in the 70s and 80s. By the time I was five, I had committed to my mind and my bodymemory countless rules & regulations & guidelines & hints & tips & tricks for navigating the urban landscape. From how close I walked to parked cars to how long I’d maintain eye-contact with strangers to how much distance (both physical and metaphysical)  to leave between myself and the person seemingly pressed right up against me on the Uptown 6 to how to determine whether or not the person walking behind me is a harmless drunk or a potential perp. It might seem like a strange childhood, but I was fiercely proud that, by the time I moved from The City at age 21, I’d managed to navigate my way through some tight spots and emerge victorious.

Trust is something that is sometimes earned over years and sometimes assumed in a heartbeat and eye-to-eye connection and gut instinct. I have trusted my life to people I’ve known for mere moments, and I have had my deepest trust violated by people with whom I have shared a bed.

And so it goes.

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