Today’s battle pits Bunny Tales: Behind Closed Doors at the Playboy Mansion by Izabella St. James against How To Have A XXX Sex Life: The Ultimate Vivid Guide by the Vivid Girls.
I thought this match up would be a battle in predictable, one-size-fits all advice, a Stupid-Off of Olympic proportions. Instead, I uncovered one of the best sex books I’ve read in years. Ladies and Gentleman, prepare to be read something nice for once!
It’s Bunny Tales, right?: Hahaha! No! Let me tell you about Izabella St. James, an entitled, ungrateful bitch whose writing is so boring that reading her book made me sometimes wish I were illiterate. She went to law school (although she has never passed the bar exam) and speaks several languages because of her gypsy childhood, so she knows for a fact she’s better than every other girl ever associated with Playboy, even though she claims to be writing her book in order to encourage people to be less judgmental. She means, of course, people should be less judgmental about her, because unlike the rest of the women Hugh called “family,” she isn’t “trailer trash.” This after she admits to getting into three physical fights with the other girls during her time at the mansion, and initiating at least two of those.
Then The Porn Book Is The Awesome One?: Sure, it’s got lots of self-indulgent plugs for various Vivid movies, and a center section with inexplicably retro looking pictures of the female performers, and starts off with a line about how women should always wear six inch heels around the house, even while vacuuming—which had me ready to light the pages on fire right then and there—but it’s actually really good! XXX Sex Life is written for women and men, and it covers everything from dirty talking to kissing to the g-spot to threesomes. It frequently reiterates the importance of communication and individual preference when it comes to everything, be that toy use or grooming or a particular sexual technique. It also provides many quotes from the Vivid performers, both male and female, to prove how subjective sensations are. There are even good suggestions about how and when to talk sex with your partner so as not to seem critical or pushy. (I.e. do it after the act and not during, start with a compliment or affirmation, say what you do like rather than what you don’t.) It’s all the more charming for being read in the wake of the reprehensible Bunny Tales.
Aren’t You Being A Little Hard On St. James?: Am I? She denigrates the mansion (aka her chosen home for two years,) calls Hefner egomaniacal and deluded, and delivers snide remarks about Bridget and Holly, two girls who were once her housemates and who enjoyed significant success with their appearances on E!’s “The Girls Next Door” after St. James moved out. She regularly reminds the reader that she was never a gold-digger or sugar baby and only lived at the house for fun, all while complaining that Hefner never did anything for her financially. (For instance, “What was strange to me is that Hef would gladly pay for any plastic surgery, necessary or not, but he would not help me with school loans.” Necessary plastic surgery? Oh, right, I forgot that period when Hef only dated severe burn victim and girls with cleft lips.)
And here she is on her belief that the mansion staff were not as deferential as they should have been: “I was not some girl Hef took in off the street; I had a professional career ahead of me and if I was working in my profession, I would be doing all right without Hef.” Right on, Izzy! If I weren’t born female but were born ten years earlier so I’d be age-eligible, and hadn’t tried every drug under the sun and broken upwards of twelve federal laws while in my early twenties, and campaigned really hard for public office and could pretend that social conservatives don’t make me throw up in my mouth, I might be President of the United States right now! And people should treat me accordingly.
There’s Another Surprise: The Vivid book was co-written by Dan Anderson and Maggie Berman—the same two people behind Sex Tips for Straight Women from a Gay Man, as featured in the very first throwdown! My god, they have come such a long way from that Mr. Softee nonsense. Check it out: “His anticipation of what’s to come should cause his mini-me to jump straight up.” Alright, so, baby steps. It’s still much more bearable this time around, and the sections focusing on female genitals are mercifully free of shockingly dumb euphemisms. Probably because Maggie was like “Dan, there’s no fucking way I’m referring to a clit as a ‘lil’ pink button.’ Or ‘Ms. Pinkie.’ Or ‘Lady Pinkerton of Pink Pussy Hill.’ We’re adults. How about we call it a clit?”
They also have a major slip up when they claim that a guy coming during a boob job (yeah I said a boob job, what else am I going to call it? Titty fucking? Like I’m common trailer trash?!?!) is called “squeezing for dollars” because no, it’s not. No one anywhere has ever called it that unless that person was so drunk they promptly vomited on the penis afterwards, and let’s not be taking our slang from someone in that compromised state. Even Urban Dictionary is like WTF with that one.
Re: Mansion Sex: It is the tamest, most pathetic sex ever. It involves Viagra, drunk girls hoping to become stars, and sex with an old man who lies on his back while covered in baby oil. I’ll give St. James the benefit of the doubt when she says Hefner has “no passion, no physical abilities” and “technical difficulties.” She adds that “the two years I lived at the Playboy Mansion were the years I had the least sex ever.” But she implies that sex in multiple positions is somehow “more than what one considers standard sex,” so I don’t think the men of the world were missing much.
Here’s what Vivid says: “You don’t want to substitute household products for lube, so things like […] cosmetic creams, Vaseline, baby oil—all of which most men have probably used to toss off at one time or another—can be harsh on the vaginal tissue, cause an allergic reaction, or give women a bad yeast, bacterial, or other infection.” Cosmetic creams?! Men jerking off with cosmetic cream? Like Clinique or Oil of Olay or something? Aw, now we can tell this was written by our good friend, the sex-tip-giving gay man. I bet the skin of his mini-me is fantastic.
Down and Dirty: The Vivid Crew ends with a safer sex section that discusses STD testing, condom use, dental dams and rubber gloves. They also require condom use in their films
Meanwhile, St. James says Hef’s previous girlfriends ended up with herpes, and sure enough, the prince of pajamas never bothers wearing condoms with any of his playmates, even when he screws one right after the other. (But he did have the courtesy to wipe off with a wet rag in between. Chivalry, thy name is Hugh.) Allegedly these encounters last less than a minute for each penetrate-ee, and Hef can only come by masturbating, so I suppose it’s relatively low risk. Although when it comes to genital herpes, I hope we can all agree that “low risk” is not ideal.
Winner: How To Have A XXX Sex Life was one of the sweetest, most thoughtful, and most thorough sex manuals I’ve ever read. It encourages encounters that are connected, kind, and pleasurable for both parties, which means it touts the exact kind of sex porn usually eschews. Oh, the irony! Therefore, the winner has to be Izabella’s heinous Hefner exposé. The sad condom-less sex contained therein, replete as it is with Viagra-induced boners and women faking moans for money, is far more in keeping with most “XXX” scenes. God help us.
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