Posts Tagged ‘masturbation’
This episode of fucking with gender is brought to you by Babeland, one of the most fabulous feminist, woman-friendly, gender-friendly, and queer-friendly sex toy stores, and the (in)famous male sex toy: the Fleshlight.
Oh boy. Where do I begin?I’ve never fully written up the Mr. Man dildo – or the ‘blow job cock,’ as I tend to think of it – so let me introduce you to that first. Because without Mr. Man, I have even less use for a Fleshlight.
Mr. Man is by Jollies, and is 8.5″ long (6″ insertable) and 1.75″ in diameter, with balls that hang in front of the base, in front of the harness’s o-ring. The first draft of this cock was not made to go into a harness (you may’ve seen some of those reviews from some other sexblog folks last summer), but let me assure you, this one can strap on just fine. It is dense silicone, hard plastic but high quality, not very squishy but sterilizable, and it comes in “realistic” colors of chocolate, caramel, and vanilla.
The real kicker is this: it has a shallow indentation at the base made to go over the wearer’s clit, and a hollow center, a narrow tube down the middle from tip to base, which means when sucked, the wearer can feel pressure at the bottom. Yes, you can actually get off from a blow job with this cock.
Kristen (ever the willing co-toy-reviewer, I so appreciate that about her) says it’s actually a lot of work to keep that much pressure going while working on this cock. We’ve played with it quite a bit (remember the Rocking Chair Blow Job? Featured this cock) but I don’t usually grab for it when I want to get blown – since I got the Bandit I tend to go for that one. But that doesn’t mean this cock still doesn’t hold a certain thrill – oh lord it does – and I would list it in my top 10 toys, for sure.
I personally have never come this way. But damn, it feels goooood to feel her mouth working on me. I’ve often wondered how I could perhaps get better at using the Mr. Man, so I could come more easily. And I think that’s where I first came to the idea of playing with a Fleshlight or another guy’s toy, to practice the feeling of pressure on my clit that the Mr. Man creates, and see if there are perhaps better positions, or angles, or something, that make it easier for me to get off.
So I jumped on the chance when Babeland offered it up.
First, some information (copied from Babeland’s site): The Fleshlight is 8 inches in length with a removable base for greater length or vibe insertion. Made of phthalate-free “Reel Feel Super Skin.” The diameter is variable, 1/2″ x 3-1/2″. (The “reel feel super skin” part means it is NOT sterilizable, but it tends to be a solo toy, so unless you’re sharing, that probably doesn’t matter. Just something to note.) The inner part – the pink part – comes totally out of the case and can be turned inside-out for cleaning, which should be with warm water. In order to keep it soft, like many of the other “real skin” toys, it should be dusted with cornstarch.
I know, I know, you want to know that good stuff. What did it feel like to stick my dick in it? Did it feel like fucking? Was it possible to get off?
I could definitely feel it – the Fleshlight did create enough suction to pull on the Mr. Man and feel it in my clit. But I didn’t get off that way, and after a while (a few minutes at least, my hand was getting awfully tired) I keep getting increasingly frustrated – why not just use my hand?! It feels like … the cock and the Fleshlight are just in the way. And my hand gets really fucken tired – it’s a pretty tight fit, as you can imagine my cock doesn’t have any give to it, really, so sometimes it’s really tight and a lot of work to get it in and out.
It really wasn’t the fireworks I was hoping for.
But then, I ran across Babeland’s How To Use The Fleshlight guide, and that helped. Read some reviews of it, too, and that made a difference. I soaked it in warm water before using, and I lubed it up a lot better than I had before, which made it more pliable and easier to fuck. I tried it out in as many positions as I could think of, and thrusting into it rather than moving it on my cock is better, but problematic, and still a bit uncomfortable.
I like the idea of having it mounted somewhere, or between the mattresses, or somewhere stationary, but uh, that’s kind of more like fucking a real person, I guess, which is why it feels better. I know it’s not like all of us can just go, “hm, do I want to fuck the Fleshlight, or should I fuck this attractive chick, here?” I assume there’d be no contest. But for me, the options are more like, okay, do I want to wait until I can fuck a real person strapped-on, and get off with my hands actually touching my clit, or do I want to fuck the Fleshlight? And that’s a pretty easy answer.
I haven’t written it off entirely, and there is something about the genderfuckery of it all that is very appealing – and hot. I think I’m kind of hard to get off, in general, and this doesn’t really seem to make it any easier, so while I might get occasionally inspired to get back to it and try something else, I don’t think I’ll use it regularly.
I’m so glad I got a chance to try it, though. I never would’ve known, and I always would’ve wondered.
When I look up, a few minutes later, there she is: sitting on the floor in a row I can hardly see, at first she is only visible by her bare legs on the dirty carpet, seated like I am on the floor, knees all bent, one tucked under her gray skirt which is a small mess of cover for her thighs. I slowly shift my body further into the aisle. Her back is to me, and she holds up a mirror in front of her – I catch glimpses of her face reflected. The dark nerdy frames of her glasses, the line of her jaw, her chin, then her mouth. She takes out a tube of lipstick, twirls it erect, and paints the perfect outline of her lips. Slow, real slow. She presses them together and presses them forward in a kiss, makes an O with her mouth and touches just the tip of her finger to the edge.Read More
So, the Masturbate-a-Thon is this weekend – Saturday, in fact. Why have I completely missed that May is (annually!) Masturbation Month? Usually I am well aware of this fact ahead of time. I have in fact participated in the Masturbate-a-thon three times in the past. I’d love to do it again.Also? On the Masturbate-a-Thon webpage is a fabulous little musical ditty by the Wet Spots: “masturbation, it’s okay, we all get to do it in a special way …” which then goes on to describe the different ways various animals masturbate … porcupines, a lioness, a spider monkey …
The Wet Spots – a “sophisticated sex comedy” duo – are somewhat infamous now from their YouTube video Do you take it (in the ass)?, so I was happy to run across their webpage & their other work.
But. Back to the subject at hand: masturbation.
I’ve actually been feeling somewhat scared & traumatized about masturbation lately. Don’t get me wrong – let me explain. Not to get too into my own private … um, practice, but I usually don’t really have any hangups or issues or blocks when it comes to getting off. I just do it, it’s pretty easy (I do know what I like, after all) and that’s that.
But lately? Since the breakup. I just haven’t been able to do it. Haven’t been “in the mood”, no, which is fine, I’m not rushing it, but sometimes I guess I kinda have been in the mood, or at least, I’ve been at home alone for multiple hours, which in a usual case scenario would involve me getting off, at least once.
But now … when I get turned on, I think of her. I still have so many bodily memories of her, of us together, especially when it comes to sex, which is where she was at her most raw, and where I was at my most … perfect. Everything snapped right into place. Jigsaw pieces. I knew exactly how to read her, how to respond to her body, her eyes, her movements, how to shift myself, how to take, how to give. I’ve never had anything like that, I miss it.
It’s hard to write that, actually. Hard to feel that grief well up in my chest. Impossible to feel it, when I’m also simultaneously trying to get off.
Her fantasies wove themselves deep in me. She tapped into so many things that I wanted, so much of my desire. It’s hard not to think of sexy things when getting off, and sexy things, right now, for me, are, well, her.
I’ll unlearn that, right? I’ll find other women attractive again, someday, somehow?
I used to walk down the street and just swoon, fall in love with every third girl, and it’s summer now, god, the strappy sandals and swirly skirts and bare legs … I have been so easily influenced by the sidewalk parade of femininity the last two summers I’ve spent here in New York City.
But this time? Barely. An occasional redhead catches my eye. An occasional perfectly shaped ankle, or swishing skirt. I even worry that if – when – I get back into bed with a girl, I’m going to freeze up, thinking of her (or saying her name, lord).
There really is a very small, small percentage of the population to which I am attracted. Femme women, yes, but even more specifically: poise. Legs. Posture. The way she looks when nobody’s looking at her.
I guess this comes back to a new resolution of mine, which is to date myself. For a year, approximately. I will be in an open relationship with myself, which means I am free to date other people too, but I am going to be my primary partner. I am going to focus on my needs, emotionally, creatively, sexually. I am going to take myself out to fancy dinners on occasion, to films, to museums, to days in the park. If there’s one thing this relationship has taught me it’s that I am good – good – at seduction, at courtship, and I am going to turn my own charms inward and see if I can sweep myself off my feet.