Posts Tagged ‘review’
So when Carrie at Aslan Leather sent me the Rubber G, I also got the Leather Pleasure Harness, one of Aslan’s signature harnesses, and to me the most versatile. It has various configurations: two-strap, one-strap, driver pad or not, variable sizes of O-ring. The straps are thin and high quality leather, the craftsmanship, as I’d expect from Aslan, is lovely and detailed.
It has become my current go-to harness. It’s what I pull out when I want to play, it’s what I use.
This harness is leather. Beautiful leather. Buttery soft, well-treated leather. There’s nothing wrong with this leather whatsoever. Oh wait—yes there is: it’s porous, and absorbs liquid. For that reason, as with many other leather harnesses I have known and loved, I do not expect this harness to last.
2. Metal (Buckles & O-Rings)
I continually stress the quality of construction in Aslan products, and of course this is no exception. It’s lovely: there are buckles on both hips around the waist and sliding O-rings on the other two (or one) straps.
3. Style, Shape, Padding
This harness comes with a “driver pad,” the bit of padding that would sit behind the base of the dildo against the wearer, but I’ve removed it so there isn’t as much separating me from my cock and my girl. The straps are a little thin, which personally I like, but you may not—I do find they can dig in a little bit. I love the convertible strap style, and if you for example aren’t sure whether you prefer one style or the other yet, this is a great one to buy because it’s easy to change for one to the other as desired. It’s very adjustable and fits hips from 26″-44″ (and the larger version fits up 56″) comfortably.
I’m still in search of a harness this simple that is not leather, or perhaps just a harness with a replaceable or removable center strap that is not leather (probably rubber). But this is getting closer!
I’ve got a slightly customized Rubber G that I still need to report about … the center strap is a bit thinner, and I do like that better, and oh the rubber is growing on me. I love how easily it cleans up.
PS … Did I mention that Aslan Leather sent me a harness to give away at my Cock Confidence & Strapping It On workshop at Butch Voices NYC this weekend? Hope you got a ticket, because registration is sold out. I hear if you come early with a lot of patience you might (might) be able to get in. Thanks Aslan—can’t wait to draw a name and send someone home with a new toy.
Even though I started Anal Week way back in April, I’ve finally gone through all the posts and toys and reviews and things that I intended for it, so here’s the wrap-up.
Thanks so much to everyone who let me interview them about queer porn and anal tips! I had a good time doing a slightly more in-depth exploration of this, and I hope it was helpful to you too.
Okay, maybe I spoke too soon. Of course, as soon as I call something the “ultimate” anything, I’m going to find something missing. Hello? Sinclair? Did you not just host Anal Week (which lasted at least two weeks)? You make an Ultimate Masturbation Toys list, and forget something for the butt?
Whoops, my bad!
Well: good thing I can remedy that right away, cause I’ve got the Tristan Plug right here, not just waiting to be reviewed and written up but waiting to be used. And Kristen’s off at her baking apprenticeship …
You know who Tristan Taormino is, right? Her column in the Village Voice (largely compiled in the book True Lust: Adventures in Sex, Porn, and Perversion) changed my life and changed the way I think about sex. I’ve admired her work for many years, and still follow her everywhere I can.
Tristan has two—not one, but TWO—butt plugs named after her. The second and most recently produced plug is the Tristan Plug Anniversary Edition, which is, of course, a bit thicker. I got my hands on it and reviewed it about a year ago, but reflecting on it now, a year later, it’s not something I use very often. It’s kind of intimidating.
The original Tristan Plug was a bit slimmer and longer, measuring 3-1/4″ x 1-1/2″. And finally, I’ve added one to my arsenal, thanks to Babeland. What makes the Tristan Plug unique from all the other dozens of perfectly adequate silicone butt plugs on the market? Babeland describes it quite succinctly:
Designed by the Anal Sex Queen herself, Tristan Taormino, this power plug is ample in size and features. The combination of the bulbous head and pronounced elongated neck make this plug easy to keep in place. Rectangular flange makes retention a little easier by allowing a bit more room for your butt cheeks. Regal in shape and short on length, pop in the Tristan for anal satisfaction and play everywhere else.
That’s just it: the head and neck, plus the “flange” at the bottom, the shape of the flared base, mean that it stays in place easily. I haven’t tried it as a toy for longer wear, I know sometimes people like to wear a plug in public, but I’ve never tried it for that kind of thing. I hear it works very well, though.
So, while Kristen is still off and I’ve got the apartment to myself, I’m going to spend a little extra time with my favorite toys, and add the Tristan Plug to that list.
This, my friends and readers, is the Moon Glass Plug from Good Vibrations, and it is beautiful.
Can’t you tell already, just by looking at it? That blown glass with the gentle blue coming through it? (Maybe that’s just me. I do have a thing for blue glass. If I had it my way, all of my dishes would be blue glass.)
The other night, when Kristen and I were playing, I had her on her stomach in front of me, her chest down on the bed but her knees under her, ass up. We’d already been fucking for a while, she’d come three or four or eight times, who can keep track, and I slid my cock in from behind her while lubing up my fingers. For a while I just touched her asshole gently on the outside, I could feel her relaxing and starting to enjoy the feeling, opening up a little, pushing back against my finger and cock. I had the Moon Glass Plug out, ready to use, and touched it too against her asshole, but she wasn’t really ready for it, so I started with my fingers instead.
“Put your fingers on your clit,” I said.
She did, brought her hand down between her legs. I started sliding my finger into her asshole, just a little, really only knuckle-deep, just so she could feel it for a while. But it didn’t take long before she was getting all hot and squirming against me, bucking her hips harder, and I worked my finger a little faster in her ass, not deeper, just faster, which she liked, oh I could tell she liked it right away. I’m not sure what she did exactly, moaned maybe, or just responded physically in a way that was clear that was it, right there, perfect.
I noticed I’d kind of stopped moving my cock, so tried to get my hips going while she continued to work herself up. Now, this is a girl who can come by her own fingers in mere moments, so that it was taking much time at all was telling in that she must’ve been very worked up. I could feel her clenching hard on my cock, so hard in fact that she started to push me out, clenching her ass too, hand moving faster, gasping, as she came, hard.
So hard, in fact, that she ejaculated, gushed all over my cock and thighs. I silently thanked my Liberator Throe, and out loud, groaned. “That was so damn hot.”
I moved forward up to the pillow to hold her closer and kiss her for a while. She asked if I’d used the glass. “No,” I said, “that was my finger, just a little of it. Do you want to try it yourself?”
She took it from me and slowly worked it into her ass. For a while she said, “it’s too big, it’s too big!” but didn’t want to give up, and was certain she could do it if she moved slowly. I stayed next to her as she took the whole thing, finally, then brought her hands down to her cunt again to get off a few more times.
I told her I wanted to watch for a while, asked if she wanted my help.
“No,” she said. But then, later: “Lay on top of me?”
She likes the weight, holding her down. I spread my forearm across her breastbone and kissed her, my body slightly lifted from hers as she continued to work her hands between her legs. I like to watch the way her body gets all tense, then releasing as she comes.
I like to watch in general.
She came again, once nice and hard, then another for good measure, collapsing onto the bed. It took a little more work to get the plug out of her ass, since it’s pretty thick and spherical in the middle and has that skinny little neck before it flares to a plug. It’s only 3 1/4” long x 1 3/8” wide, but the shape makes a difference, and even makes it feel more thick than it actually is (though it is pretty thick).
And it’s gorgeous. Did I mention that it’s gorgeous? The most beautiful butt plug I own, though I don’t know if I usually describe them as “beautiful,” so perhaps that’s easy. The glass is smooth and hard, and very simple to clean. I haven’t tried it myself yet, but since it’s easily sterilizable, I will be. And I’m looking forward to seeing it in her ass again, too.
Kristen and I dispute how many times we’ve been to the particular play party that we attended on Halloween. I thought we’d been before at least once, but she thinks it was only one other party in the same space. Perhaps because we also attended a completely different party around the same time (where the rocking chair blow job happened) I am blurring the parties together.
Regardless, we hadn’t fucked in “public” in a long time, and Kristen had the perfect costume for the Halloween play party: this “Secretary” outfit from Liberator.
Okay, you got me: it’s more lingerie than costume. Really it’s just the cuffs and collar that cross it over that line. Not really sure why it’s a secretary outfit, either; I guess because it has pinstripes on it, it is business-y? Whatever. The lingerie is hot. It arrived in a lovely fancy black box in pink tissue paper, and since Kristen tried it on earlier in the week I’d been looking forward to fucking her in it.
This is only the second Liberator item I’ve been sent to review – the first being the Throe, the moisture-proof blanket Kristen and I use pretty much every time we have sex. Well, every time at my house, anyway; we should get a second for her place, too. I’ve been looking forward to more from their product line, particularly some silk pillowcases to see if something higher quality will do less damage to Kristen’s hair, which is inevitably a tangled mess after thrashing against the sheets for a while. (Those of you with fine, baby-thin hair out there may know this problem. So far there’s no cure except conditioner and a shower. Suggestions?)
Instead of the pillow cases, though, they sent us Kristen’s pick for lingerie, just in time for the Halloween party.
It’s kind of hard to order clothes online, especially lingerie, where it should be very form-fitting and specific to a body’s shape. Liberator lingerie comes in x-small, small, medium, large, x-large, and 2x, and the customer service folks told Kristen that it runs small, so she ordered what she thought would be the closest to her size. She seems pretty happy with the fit, but it was a bit of a gamble; we may try a slightly smaller size next time, but it’s hard to say, that one might be too small. Returns to Liberator have to be pre-approved, probably because they do sell all sorts of products for sexiness and they aren’t about to accept used sheets or used sex furniture, but if it’s because the lingerie was the wrong size I bet they would understand. Be sure to ask, though, if you’re not sure.
We dressed at my place; she slipped into it as I got my harness ready under my black slacks, tee shirt, and button-down. When I announced I was ready, she said she was too, and I thought, really? You’re going to wear that out, without anything on top of it? She zipped her jacket up over it, her very short jacket, coming only to her high waist. The garter is almost a mini-mini-skirt, if you stretch your mind a bit, and we were driving, walking only the few blocks from her apartment to the play party. Plus, it IS Halloween, which is practically Scantily Clad Day, and I’d be with her – it’d be okay. (It did make me feel a bit protective, but also hot, that she was willing to venture out into public wearing so little. And knowing I’d probably fuck her later in the same lovely outfit made it all the better.)
We arrived at the play party a bit late; it was packed and going strong. Someone recognized me upon my entrance (who were you? I could barely hear or see, I apologize) and Kristen and I made the rounds, watching the various scenes in progress already: someone holding onto the bars of the “jail cell,” two pairs of dykes giving/receiving blow jobs, someone on a leash being led around by someone very mistressy, a girl with lovely curves face down being smacked by her top in a cowboy hat. Every once in a while the music would quiet just a little and I’d hear someone screaming or yelling or moaning and go investigate – I do love that it is a safe space to come and be naked, be vulnerable, be exposed, and be hot and sexy.
We didn’t stay long, but we wanted to play at least a little. I like to show her off. I like for others to watch her and see how ridiculously sexy she is when she comes or how good she is at her particular talents, like sucking me off.
I’m not sure how it started; with a kiss, I think (isn’t that always how it starts?). I love the way she kisses, from subtle, supple energy to hard, insistent, demanding. I love how she meets me, pushes me for more, mouth and lips and tongue so sweet and open, lovely, tender. I can’t even explain it without resorting to cliche flower metaphors.
Somewhere in the winding labyrinth of little black nooks and crannies I leaned against the wall, feet apart shoulder blades pressing back, cock already tucked into my slacks when I was in the other room, not a packing cock but a fucking cock so it is straining at my zipper and pulling at my belt already. She presses against me and can feel it, rubs up against it, which makes me groan. She winds her fingers through my hair. Puts her mouth to my neck. I feel myself coming undone, coming thickly into my body and connecting to her, those invisible strings that pull us to each other becoming taut.
She wants to be somewhere more public. I want to be somewhere quieter, we were right under the speaker and I can’t hear her noises, can’t hear her breathing. I lead her into the back room, full of signs that read “BDSM and sex only – no chatting please,” where Crash Pad is playing in the background, and I find a chair. We keep kissing before I sit back into it, just enjoying reconnecting and building the sensuality between us.
To be honest, we hadn’t fucked in a while. A few days, probably. Maybe there was some morning making out in there, some quickies, but no half-day laze in bed like we are used to. We kept disconnecting, we’d traveled and had visitors and then were decompressing from a week of socializing, we weren’t arguing but I was particularly exhausted and not communicating that well or being very attentive. It was a relief to let the world fall away outside and just be with her, just feel her back and shoulders and waist, her ass all round and squeezable in that gorgeous high-waist garter.
We kissed for a long time. Standing, arms wrapped around each other, melting a bit, finding the edges of each other again. Finally I pulled back to say, “there’s a chair behind me. I’m going to get my cock out, you’re going to get on your knees. Got it?”
She nods. I kiss her again, so sweet, savoring her lips, and drop back to the chair behind me as she drops to the floor. It is doubtlessly good whenever she ventures to put her mouth on me, but this time was exquisite, the kissing still reverberating on my mouth, still feeling her tongue and pillowy lips, how is it that after nearly a year it just keeps getting better? (I ask myself this regularly.) She kisses the head of my cock, softly. I feel it jolt through my body. Her tongue running along the corona. I shiver, swelling. She pulls it into her mouth deeper with suction and my eyes roll back in my head, I nearly fall out of my chair.
I love to watch her this way. I let her go on, watching the room watching us a little bit, dykes over by the doorway biting their lips and sucking on their fingers absently, eyes fixed. Enjoying them enjoying the view of her ass, her back curved, leaning forward.
The couple in the far corner leaves and the swing is unused. I pull her mouth off my cock with my hand on her chin and kiss her. Her mouth is wet.
“Let’s go back into the corner.”
I tug on my slacks so they don’t fall down around my ankles, lead the way. I undo my button down and slip it off, set it on the bench next to the wall, by the swing and the table that is suspended by chains from the ceiling. She stands next to me as I drop down to my knees and unhook her garter belt to slide her black panties down her legs, then hook up the belt again.
“The swing?” I ask her. “Or the table?” Both are free. She looks over to the table coyly and we take a few steps over to it, maneuver her up onto it. Kind of hard to do without proper leverage. There was a couple fucking right here as we watched earlier and it’s kind of a thrill to do something similar to what they did. She lays back, grabs the chains for leverage, wraps her legs around my waist as I lube up my cock and slide it in. I work it in and out a little, softly, she’s quiet and not nearly responsive enough. I can’t reach her to kiss her from this ninety-degree angle at which we’re fucking.
I can’t hear her, either. The music is too loud, plus there’s porn playing on the TV behind us, and other people fucking nearby, so any joyful noise, so to speak, could be coming from anywhere. I can’t hear her. I can barely see her, it’s so dark in here, a windowless basement with only bare colored dim light bulbs from the ceiling and the light from the TV. It’s not enough for me to tell what’s going on with her, but I can feel it, something’s not quite right.
“You okay?” “Yeah.” She wants it to be okay. (So do I.) But we can both feel something is off.
We mess around for a little while, I hold her, hold her down, push her ankles onto my shoulders so her legs are up, touch her clit, she gets off once or twice. But her heart’s not in it, and she forces it a little, makes it happen faster than necessary. I suspect she wants to go.
I lean down to wrap around her for a moment and she responds immediately, softens and pulls up into me. “Let’s get out of here,” I say. She nods into my neck. We get up, clean up the area, put our clothes back on, I tuck my shirt in.
It was fun, thrilling to debut her lingerie in public, fun to show her off a little, thrilling to watch her go down on me in front of a room full of people. But it isn’t quite enough. We haven’t had enough connection lately. I need some cuddling and intimacy and kisses all night long, wrapping around each other and sleeping late, making breakfast and laughing and leisurely lazing around on the couch watching reruns of 30 Rock, holding hands. I need some quiet to ourselves, with the world on the outside shut off and put away. I need to catch up on the last week, decompress together, let her know what I thought of the parties and people and fun times and her cooking and all the events we’re sharing. I need things to just slow down so I could catch my breath.
I pack up my cocks, we get our jackets, venture back out into the cold, and walk the few blocks back to her place, where we whisper sweet nothings quietly before falling asleep together.
Following the Johnny review breakdown precedence, here's how the Outlaw cock by Vixen Creations from one of my very favorite sex toy stores stacks up. (Then I'll tell you a little embarrassing story concerning the Outlaw and a hotel room with Kristen.)Read More
The Indigo Girls have a new album out on March 24th, Poseidon and the Bitter Bug. (What’s up with that title? I don’t get it.) It’s a two-disc set, one electric version and one accoustic version of all the songs. Still a fairly regularly-priced CD, and it’s an interesting idea. I’m a big fan of their accoustic stuff, but I know others who like the rockin songs more, so maybe it’ll be lovely to have the different sounds.
I’m sorry but, helloooooo Amy Ray. That is a fabulous photo – of them both! – and really the only reason I’m writing this review is so I can point out how freakin butch Amy Ray is. In fact, I saw her live with her band – her ALL-BUTCH BAND – back in October, and was completely blown away. Amy was playing with Kaia Wilson, Julie Wolf, and Melissa York (see a whole bunch more photos from their west coast tour from indigospike on flickr), and they sounded so amazing together. Amy’s newest album Didn’t It Feel Kinder is one of the very few CDs I’ve actually spent money on in the last few years, so I can’t recommend it highly enough.
Except, just one thing about the photo: the tie tip should touch the middle of the belt buckle. Not sure why Amy’s tie is so short, maybe that’s some styly thing I don’t know about?, but it looks a bit awkward to me. (What’s the tie-length rule when one’s shirt is untucked? Or perhaps that rule presumes an always-tucked shirt.)
Kristen and I listened to it on the way back from a small trip to Boston last week, and she said something I thought was interesting – something like, what’s the point of a new Indigo Girls CD, the entire point is that you know all the words and sing along.
I forget that they’re seen as such a sing-along band. I’m not one to sing-along at concerts – I’m more of the guy glaring at the singers usually, though not at Indigo Girls concerts: it’s true, there are just too many songs that everyone knows, and that is a part of it. Going to Indigo Girls concerts every summer was a big part of my identity development – it’s like an Ani Difranco concert, which I’ve come to call “the family reunion” because of all the dykes, as in “are you going to the family reunion this summer?” “Oh yes, of course, I never miss ‘em.” – seeing all those gay women in one place was like going to Pride or the Dyke March, made me feel more at home in my own skin.
I still remember the first time I watched the video for Closer to Fine, my mind blew a bit. I couldn’t stop watching Amy’s delicious swagger and it definitely took me a while to figure out that I wanted to be her, not do her.
Take a listen to many of the songs on Poseidon and the Bitter Bug over at Indigo Girls.com so you can start memorizing the lyrics. Read Tina’s review here and leave a comment (on her blog! not mine!) to win a copy of it, if you like.
The four major things to consider about a cock are: length, girth, shape, and material. Here's how the Johnny from Babeland measures up.Read More
I watched Butch Jamie recently - you can imagine why I was intrigued, there are so few butches on screen, at all!, that I like seeing my kind represented and tend to seek out the queer films anyway, so of course I picked it up. And by picked it up, I mean, Wolfe Video was kind enough to send one to me.Read More