My friend Kristi loved anal sex, and she loved electrical play. She was terrified of the two together. The image in her mind was having her ass jolted, screaming.
Half an hour later, she was face-down on my bed, gurgling happily. The plug was smooth, and it had gone in warm and wet. I watched the plug move in her butt. “This is so relaxing,” she said.
I’ve done a fairly thorough overview of electrified vaginal plugs, and I thought I’d review some anal electrodes.
I take Heather to Le Central for lunch. Le Central is a sweet little French restaurant just south of downtown, serving delicacies in an ivy-encrusted back room bathed in sunshine. Heather is sexy, open, daring. The hostess seats us, and Heather takes in the room: its gorgeous deep daylight, the abundant greenery. She grins, and excuses herself to go to the bathroom, but I stop her.
I hand her a small package. “You’ll know what to do with it,” I tell her, giving her a wicked half-smile.
She heads off. Inside the package she will find a vial of silicone-based lubricant and an insertable vibrating egg. I order a cup of coffee.
She returns, grinning, and sits across the table from me. Maybe she’s a little more aware of the diners at nearby tables, the hum of conversation. I reach into my pocket, where the remote control is waiting. I press the button once, and a second or two later Heather emits a sound of delight.
The waitress arrives. Heather doesn’t know her way around French food, so I order for the two of us. She shoots me a conspiratorial look, enjoying the covert eroticism of a vibrator secretly buzzing inside her while the waitress enumerates today’s specials. I press the button again, turning up the power, and Heather gurgles. The waitress looks at her for a moment, and then I continue the order.
The waitress leaves, returning with my coffee. It’s a bitter Columbian coffee. I like it black. I take a sip and swirl it around my mouth, savoring the warmth, the bitter, the flow of it. It’s delicious. I hit the button again, turning up the power.
I point out the decor to Heather, who seems distracted. She doesn’t seem to take in the details of the room, which is sad, because the room is so pretty. It has l’esprit de terroir — that spirit of place that can imbue a memory with so much meaning. No one recalls the details of a dinner at Taco Bell, but here, in the shining back room of Le Central, there’s space to let your mind reach out and touch every corner of the windowed room.
I’m planning to order us some creme brulee for dessert, and I don’t want Heather to go numb before then, so I decide to turn off the vibrator. And here is where things start to go wrong.
City Hall in South Portland, Maine, has proposed a new set of rules around the sale of sex toys, after some jerk complained about Spencer’s.
The Australian case against a teacher accused of having sex with an underaged student continues. “The prosecutors also came in for some harsh words from the bench on Friday after they had tendered 15 dildos and vibrators seized by police from Tominac’s bedroom at her home without establishing any link between the items and the alleged offences.”
In Tokyo, a nyotaimori restaurant was shut down after a salmonella outbreak. Nyotaimori is sushi served on the skin of naked women. Apparently customers had been bringing their own vibrators, stimulating the women with them, and dipping the sushi into the wet.
“British commercials for condoms and vibrators are the best in the world.”
A man in South Africa is on trial for raping his girlfriend, who sells sex toys. She claims he raped her repeatedly one night, took photos, and sent the nude pics to his friends. The defense argues that it was consensual; after all, “she is an agent for sex apparatus, handcuffs and vibrators.” Well then, hu must be innocent!
Tokyo sex shops, hit hard by the economic times, have apparently begun recycling condoms.
Lynn Crosbie writes, “I have long assumed that teen female mania about Tiger Beat-ish boys is the result of complicated relationships with masturbation: If sex-ed classes brought out and patiently explained shower-heads, vibrators and Frisky Fingers, teen idols would not exist.” This from an article about the vampiric celibacy franchise, Twilight.
A new sex toy store, Romeo and Juliet’s Adult Boutique, is opening near Shakespeare’s birthplace. Predictably, a local Vicar objected, forgetting that Shakespeare liked sex more than he liked Vicars.
The ShockSpot
Author’s note: This was a review of an earlier model, so a lot of information is out of date in reference to the newer models. Some more recent observations are available here.
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The ShockSpot is compact, sturdy, and shiny. It’s made from top-notch 80/20 materials. It’s programmable, positionable, and visually impressive. If the ShockSpot had been brilliantly designed, it would be a bargain — even at $2,200.
But what is it that we actually want from a fucking machine, anyway? This is the kind of question that sex toy designers really need to ask.
Tentacles!
Suction’s an amazing sensation. Right now, there is no “best,” no “perfect” suction toy for women.
A lot of the toys advertised as “pussy pumps” are rigid. They have a curve, intended to be a universal curve, but women’s bodies (joyfully!) are varied; one woman’s shape is different from another’s.
What’s needed is a softer, flexible suction cup. It should incorporate a decent vibrator and an okay source of suction.
An Australian science teacher is on trial for having an affair with one of her students. But why, the judge wants to know, did prosecutors tender 15 sex toys found in her home as evidence?
Scandals plague the Cronulla Sharks, a rugby team. Among the scandals: it’s said that team members were given sex toys.
A British study found that tech nerds make the best lovers. Their criteria for a good lover? One who is selfless in bed, adventurous, and likely to use sex toys.
The Rack in Las Vegas is a shop for porn and sex toys. The owners decided to get involved in show biz, opening the Onyx Theatre around back. And theatre critics were floored.
In South Africa’s Sun City, a woman was kicked out of a conference where she’d been invited to display vibrators for sale.
A website out of Kansas sells sex toys for charity.
The University of California at Santa Barbara put on its annual Sex Affair, highlighting sex toys and BDSM implements.
Anti-sex toy lunatic crusader Shanda Perkins is still trying to become a member of Texas’ parole board.
Yakima, Washington, has passed a new ordinance that places restrictions on the sale of sex toys.
A Malaysian “expert” warns that sex toy use has “caused relationships to end in divorce on their wedding night.”
London researchers found that women with high emotional intelligence may have more orgasms, too.
Feeling the music.
It’s called “synesthesia” when your senses blend together. You can taste music, or feel a smell, or hear a color. These are beautiful strange moments. A song might glow like a bright white light with darker green edges; a lover’s touch could become a deep note held for a long time.
That’s synesthesia.
For a while now I’ve been working on a music system. I call it the Synestheatre. The idea is simple: I want to play music for a woman so that she hears it and sees it and feels it, all through her body. Lie on your back, close your eyes, and let the music play you.
A sex toy zine
It came in the mail today, and kept on coming. I opened the large envelope, and was greeted with a spread of catalogs, followed by a sheaf of postcards, and the booklet I ordered. There was a sticker, too. There was even a brown paper bag that had been stapled shut; the word YOU was printed on the outside. I opened it carefully. Inside was a personal letter, written by someone I don’t know, intended for someone I don’t know.
I had become an accidental voyeur, a spy on the private lives of strangers.
All this fun had erupted because I’d spent two dollars on a pamphlet devoted to making your own sex toys.
The uPapa will play you like a drum!
“Hm,” she says. A few moments later, she says, “Oh.” The drumming continues, and she says, “Mmmmm.” Her face is flushed.
She’s naked, straddling my uPapa. The seat is tapping her thighs, tapping her ass, in sophisticated rhythms. It actually feels like being drummed — like drumsticks are hammering out a tune on her butt and the backs of her legs. She leans forward, so the percussion will land closer to her “sweet spots.”
An Australian woman was denied bail after stealing sex toys.
It was the first magazine that ever ran an article providing independent testing of sex toys — any guesses?
Shanda Perkins led a crusade against passion parties in Texas. Then the Governor nominated her for the parole board. How did that work out? Not too well.
Playboy has decided to expand its retail line. But not to sex toys.
Filmmaker Sid Dukie is planning to release a series of films about the private lives of figures from American history — including Ben Franklin’s love for wooden dildos.
Chef Heston Blumenthal serves a glow-in-the-dark absinthe jello made with strawberry juice and elderflower; its wiggle is powered by vibrators.
Brown Bag v. Pure Romance: when two sex toy party companies clash, they wind up in court.
When Christian groups organized to protest South Africa’s Sexpo, the Sexpo offered to give them a tour.
A Boston man is charged with stealing more than a thousand dollars’ worth of sex toys.
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