Oh my god, if I had sex toys like these I would want to keep them on display in my bedroom! So many lovelies, so many yummy designs…..

I could convince my mom this is an art glass mushroom if she saw it in my apartment.

Since this one’s even bigger (I’m squirming in my seat as I imagine it filling me!), it would be even easier to convince somebody it isn’t what they think. Wouldn’t it be fun to be scolding them for their dirty minds while laughing inside!

How many people would look at this and automatically think ‘dildo’? I probably wouldn’t…..but think of how good those raised swirls would feel!

Oh my…..things are getting mighty damp now. Nice and thick, interesting curve, and look at those nubbies. Whew!

I saved my favorite for last. It doesn’t have the pretty colors (or the expense of dichroic glass!) or patterns that the others here have, but the Victorian-era looks of this toy, and thinking how fiendishly it could be used, have me trembling.

Uh, s’cuse me for a bit…..I need to go take care of something!

I’ve always wondered what the deal was with those clear plastic penis pumps — they are advertised as a penis enlargement tool, but what good is a huge penis that’s inside a hard plastic vacuum chamber? Here’s someone who set out to find out:

So last week Juicy Wife and I ordered some sex toys (one of which was a penis pump). Saturday evening, while Wife was out on the town, I got a chance to play around with said pump. The sole reason I got it was pure novelty — what would it be like to have a massive circus schlong for all of 8 seconds?

At first, it was quite enjoyable. I slipped the chamber over my (non-erect) self and began pumping away. With this model of penis pump, your cock rests inside this little sleeve at the base and as your dick expands, it gets slowly pulled upward through the sleeve — which was actually kind of pleasureable. (If you lube up first. Must use lube with this thing.) My favorite part was when the head finally popped through the sleeve and up into the chamber; it had grown fucking ENORMOUS. I kept pumping away, drawing my cock further north and swelling it to even larger proportions. I got this weird thrill, like I was a mad scientist bringing Frankenstein to life. IT’S ALIIIIVE!!

After that, things went downhill. The little sleeve is very, very tight and doesn’t actually expand along with your growing penis. So you’re left with one half of your cock looking gigantic and swollen, and the other half compressed within the tiny restrictive sleeve. This also makes it nearly impossible to remove … you literally have to fight your own penis to get it off. After wrestling with it for 3 minutes, I had nearly lost all my sex drive.

So I wouldn’t recommend the cock pump. Unless you have a very narrow penis that can rest comfortably in that sleeve.

He went there so you don’t have to.

Long ago I blogged about fucking machines, but in the years since, this post by Audacia Ray at Waking Vixen is the first detailed account I’ve seen from a woman who has gamely taken one of the machines for a good test ride:

Dacia vs. The Machine

or How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love the Robocock

So in the quest to make my life experience increasingly peculiar, last night I had an, um, encounter with a fucking machine. How, you may ask, would this come about? Well, I was contacted a while ago by a photographer who is interested in the intersection between sexuality and machines… an interesting conversation resulted and the revelation that said photographer is in possession of a fucking machine (you know, one of these things). Was I intrigued? Well, considering that I was already intrigued by his project, yes I certainly was.

So, fast forward to last night, when I filled my suitcase with clothes, shoes and sex toys and made my way to the studio we were shooting in. We started out with some still pics for a bit of warm up and utilized my very red wardrobe and collection of high heels. I was amused to find that it’s becoming much easier to walk in 5 inch stilettos; when I put on my platforms I felt almost like I was wearing sneakers, they were so easy to move around in. Hey, strutting in 5 inch heels is a useful life skill for me.

After a while, the photographer took out the fucking machine for me to admire and ponder. It was basically a metal suitcase like the kind you see carrying millions of dollars in those gangster movies. Except inside of it was the metal that makes the hump possible, and it had a metal pole sticking out of it. It came with a collection of dildos (the icky flesh colored, veiny jelly rubber ones) but I was delighted to find out that my favorite silicone dildo happened to have a hollowed out space perfectly sized for said metal attachment. Well then. We turned the machine on its end so the dildo was pointing skywards, twisted its control on, and watched mesmerized as it pumped at the ceiling. Another twist of the knob and it pumped faster.

The photographer turned to me and said, “So what do you think?”

My eyes still locked on the machine, I responded, “Well, it’s kind of scary. But the noises it makes are less terrifying than I thought they’d be; I thought it would sound more like a jackhammer. Let’s do it.”

He raised his eyebrows at me and said, “You’ll be the first to have a go with it. Other models have been curious about it, but everyone’s been too afraid of it to actually use it.”

Leave it to me to take the machine’s virginity and give it my robot love virginity in exchange.

To warm myself up for the machine, I did a bit of a strip tease with the video camera trained on me, unzipped my dress (hey, I’m a class act, what can I say?), sat down in a comfy chair and began to play with my pussy. I dipped my fingers in my mouth and then smeared the wetness on my freshly shaved labia. By this time I was distracted by the task at hand, so I forgot about being careful with my lipstick and probably fucked it all up, but who cares — I was getting ready to make sweet robot love. I lingered with my fingers pulling at my labia, mixing spit and cunt juices together, rubbing my clit into the awakened state that always makes my piercing jut at an odd angle. I reached beside my chair for my trusty lube and toys and started to use the mini slimline all over my vulva; its hard plastic occasionally chattering over my piercing. I felt my labia plump up and the area just above my pubic bone swell. I pressed down on it and slid the vibe inside me at an angle so that I’d touch my g-spot while also bearing down on it from above. Good, cross-eyed stuff. While keeping the vibe in place with one hand, I reached for my lumina wand with the other. I was ready for some harder g-spot banging. Chatter chatter chatter was the sound of the moment as the slimline collided with my piercing and the lumina wand, and sometimes both at once. I felt my juices start to drip out of me and expand down the insides of my thighs — I was ready for robot love. I tapered off with the vibrator and announced, “I’m ready for it.”

We shuffled things around a bit and tried to figure out the optimal position for machine fuckery. Since the floor was looking none too comfy for laying or kneeling on, we decided that it would be best if I stood over the machine, with it poking me from below. I had to take my fabulous stilettos off for this portion of the evening’s program so that I could balance better. I lubed up my dildo and inserted it before turning the machine on, and then slowly twisted the knob. With a click and a grind, the machine sprung to life, and on its first upward thrust popped out of my pussy. This much I can say — though the machine repetitively thrusts in the exact same way, it is still no easier to keep the cock-pussy connection going than it is with a real live cock. Or maybe I just need more machine-fucking practice.

After getting the hang of the machine for a while, we decided that I should turn around and angle the thing so that I would be getting fucked from behind, though still standing up. We put a stool in front of me for leaning against, and this position worked much better, partly due to the fact that I was no long looking directly at the machine and being fascinated by the hump mechanism (yes, that’s a technical term). I could concentrate more on the solid fucking the thing was administering once I was propped up on my elbows and pointing my ass at machine (and camera). I dropped my left hand down onto my clit and realized that my pussy was a sopping mess (in a good way).

I closed my eyes, listened to the steady hum of the machine behind me, and went to town on my clit. That dildo isn’t my favorite for nothing — its smooth swells rubbed my g-spot in just the right way, and the wide base stretched my cunt wide for a spilt second as the machine penetrated me to the hilt. Though at first I had been too concerned with the mechanics of the operation (and I’ll admit, a little self-conscious about being on camera) to think that I’d be able to make an orgasm happen, it was becoming a reality. I felt myself slip into my head and body a bit more, and I looked down to see my legs violently shaking.

The gears inside the suitcase groaned against my pulsing cunt muscles. It made a bit of a cranking noise and I wondered for a second if my orgasm was going to push the cock out (it didn’t), but then I got lost in the feeling of coming. With a soft sigh, my body began to go slack, and I slowed the machine to a stop. I disengaged, still shaking and a little flushed. The photographer watched me shaking subtly before him for a second, and then asked, “So, how was it?”

“It was… good. Interesting. I was able to get into it more when I wasn’t looking at the shiny metal of the machine.”

So, it wasn’t the most fearsome orgasm ever, and I didn’t go totally nuts about the machine, but I think given some practice and a different position (how about not standing up), my robot love skills could increase exponentially. Now there’s a useful life skill to have.

It’s a truism in the internet age that sex drives the development of technology. Perhaps this photo gallery of bronze sex toys from ancient China underscores the point, with an example from the days when metallurgy was the cutting edge of high tech:

After finishing the database project, I thought I’d have plenty of time to do some juicy writing this weekend. But no …. between spending some time with Contender #1 (nice time, no sex yet) and helping a friend with computer problems (don’t get me started), it slipped away.

In addition, the thought of writing out this fantasy leaves me hornier than ever … so, I guess I’m gonna do it. That’s right, I’ve been browsing sex toy sites. I like Sex Toys because they have reviews.

So, at the risk of getting overloaded with TMI, I’m inviting feedback. What products do you like best, and what ones aren’t worth the money? You can leave feedback here, via comments, or (preferably) send me an email. Warning: I can receive email fine, but there’s a glitch in sending, so I won’t be able to reply through email. If you don’t want your email shared here, please say so when you write.

Maybe I should give this quest a catchy slogan …
How about “Help the Pathetic Sex Goddess Buy Her First Toy”? Nah ….
“Lubes for Nubes”? Nope …
“Get the Goddess Off!” Has possibilities. :blush:

Okay, so this an entirely predictable post. I’ve been waiting seven days to see what Gina Lynn would write on in her first Wired Magazine “Sex Drive” column. So after I gulped down enough coffee for my eyes and fingers to work moderately well, I fired up the ol’ browser and mosied over, to read about a new remote-controlled dildo that is seriously remotely controlled:

In other words, a man can be thrusting in Cleveland while a woman is penetrated in Seattle, and the cybersex experience gets one step closer to the holodeck.

Here’s a link to the entire interesting column. As someone who’s never had a need for sex toys (but that day is getting closer), this whole idea is weirdly kinky-cool.

Speaking of vibration, the fine folks at Eros Boutique sent along a box the other day with a couple of vibrators. (Yes, Virginia, Bacchus is always happy to accept free sex toys in exchange for a review.) Although they have a lot of excellent goodies for sale, The Nymph and I were disappointed in these two items.

First: Spice Incognito Nail Polish Vibe. Powered by included watch batteries, this vibe looks like a bottle of nail polish and is very discrete. So discrete, in fact, that at first I couldn’t figure out how to turn it on. I finally figured out that I had turned it on, but the vibration was so faint I had to stand completely still and concentrate in order to detect it humming in my hand. Nifty if that’s what you like, but as a guy I’m in the “more power” camp and the Nymph doesn’t appear to disagree. When they sell a vibrator with a built-in cold-fusion reactor so the neighborhood lights don’t dim when it starts up, I’ll probably want one.

Second: I Kit – The Pocket Rocket Complete Kit. No complaints about the base vibrating unit on this model; it buzzes quite vigorously and made The Nymph happy. However, the attachments don’t stay attached very well; even the slightest sideways pressure and they pop off. Since the attachments are small, this raises the spectre of one disappearing into an orifice – which is never sexy unless you have a medical fetish. Also, the attachments are apparently supposed to be flavored (the box advertises availability in “three blissful flavors” including strawberry, blueberry, and grape) but in fact they have a very strong odor and flavor of PVC plasticisers — you know, that vinyl air-mattress smell. You can tell (sort of) that there’s a hint of fruit smell blended into the mix, but it’s overwhelmed by the vinyl smell. Great for folks with a vinyl fetish!