Wednesday Wank: The Screaming Octopus

You know, I'm not much for the whole tentacle sex thing.

I mean, I dig that there are folks who get off on having their orifices penetrated by real or simulated cephalopods, I'm just not one of them.

The Screaming Octopus from VibeReview might have changed my mind about the use of invertebrates as pervertables. I mean, look at it! It's so cute! And who can resist a toy with that name? Not me, and that's why I tried it out last week with Kelly.

The idea is simple enough: a smallish bullet that runs on two watch batteries and is covered in a soft rubber octopus body, complete with eight splaying arms. Press the button on top et voila--a superfast buzz that sounds a bit like a mosquito. The shape of the octopus is perfect for surrounding a nipple, which is what I ended up doing a lot with Kelly while he was jerking off for me.

Another "I'm so glad someone thought of this" feature is the handy strap up top (Not pictured, but it's there), which allows the user to control where the vibe goes, without touching the motor with his or her fingers, thus keeping the vibrations strong and right where they should be. I dragged that thing across Kelly's nipples, balls and perineum, and he called it "nice." This is high praise, since when he totally wants to jump my bones he says he "wouldn't mind" fucking.

The Screaming Octopus is, as you might expect, waterproof. (Thank goodness, or its little arms would get all shriveled having to stay dry all the time!) Naturally, I took it for a leisurely swim dans le bain later that night.

Me likey.

The Screaming Octopus has, I think, found a home in my shower; to be produced at regular intervals when making out or making looove. The soft rubber is easy to clean, and the hummingbird-fast vibrations are a nice change from deeper, more intense frequencies you'll find in larger products. This is not an "if you must buy only one vibrator, buy this one" toy; the vibrations are, in my opinion, less than ideal for pure wankage, you can't put it inside your body, and it's only got one speed.

But as an accessory? As a nipple/clit/bum stimulator? It's sweet and lovely and I totally want to give one to all my girlfriends.

Order at VibeReview through November 4 and save 10% with this coupon!

What Men Do

Some men break your heart without even knowing it.

This week's Sex Blog Roundup over at Fleshbot is dedicated to boy bloggers. These gents have the whole "get her wet with words" thing down pat, and I, for one, am saddened that one of my favorite male bloggers is bidding us "Adieu." Easily Aroused, I'mma miss you, baby.

Speaking of babies, I was babbling like one the other day, during a marathon lunchtime fuck. Not talking, really, but the occasional AhGodddddd did pour forth from my throat, possibly reaching the ears of my neighbor who likes to sit on his porch not far from my bedroom and smoke cigarettes.

Tell you what, I felt like joining him after Kelly left, but I had things to do.

Seems unfair that work should follow two hours of naked abandon, but I managed to breeze through the rest of the day. And everywhere I went that afternoon seemed clear and bright through my freshly fucked eyes.
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Now playing: Cat Stevens - The First Cut Is The Deepest
via FoxyTunes
(If it's got a tambourine and is melancholic I will love it. Thanks a whole fucking lot, Yusuf.)

Wednesday Wank: The VibeReview Silver Bullet

When I’m stressed out, when I don’t want to work too hard, or when straight-up banging with a partner just isn’t quite getting me there, there’s one toy I’ve been reaching for consistently for years: The Silver Bullet.

I’ve gone through several incarnations, from double bullets to cyberskin-coated flicky bullets, to bullets whose controllers glowed in the dark, but one fact has remained: The bullet is one of the least expensive, most sure-fire masturbatory aids I’ve ever had the pleasure of convulsing around.

The design is simple; straightforward. There are no variable pulsation patterns or glowy switches, just a simple bullet connected to a slim plastic controller with an easy-to-work-even-if-you’re-having-issues-focusing heart-shaped slider. The best feature of the Silver Bullet, in my opinion, is the fully adjustable speed. I like not being stuck with one or the other, and the easy, one-handed operation means no fuss when I need a little less buzz.

Use it on its own for a leisurely, cliterrific roll in bed, or pair it with an insertable dong or vibe for fully adjustable, mind-blowing stimulation likely to result in a well-deserved nap.

In my other role as a sex advisor for all my friends and countless others on the innerwebs, I recommend this toy over and again. There are no worries about parts lining up, as some of us have experienced with rabbit-type vibes, and you can use it on girls and boys alike. Technically, you’re not supposed to put it up your butt, but I’ve been known to throw a condom on one and stick it into a boy while I’m blowing him. Two tips: Keep a hold on the condom, and never pull it out by the cord. You don’t want to expose the copper wire that runs into the motor end of the bullet.

At least, um, that’s what I’ve heard. Zing!

Also, since it is so reliable and simple and easy to keep inside a pillowcase, I tend to use this toy for long periods of wanking and I’ve found that I need to switch the bullet from left to right and back to avoid the dreaded Clawhand. You know what I’m talking about.

The Silver Bullet is a pretty universal accoutrement, and as such will get you virtually NO stares (let alone bag searches) at airport security. Just remember to turn the batteries around, or your carry-on might give the dude sitting in front of you the Best. Plane. Ride. Ever.

Say Nice Things About Me When I'm Gone

If you don't believe in karma--if the notion that you'll get what you need if you're open to receiving it makes you roll your eyes--don't read this.

I have had a startlingly unpleasant week, and without going into details (sorry, internets), suffice it to say that the world wasn't looking so rosy to my pale blue eyes.

Then, today I found two (TWO!) really nice things written about me on Amazon, of all places. The first is by Maui Dude, who reviewed Spanked: Red-Cheeked Erotica and writes:

My favorite lead paragraph was provided by Madeline Glass in "Laser Tag":

"The first time he spanked me, I thought he was a pervert. The second time he did it, I wondered if I was. By the third time, I was certain that we both were."

Readers of this book might undergo a similar progression:

"After the first story, I thought Rachel was a pervert. Reading the second story, I wondered if I was. By the third story, I was certain that we both were."

Aw, thanks, Maui Dude!

This next one was just a totally random Googling of my name, which I don't do that often and, truth be told, but this time I was pleasantly surprised with, not idle gossip, but with praise for a grammar-Nazi post I wrote last year. HankMoody waxes about the use of superfluous and mutilated language:

While we're at it, I'm thinking we can also dispense with "anyway" and my particular pet peeve, the perverse "anyways."

My favorite blogger Madeline Glass had a great entry about this called "Heads Up, Folks: Politika Grammatika" and you can read about it here.

I love Madeline Glass!
Sources: Madeline Glass and my brain

Now, see? That was so nice! Random? Maybe. Effective? Very.

No more feeling blue for me. Two people who don't know me are (Gasp! Shock!) not concerned with my private life. I think they kind of maybe think I'm smart. And they favorited me. That's really nice.

So, thanks, gents. Even though one of you wrote what you did six months ago, I just found it, and it made me smile.

Beautiful. Agony.

play windows media

play quicktime

beautifulagony.com

Words

This week at Fleshbot looks at the words we use when we’re naked. Raw, amorous and filthy language somehow becomes more meaningful when we’re naked and getting dirty. I don’t mean to say that I’m such a nasty talking girl, because I’m not. Frankly, I feel a little silly when someone wants me to talk dirty and say things like, “yeah, baby, fuck me with your big thick rod.”

I mean, I just can’t. As much as I talk in regular life--and it’s a lot--during sex I’m not a big conversationalist.

But what I do say—what I am during sex—is honest.

Whether it’s telling someone how I really feel about them, or hissing, “If you keep doing that, I’m going to come,” or saying everything with only the expression on my face, communication just seems deeper and more significant when there’s fucking attached.

The other day, Kelly was lying on his stomach across my bed. I was kneeling next to him and massaging his lower back and then, because they were there, his asscheeks. Kelly’s ass is smooth and firm (Thanks, swimming!) and as I was kneading his glutes my fingers accidentally slipped down toward his balls and stroked the soft, downy blond hair there.

I couldn’t help it. I said it. “Baby, I love the hair on your butt.”

“Aw, stop making fun...”

“No, I mean, technically it’s the hair at the top of your inner thighs; is that better?” I raked my fingers lightly across it, right where his balls hang.

Then, to prove I was serious, I kissed it. Then I licked it. Then he flipped me onto my back and pinned me down and I don’t think he cared about semantics anymore.

But I do. I love that boy's downysoft butt hair.

Wednesday Wank: The Iris Pleasure Object by Lelo

Let me start by saying that I’m a pretty no-nonsense girl when it comes to jacking off: Fancy features like Internet connectivity on sex toys basically serve to annoy and frustrate me. I want to know that the object I choose is going to be simple enough to use, yet stand up to a) rigorous use and b) my elitist snobbery regarding things I put into my vagina.

For years my favorite G-Spot vibe was my trusty Celebrity/Slimline/Orchid G. It’s a ball on a stick, folks, nothing fancy, and yet very consistent in producing some very intense orgasms. So imagine my chagrin when, not only would I burn through vibrator motors every two months or so, batteries were constantly being changed and I started to think of ways to be able to afford my wanking habit. Should I brown bag it? Keep the thermostat at 78 degrees in the summer?

Well, I already do those things, so a rechargeable G-Spot vibe seemed the next most economical solution. So I went to Vibreview.com and ordered the Iris vibe by Lelo.

The Iris is, firstly, an attractive vibrator. It looks like a flower coming into bud, and has a lovely curved body, which puts the business tip of the shaft right in contact with my G-Spot tissue. I liked that I didn’t have to fiddle with the placement much: The Iris just slides into my body and stays right where I need it. My version is pale blue and white, and when I charged it for the first time, I left it out on my dresser because it looked so pretty.

It wins points on the snobbery side as well. Iris is non-porous hard plastic, and its insertable shaft is covered by silicone material. No smelly jelly or sticky cyberskin. Smooth, substantial and ergonomic, this is a beautiful piece of machinery. Art meets engineering. Porn meets innovation. Madeline meets Iris. How do you do?

Iris has variable speeds, which I like, since often I like to slow down when I’m about to come, and sometimes the jump from HIGH to LOW leaves me frustrated and confused. There’s an intuitive toggle button in the plastic handle portion of the vibe that adjusts the speed and controls the vibration patterns. It took a little getting used to, but a few minutes into my wank I had it down pat. My favorite pattern for clitoral stimulation is the constant buzz, at varying speeds. Once I inserted it, though, I definitely liked the short bursts vibration pattern, which my sexy assistant Kelly dubbed “Spin Cycle.”

Another feature I love is the dual motors on the Iris. One is up at the tip (makes sense), and the second is right at labia level when the toy is inserted. Finally, I can have labial stimulation without having to use a second or third toy because, frankly, I was running out of hands.

The only issue I had—and it’s a very small issue—is that the little silicone tab on the handle that covers the charging port kept popping up while I was wanking. I’m sure the chance of juices or lube running into the port and frying the inner works is slim; still, I’d prefer if the tab were more secure.

Iris is considered a “high end” toy, being a little on the spendy side. But look: I’ve spent $90.00 on six G-spotters in the past year, none of which lasted longer than two months and all of which required massive quantities of alkaline batteries, putting my annual investment in my G-Spot over $120.00. Put in those terms, if you're wanting reliable orgasms, this vibrator just makes good financial sense.

The Iris made me come, and it did it well. Not too quickly (it could; I’m just not into that), easily and with enough variability that I think I’ll have a lot of fun cracking new combinations with it.

And I’ll never resort to stealing batteries from my kids’ walkie-talkies again.

Power Couple (Sex and Submission)

For when you're feeling blah and you need a little cheering up, I present to you: Sex and Submission.

I love how she's the one collared and tied up, and he can't help being sorta mesmerized by her. And yeah, he's going to flog her, or maybe he just did, but clearly she's wielding her own power and, um, influence.

Also, I sort of have a thing for bald guys. Bald guys who could pick me up with one arm and toss me around if they wanted.

Mark Davis and Annette Schwarz

Her ponytail and high collar remind me of that video for the Tubes' She's a Beauty. Ahem.

But let's say you like the rougher stuff. Get Kink on Demand and download footage from actual Sex and Submission shoots, ball gags, butt hooks, spreader bars and all.

I'm feeling better already.

Want.

Oh, if I had these, I would be such a happy girl.

I was never one to splurge on lingerie. I needed to wrangle the girls and guard against inadvertent exposure of my business should a brisk wind pick up my skirt, but in my twenties, those were the extent of my thoughts on intimates. Bras and panties were necessary evils which were just going to be tossed off in seconds by my boyfriends, I reasoned. I bought nylon stockings and stocked up on satin and lycra and polyester blend bras and panties from department stores or the Victoria's Secret Summer Sale.

But this was the late 80's and I was turned off by silk, big time. Silk blouses with big bows at the neck and puffy sleeves and tightly buttoned wristbands. Worn under jackets as part of a corporate Cagney & Lacey-cum-LA Law ensemble. Worn by my grandmother at Junior League functions. Silk blouses gave me nightmares.

Then, about five years ago, I kind of fell in love with my body again: My tits are still a boingy 34D (Shocking, considering they've fed two babies), and the rest of me is generally a pleasing sight. I was gifted with my first pair of silk stockings. And I loved them.

I started appreciating silk for its understated allure, its rich--not garish--luster, its, well, silkiness. So, I reasoned to myself, If I'm going to be something other than naked, I would prefer to wear something a) pretty and b) soft and which makes me feel c) beautiful.

Something like this:


Ç'est si sexy, non?

I'm not sure how it'll happen, but I am surrendering this post to the universe, in the hopes that this ensemble becomes my own. I get all flustered just looking at it.

I can't think of many things hotter than sliding around atop a naked Kelly wearing this set, and then using the bra ties for, um, other things. Now that would be a good story.

Skin

Sometimes when I'm bored or grumpy (usually both), I like to turn the teevee on and laugh at porn titles. This is well-documented in my Twitter feed. Recent favorites include "Filthy Hitchhikin' Sluts," "Who's That Slut? (5)" and "I'm a Cheerleader, So Bang Me!"

You should try it; it really works to lift the blues away!

Something else you should try is searching for videos on SkinVideo.com. This morning I was feeling very warm and gooey and making out sounded like a lot of fun. So I went to the website, which I really like, because it's so organized and typed "kiss" in the search box.

Whoa.

Aside from the titles of the clips, which are great, SkinVideo's content is (awesomely) downloadable to your computer, iPod or PSP. It's Porno to Go!

Give it a shot: Their prices are damn low, there's tons of content in lots of categories--from Homemade to Unusual Insertions--and best of all, no flashy pop-ups.

Search 2,000,000+ Videos!

Find videos of:

Little Miss Creamypants Wears Cotton for Jesus

You know those t-shirts that are so thin you can see through them?

I have one that’s heather grey. It’s been washed so many times that my freckles show through its fabric. It’s also super-stretchy and it makes my boobs look particularly bouncy when I wear it braless.

Which is how I was on Monday afternoon when Kelly was above me on the bed, rubbing his cock against my white cotton panties and kissing my mouth and neck.

There’s this desperateness when Kelly and I fuck, like we’ve been apart for months and we don’t know when we’ll see each other again. Every time. He is instantly hard, I want to suck his dick for hours and we consistently manage to go from blowjob to sex to other activities involving toys or my ass or c) all of the above—while his cock remains erect. For at least two orgasms. His, not mine. I get more, because I’m drawn that way. He grabs my ass, I grab the back of his neck and it’s always impressive, usually resulting in us congratulating ourselves on an amazing fuck.

I adore fucking Kelly.

And when he was rubbing my clit through my panties with his cock, he looked down at me and pinched a nipple through my t-shirt. Then he licked it and sucked it and bit it and I yelped. He said, “Is this okay?” in this fakey, worried sort of tone that he uses when we’re doing it. So I play along.

“It feels so good…but I’ve never done this before…but we should stop…I made a Purity Pledge,” I barely say, before cracking up and tugging on his balls.

“As long as your panties stay on, baby, you won’t break your pledge,” he said, hips pushing his cock directly over my clit. I swear, it was the hottest thing ever. As soon as he said it, I could smell my scent between us, the tangycreamysaltiness of it and the cotton went wet and immediately cold in the air conditioning.

So of course, I came in my panties. Creamed myself. Soaked to his boner.

Kelly reached down and pulled the elastic aside and slid his dick partway into me.

“It’s okay, your panties are still on,”

“Shut the fuck up,” I said, and grabbed his ass and pulled him completely inside.

After we'd showered and I was getting dressed, I picked up the panties that had been flung at some point across the room, dashing any remaining shreds of virginal purity I might have had. They were still damp. And cold. I held them to my face and inhaled.

I think I never want to wash them.