I just have to take a photo or two.
Actually, there’s two reviews. I need to write the review for the one item I have photos for – ha!
Just gotta dust off some cobwebs in here.
I just have to take a photo or two.
Actually, there’s two reviews. I need to write the review for the one item I have photos for – ha!
Just gotta dust off some cobwebs in here.
I’ve been quiet for a while, but I couldn’t help but pipe up when I got today’s email with SheVibe’s Veterans Day sales. Now, technically, there aren’t one-day only sales, but that’s good if you’re waiting on payday! Most of these ends November 24th, so you’ve got almost two weeks to make your purchases.
Well, no, that’s not exactly right. I am a sexual being. I generally enjoy masturbating, even if my orgasms are more perfunctory than anything else, and even if the most I get out of squirting is bragging rights (it doesn’t accompany orgasm).
But it’s not something I’ve ever been good at planning per se. Because I don’t I want to. Unlike with sex, masturbation is almost always something I do at the spur of the moment, and that’s how I like it. If the mood strikes after watching a particularly sexy movie scene or browsing Tumblr, I’ll pause for somewhere between 1 and 10 orgasms, weak wrists and fatigued arm muscles allowing.
I can’t really entice it to happen, however. Sometimes erotica helps, but it doesn’t always. And I don’t necessarily care that much. It’s like I simply can’t be bothered to stop playing Ingress or watching another episode of The Munsters (because it’s almost Halloween!) or playing some random Facebook game that’s not just a time suck but a boring one at that.
It’s disconcerting to care so little for something that defines me so much, but right now it’s something I can “get away with” because of my lack of sexual partner. And even if you argued I am my own partner in this, it’s not something I’m chasing myself down to do. I’ve no doubt this will change eventually, but it’s a weird place to be in right now.
I don’t know how to make this blog relevant to my life right now. And I haven’t for a while.
I feel so torn about this. For the first time in a a while — a couple years, really — I am more than “fine.” I am really okay. Good, even. And I’m glad.
But right now, that just doesn’t involve sex or love or even masturbation. My life is lacking in all the things that I need for blog fodder.
It’s not as though I will ever lose interest in sex. It’s a very important part of who I am, but it’s not the only thing. I think that’s something I need to come to terms with to finally get over the Bartender.
And human sexuality will forever intrigue me in all its glorious, weird vastness. Everything I read only makes me want to learn more.
I think it’s just time that I soak in what others have to say rather than say anything of my own. This terrifies me — that I may become irrelevant.
I guess I didn’t know what I expected when I kiss her for the first time. Her lips were soft, breath warm on my own mouth. But that wasn’t any different from any of them men I’d kissed before; although, I wouldn’t complain about the lack of stubble. But what was really different was the taste. Her lipstick had just a hint of sweetness mixed with the waxy based. It was what I imagined kissing my own self would be like, and I liked it.
Still, she felt so much more than me. While I had felt like a new woman when I’d walked out of the house in my dress, a bright blue-with-polka-dots pinup number, the flared skirt and petticoat beneath it were like a princess, almost juvenile. In comparison, her curve-hugging dress and bold red lips reminded me of Audrey Hepburn. She was every bit a woman. She owned it.
And I couldn’t have been more aware of it. I was spellbound as she reached to a zipper hidden in the center of her dress, pulling it up to the waistband. The materially suddenly loosened around her hips. Somehow she still looked elegant as fuck.
I felt a twinge of self-consciousness as her svelte leg pushed between mine, her hands pushing aside layers of tulle. It all seemed so silly now. Why had I worn a petticoat, anyway? Her lean frame seemed to dwarf my own, short and with a few extra pounds. I instinctively leaned back as she bent down to kiss me, wedging her thigh firmly between mine.
The grill of the van I found myself leaning on for support dug into my back, and I could feel the metal, cold against the bare of my arms and even through the back of my dress. It wasn’t unwelcome, however. It felt so real. It grounded me.
Nothing about this felt real. I hadn’t had a single drink, yet I couldn’t seem to get my bearings. I had lost complete control. It was all surreal.
It was all amazing. Her lips continued to press against mine, her tongue, as lithe and long as her body, probing my mouth. I did the best I could to respond with as little awkwardness as possible, but I was positive kissing wasn’t my strong suit.
The only part of my body I wasn’t second guessing? My hips. I rocked them forward and back, grinding my vulva against her leg, trying to shift my panties to the side so I could feel her skin, porcelain and softer than her lips, I was sure.
This movement elicited soft moans from my lips, against hers. She laughed. Oh, her laugh! The epitome of femininity. I’d been with many people who were silent and rigid during sex. She managed to be amused, a twinkle in her eye, rigid and soft all at once. I was, for that moment in time, in love like I’d never been before.
In a moment of boldness, I slid my hands up her sides, feeling the satin of her dress beneath my fingertips. My hands reached the swell of her breasts, and I found myself nearly clawing through the dress and the bra she wore beneath it to feel the weight, the softness of her flesh. I slipped one hand beneath her bra, a barely-there lace cup indicating her breasts were as close to perfect as nature allowed, to graze her breasts.
It this was a woman felt like? My god, why hadn’t I been doing this all along?
She chuckled. That laugh again. It was like a drug in my veins. It sent a shiver down my spine, as if my nipples could get any tighter.
“So you’re finally brave enough to taste what’s been thrown at you?” she taunted in response to my wandering hands. I blushed. She removed her thigh from between my legs, and my hips gyrated around nothing until I had time to process. We had intertwined so perfectly. My clit nearly ached at the sudden loss. All I wanted was to ride her leg until I came.
Just as quickly, she pulled my hand from her bra. I worried, for a brief moment, that my heavenly experience was over nearly as quickly as it began. But she pulled me toward the side of the van, opening the passenger and crawling over the seat to the back. I knew I was to follow. I clambered behind her, a sight to see in my many layers, I’m sure.
Once inside, she pushed me back against the driver’s side wall. The front door remained open, providing a shaft of light that allowed us to see, but she paid it no mind. Instead, she reached beneath my skirt and yanked down the petticoat that had been separating us all day. My panties followed, being flung on the floor of some stranger’s van. It didn’t even cross my mind that we might get in trouble for what we were doing.
She traced invisible lines down my thigh with her nails, but these weren’t the fake, manicured tips you see in porn. They were nearly shaped and painted to a shine, but no longer than the tips of her fingers. This was a woman, I surmised, who was frequently wrist-deep in other women.
Perfectly polished and thin, those fingers snaked their way between my legs, parting my folds of skin and penetrating my cunt with and expert touch that every man I’d ever been with had lacked. Her fingers curled around my pubic bone, targeting my G-spot like a missile, while her hand bent at the wrist.
Free of my frilly bonds, I wrapped my legs around her waist and wrapping her hand between my cunt and her thigh, so I could return to my grinding. A matter of minutes had passed since we’d moved into the back of the van, but it felt as though time had slowed.
She caressed and cajoled, curling her fingers back and forth, and pressing them against my G-spot. She seemed to know when I needed more pressure. None of my male partners had picked up on that before, and it took me far longer to realize than I’d like to admit.
I seemed to melt with the heat of her body. I wasn’t sure where the upholstery beneath me began. My dress splayed out around me like I had become liquid.
I was too enthralled with her motions to enjoy her body further, but she wasn’t done with mine. With her free hand, she reached back to untie the bow that secured my halter, and pulled it down in front. I assisted by pushing the cups of my strapless bra down so my breasts spilled out above them. She tweaked and pinched my nipple, maneuvering her body so she could lean down.
Her tongue danced across my skin, sending a jolt like lightning through my body. The hand buried inside my worked diligently, and I felt the pressure building. Orgasm was imminent, even though her tactics were so different from my own.
I ground my clit against her hand, having found the heel of her palm, while she tugged at my nipple with her teeth. The combination of pain and pleasure sent me over the edge, my muscles contracting around her fingers and breath coming in short, rapid bursts. She knew, too, to withdraw from my over-sensitive clit as my orgasm subsided. She was a professional.
I assumed she was done, but I was wrong. With a surprising show of force, she grasped my thighs and pulled me down the seat so I was laying flat. With grace I couldn’t have mustered had I had all the space in the world, she lifted the bottom of her dress to her hips and shimmied from her underwear – a lacy thong that most certainly would match the bra.
The seat shifted beneath me as she joined me on it, positioning her knees to either side of my head. There was barely light to see to begin with, but my world was engulfed in black as she lowered her cunt to my lips.
My other senses immediately took over. Her musky sent, similar but not identical to mine, filled my nostrils. I could feel the heat from between her legs against my face, and a short tuft of hair tickled my nose.
I had never performed cunnilingus before; although, I had thought about it on many occasions. My first react was to taste every bit of her. I traced my tong from her perineum along the length of one of her lips to the vertex, and back down again. I lapped the flat of my tongue over her vulva, passing the entrance to her vagina and barely grazing her clit, as hard as mine had been just moments ago.
Then, I curled my tongue to a point, swirling it around her clit, causing her to produce a delicious gasp. It was the first time she sounded not entirely in control. I quickly darted my tongue as far into her cunt as I could reach – not far due to its limited length – and traced the opening.
I savored the smell. The smoothness and folds of flesh. The slickness. The hard nub of her clit. The softness of her pubic hair. I wanted to experience her so fully that I would use her up. So I wrapped my arms around her thighs and buried my face as deeply into her as I could.
My mouth kissed and suckled at any part of her flesh it could reach, my tongue running up and down and side to side over her clit. There wasn’t a single area between her legs left untouched by my saliva. And went I felt sated enough to focus on her needs, I listened acutely for gasps and moans, repeating the motions that had her grinding against my own face and moving closer to a loss of control.
The way it felt as her thighs and cunt began to tense mirrored my own pre-orgasm, but it was never something I’d had the chance to experience before. It felt rewarding to my very core to experience such feedback. I pressed on, licking and lapping. My own moans were muffled by the body straddling my face.
I stretched my tongue as far as it would go, straining to penetrate her deeper, to lick her further, to have her in my mouth in a way that I knew to be impossible, but it felt imminent if I would simply refuse to surrender.
My jaw hurt as her thighs squeezed inward, and my scalp tingled as she tugged a handful of hair sharply. She was going to cum. I was making her cum.
And there it was. Beautiful. Majestic. Uninhibited. Her muscles spasming the way mine always did when I was at the point of no return. Her cries of pleasure absorbed by the plush lining of the van’s walls. The passenger door still stood open. I thought I heard mumbled voices passing by. It didn’t matter.
All that matter was this beautiful woman, a picture of grace, was sitting on my face. And I had just given her an orgasm. I breathed heavily and let the back of my head drop to the seat beneath me. I hadn’t even realized I had lifting myself so far up. My arms felt sore with the intensity that I had held her thighs.
My mind, assured that the end of our rendez-vous was soon over, began processing what had happened rather than what was happening. This beautiful woman, who just so happened to be attending the same pinup fundraiser that I had so boldly decided to dress up for, had approached me. My stomach had tightened anxiously the way it does when I meet strangers. And she was so perfect.
I hadn’t realized then that he entire story was a facade. She’d not forgotten her lipstick in her car. She didn’t need company to the parking lot to retrieve it. She had simply wanted to get me alone, so she could push me up against some stranger’s van and be the first woman who had ever kissed me with an open mouth.
Just like I hadn’t seen that coming, I wasn’t anticipating her to bark a command.
“On your hands and knees!” Her voice and tone were clear as she removed her body from above mine, kneeling half on the floor on the seat behind me. I sat up, awkwardly getting on hands and knees, facing the open door, light cascading against my skin.
The top of my dress hung below me, breasts bouncing free of my bra. From behind me, she pushed the bottom up around my back, willing the fabric into place. Her hands pushed my knees as far apart as they could go on the narrow seat. It seems she was about to return the favor.
I felt her fingers part my nether lips with skill, her tongue lapped at my clit. I wasn’t normally a fan of receiving oral from this angle, but I wasn’t about to complain. She nipped at my lips with her teeth. I suddenly felt relived to have shaved them clean. But her lips and tongue soon returned to my clit. I was almost giddy with anticipation.
It took me by surprise when she began playing with my ass. The pad of her finger traced my puckered asshole, pressed against it. Immediately, I felt enveloped in sensation, as if it were coming from every angle. I groaned. Oh! How had she known?
Anal play had always done it for me. Just a little felt so good. I’d had an ex lover who always pressed just the tip of his thumb into my asshole as I rode him. It drove me wild, fucking him faster and harder until we both came.
I wasn’t far from that point, already with an orgasm under my belt. I leaned back as much as I could, her finger slipping further inside me. I craved to make contact and to grind myself against her pretty face, but she wouldn’t let me.
She stayed just far enough away to drive me crazy. My moans had never been delicate, but they turned low and guttural. I was going to cum again.
“Ho-ly shit.” A man’s voice broke through my thoughts. I froze and looked up. My body was tense, my mouth frozen open as a moan silently escaped my lips. A stranger imitating James Dean watched us through the open door. His slicked-back hair was falling forward across his forehead, and his attire seemed cheap and modern in contrast to the classic hunk. I suddenly remembered where we were, who I was and that we weren’t supposed to be doing what we were doing.
My pussy didn’t seem to get the message, though. It betrayed me as it shuddered against her mouth. Breath hissed from my mouth and I retained enough control not to make a sound, but my arms collapsed beneath me and I felt onto the velvety-seat below me as the last waves of my orgasm rippled through my body.
If she was surprised by the man who was watching us, she made no move or comment to indicate as such. Instead, she reached for her shoes and bag to return them to their rightful place on her body. She opened the sliding door in the back of the van to exit so she wouldn’t have to walk pasted the man who had become our audience.
She stepped out of the van, one long leg bending at the knee to reach the ground. After both feet rested on the ground, she reached to effortlessly zip her dress once more. I watched the fabric hug the curves of her swaying hips as she walked back toward the party, nary a hair out of place. There was no sign of what we had just done. I was yet again scrambling after this picture of perfection.
Pipedream has made a concerted effort to get their foot in the doorway to electro sex products. There are electro panties, cuffs, anal plugs, paddles and cock rings. More intense me BDSM gear includes an interesting electro pinwheel, which I think is a great use of electricity, and even sounds, which is not something I am personally interested in. The holy grail of all electrosex products is, perhaps, the neon wand, and Pipedream offers those, too.
The company sent me one to try out, and I could not have been more excited. If there’s one thing I’ve been wanting to try for
months years, it’s a neon wand. Kinklab is one of the companies especially known for selling neon wands, which allow you to play with electricity in a safe manner. Pipedream really wants to attract kinksters with these new offerings.
The neon wand gets its name from the neon light you can see, especially when using the wand in the dark. It’s certainly more aesthetically appealing than the Shock Fantasy Wand. However, you can hop over to my affiliate store and get that for less than half of the neon wand if you’re not so sure about this electricity thing.
But let me assure you, dear readers, that the neon wand is exciting but gentle in its own way. It’s incredibly easy to use and, really, not intimidating in the least. Unlike the sort of toys that plug into an electricity control pack, which is often battery powered. Instead, this plugs directly into your wall, so you might wan an extension cord nearby if your play space doesn’t have outlet access. The cord is about 6 feet long, so you do have some length to work with.
The rest of this 5-piece set is the four glass attachments. Each is a hollow glass tube with a metal ring at the end. You simply push it into the end of the wand to connect. It pulls directly back out, much like attachments for the Eroscillator. It’s easy to grasp because of the velvety plastic. The attachments are shaped like a comb, a spoon, a satellite and a thin curve with a bulb at the end.
All of this is contained in a thick cardboard box with a glossy exterior. Each piece sits within a foam insert, and while it’s finicky to get them back in — a couple of the attachments don’t seem like they ever fit — everything is so secure that I’ll keep using it. The box also closes with a magnet
I haven’t had a chance to try the electricity conducive gel, but Pipedream offers some of that, and you can find it from other brands, too. This might increase the sensations of the Fetish Fantasy Neon Wand. Pipedream also describes how the gel can eliminate “hot spots,” which I haven’t experienced with the neon wand. But if you’re using another toy that has more consistent contact with your skin, the gel might be a good idea to keep things consistent and comfortable.
So, there’s not much of a learning curve — but not in terms of adjusting it. The knob on the base offers audible and haptic feedback when turned, and the neon wand immediately buzzes to life. You’ll see the purple hue and hear it buzzing. It’s not like a vibrator, and I wouldn’t worry about being discovered. Both the sound and intensity of the light increase as you turn up the knob.
How does it feel? Well, first you have to know that you don’t want to touch the glass to your skin. You want to leave just a bit of space so the electricity can arc to your skin. Yes, this is scarier than it sounds. It does feel akin to a static shock but in a more controlled manner. Depending upon the attachment you use, there will be more points of contact.
— Adriana (@adriana_r) September 24, 2015
The comb offers the most with each of the “teeth” allowing an arc to jump from glass to skin. In practice, I rarely get more than two simultaneous arcs because I am, you know, a 3D human being, and nothing on my body is exactly flat. But I did catch three at a time in my video. Position the comb over flat planes for the greatest effect. Or use a different electrode to concentrate energy on smaller areas such as your nipples.
While the neon wand is relatively safe, there are a few caveats. Don’t use it internally. There are videos of people using similar wands on their tongues, so I think you could give that a try. You can feel electricity sneaking through the seam of the casing in the wand itself where the two parts attach — just below the Shock Therapy logo. That seems like a quality control issue, but I think a little electrical tape would fix mine up.
You will want to remove anything metal. I have a few piercings in my ears but keep them in as I don’t use the neon wand anywhere near there. Where do I like to use it? My nipples seem to react well, and I think I would personally like the comb along my upper shoulders/back, but it would be better with a partner. The neon wand really does nothing for me clitorally, which leads me my final thoughts.
This is an interesting toy that arouses in the excitement way. With a lack of other sexual stimulation, the Neon Wand itself isn’t going to get me horny or off. But as part of partner activities, especially when a blindfold is involved. There isn’t a lot of difference in sensation between the small electrodes like there is with the comb attachment. Though, your milage will surely vary.
You’re not gonig to find the Neon Wand at less than $100. In fact, few retailers seem to be carrying it at all. You can get it at my affiliate store for just under $120 if you use the coupon code NeonWand20Off.
I am not a thin person. I’ve never been, really. In the past, I’ve been thinner. I’ve also been bigger. Over the last year or so, I’ve shed some weight from my midsection and generally feel more proportionate. And, honestly, I care about that more than some number on a scale or chart. But I’m borderline plus size and short, so it shows.
I’ve struggled with this for all my life, but I’m probably more secure about the whole thing than I have been. The last couple years have been especially good for me in terms of fashion. I can afford to experiment, and this has led to comfort and styles I would never have tried in the past. It’s a good thing, because I feel better about dressing my body.
But no matter how the clothes look, I suppose, there’s always an element of trying to hide or distract from the extra weight where I won’t want/need it, even if it feels good and it’s not a health issue. When it comes down to it, I suppose I’m just worried that all the good things I may be — smart, funny, cute/pretty, witty, compassionate, sex-positive and more — will be completely negated by not being thin. Or, at the very least, that people will judge me solely by my appearance at first glance, and will write off any of the positives I could bring to the table.
This is especially true with guys, and perhaps even more painfully awkward because the tall gangly body shape is, you know, my type. In comparison to tall, narrow things, I look even shorter and wider. And while I don’t necessarily care what others thing, I’ve become so terrified of the idea of being rejected by these people to whom I am normally attracted because I may not be attractive enough to them.
So much so that I have pretty much stopped even communicating with potential dates because of it. On Tinder, I’ll swipe away from someone who I determine to be out of my league, even if I’m really attractive and we might have something in common. I will avoid talking to and, especially, meeting people who I think fall into that category.
I know I’m giving in to fear and I’m probably not giving myself enough credit. I also know, intellectually, that the whole idea of “league” is BS, and beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Even if there was some universal scale, people would still have different tastes. But that doesn’t make me feel better or, perhaps, bolder is the word I’m looking for. Even knowing that people of my type have been attracted to me before doesn’t really help.
And I’m terribly afraid of meeting people in ways that I wasn’t a few years ago.. despite the fact that most of the people who I dated in 2012 were romantically interested, at least enough to pursue a second date (I was not, however.). I’m afraid of showing up and not being thin enough from the waist down. Or of being too much.
Honestly, this isn’t even rooted in being mistreated as a fat adult. Because I can’t remember the last time someone, anyone, has insulted me over my weight (or anything, really). Maybe my discomfort is more noticeable than anything else. My insecurity and anxiety certainly causes me to be more uptight with new people than I really am or want to be.
Though, I’m sure some of this is just because I haven’t gone on a date like that in a few years. I’m out of practice, and it feels like a big deal to jump back in. But maybe that’s all I need to do. Do. Act. Less thinking. Which has always been a problem of mine.
Like always, I feel a little haunted by my own mind.
My posts may have been slow, but I’m two days early with this one. So go me.. or something!
Babeland is offering 20% off and free shipping, which means you get a lot of bang for your buck. You can get a Minna Limon for $95 (review), the Boss vibe for $55 (review) or the Mona 2 for $111 (read my review). I enjoy all of these toys, and you won’t find cheaper prices!
There are also a couple new items that I’ve yet had a chance to try, and maybe the same is true for you!
Use code 20VIPS9 for the savings until September 7th!
Add some lingerie to your collection or replace your entire sexy wardrobe without breaking the bank. Stop over to Frederick’s of Hollywood to take An Additional 40% Off Clearance using code LaborDay40! This sale ends tonight! You can also save 20% on with code FRED20OFF. Ends 9.8
Adam & Eve coupons are always a little tricky because of exclusions, but you might be happy to know you can Save $20 Off $40 at Adam & Eve this Labor Day with Code LABORDAY (Ends 9/8). This doesn’t cover most of the high-value items (Lelo, Fun Factory, Minna, et cetera). However, you can get also get $20 off any order of $40 or more with free shipping without any code.
Lovehoney has some great sales right now, especially on lingerie!
No code is needed for any of these sales! You can also get 20% off when you spend $20 or more, including these already sale-priced pieces! That means you can get 5 panties for under $20 excluding shipping!
This is also a great deal for anything you might want that’s under $100. Layaspot is just over $42. Try the Luna Beads Noir for just $31.19. The Fun Factory Stronic Eins might be the cheapest at $155, too! Or check out the gorgeous Vixen Mustang in Royale Purple for just $112. Check out my review for the large Lockable Sex Toy Case. If you want it, it’s only $34 on Lovehoney. Save $12 on the Bettie Page Spanking Paddle, too (review in this post).
I’ll be keeping my eye open for other sales that are particularly good and adding them to this post! Let me know what you pick up in the comments!