Tag Archives: masturbation

On the Doxy massager: best wand toy ever


About ten years ago, my boyfriend bought me my first ever sex toy. We spent ages in the shop choosing, then eventually came home with a rabbit-type thing that the sales assistant recommended because ‘you’ll regret it if you go for the smaller one.’ That afternoon the boy hand-fucked me with a growing sense of awestruck wonder as I went from ‘oh that’s odd’ to ‘mmm fucking hell’ through to ‘DON’T STOP DON’T STOP OR I SWEAR I WILL EAT MY OWN TONGUE.’

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Punishment fucking: fuck me like I’m in trouble

The best thing about getting fucked like you’re in trouble is that to get out of trouble, you have to do exactly what you’re told. Here’s a story about punishment fucking, written when I was incredibly horny for exactly this kind of fuck…

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On the three magic sex words

There are three words that, when combined, make me shiver with delight. I’m not talking about ‘I love you’ – they have their place but aren’t likely to get me hot and wet and trembling. These three magic sex words are like an aural orgasm – they pinpoint a perfect moment that makes me want to stop time and milk that one second until I’m satisfied I’ve made the most of it.

It’s explained better by example.

Lubed up masturbation

“Do you want to try this?” I held out a bottle of lube – “tingling”, it said, although I suspect what won him over was that it also said “new”. He held out his hand, squeezed a bit into his fingers, and rubbed it on the head of his cock.

I’m a sucker for guys rubbing their cocks.

Prompted, perhaps, by recent thoughts on guys and sex toys, and remembering how meltingly filthy it is when I get to pull him swiftly to the edge of orgasm using a dick-sheath, I lay him down on the bed and got out two possibilities. One black, solid, and narrow – squeezing it onto his dick is tricky but the effort is worthwhile. The second one is clear, jellylike, and much softer.

I went for the latter – I like the feel of it in my hands. Because it’s so soft, as I squeeze and rub him I can feel the rock-hardness of him pushing against the sheath. I can run it up and down, twisting and clamping it round his dick, feeling the head pushing against the end and through my fingers.

I love the rhythm of hand jobs. The up down up down, the friction. I love the smooth-sticky feeling of lube on my fingers, and yes – I love the control. I like knowing that every kick of arousal, every grunt and moan, every tingle and twitch, is down to me.

He put his hands behind his head and looked me directly in the eye. His eyebrows furrowed into a frown as I rubbed faster, squeezed harder. I revelled in the increasing frequency of the slick-slick-slick noises as I rubbed his dick. And then the three magic words:

“I’m gonna come.”

Ungh. Those words have such a beautiful, simple sexiness that they make me instantly taut – aroused and eager for the inevitable end. I did what anyone would do, and immediately slowed the pace, trying to keep him hanging there for a moment while I took in his frown and his rapid breathing, and the double-twitch of his cock just before he came.

It turns out restraint is neither my, nor his, forté. He arched his neck, leaning up towards me as he shot spunk into the cup of the jelly sheath. It’s clear, so I can see him filling it as he moans, and as his frown deepens. That’s what I’ve been waiting for – that’s what the joy of the control, the feeling of sticky-wet lube, the anticipation as I came home with the bottles – all leads up to.

I’m gonna come.

His pleasure. My achievement. The perfect combination of hot.

Honourable mention to the lovely PR person who gave me the lube (Durex Embrace) that kicked off this story. She challenged me to see if using it could bring on an orgasm in less than 3 minutes. For the record, I reckon the 3 magic words came about 2 and a half minutes in, so kudos for that. I don’t do product reviews and this is the first time I’ve accepted a freebie, but I was sort of intrigued by this lube (it’s actually two different lubes sold together that produce an intriguing sensation when combined), so it was the kick-off for this particular escapade. I hope you’ll not think me an awful sellout, and will agree that the story above is way better than simply giving something marks out of ten.

Sleepy fucking: a change of plan

“Nah, I’m knackered.”

I was too tired even for sleepy fucking. The kind of tired where I could barely open my eyes. Tired where I’d have been willing to pay a week’s wages just to get a day’s reprieve from work. Tired like I really didn’t want to fuck.

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Male sex toys are awesome, and Jezebel can fuck off

“Ever seen a blog post about a weird sex toy designed to simulate the feeling of a vagina and thought, what kind of a lonely fuck would use one of those?”

No, I haven’t. And yet the author of this Jezebel post clearly has. If you ask me that says acres more about the author than about the many hundreds of thousands of people who enjoy using male sex toys.

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