Mar 092014

FlirtIt’s too bad that I don’t have a fetish for dirty linens because that’s what we faced when we arrived at our rental cabin – nothing had been cleaned. Dirty towels sat piled at the foot of the bed, which was rumpled and obviously not fresh. The thermostat said it was 50 degrees. It was late at night and Harold and I had driven for miles to get there. Not to be discouraged, we tossed everything into the wash, turned on the heat, and snuggled up on the couch.

I had gloried in fantasies of what we would do when we arrived, what manner of depravity I would inflict on Harold. I had lovingly packed our toy bag with needle-play paraphernalia and an assortment of rope. Harold’s breath caught in his throat when I told him of my plans to take him – I would tie him up, blindfold him, put in earbuds with a special playlist, overload his senses, bring him to the edge of orgasm over and over, put needles in sensitive places, come on his face while he was helpless…

But it wasn’t to be. At least not that night. It’s funny how things work. I have such an active fantasy life. Being able to imagine pleasure is awesome, as long as I don’t get too hung up on things happening exactly as envisioned. I’ve learned to trust my instincts. Going with the flow of erotic energy is always very rewarding.

When we woke up the next morning, the attraction between us was practically magnetic. We don’t wake up in bed together very often so it felt kind of amazing, maybe like waking up next to your favorite movie star crush. We smiled and gazed at one another in adoration. The room was still cool, but we explored each other’s bodies under the safety of three comforters. He tied me to the bed.

By the windowI’m not sure how we manage to know each other so well and still surprise each other with the things we do in bed. Harold can bring me to orgasm in minutes. He knows exactly how much pressure to apply and where. He knows when to tweak a nipple hard or how to make me beg for the vibrator. This time, I asked him to talk dirty to me (not a usual request) and he knew exactly what I wanted to hear, how to make me come hard around his fingers with his words and conjured images. I am lucky to have this experienced lover who is happy to excite me with new experiences.

Of course, it goes both ways. I meant to draw out the erotic sensations of sexual bonding as much as possible, but sometimes fucking just feels too good. I was just going to tease a little with penetration. We moved between positions and I stayed in control, not letting either of us climax, until he got behind me. I love being fucked doggy-style. This time I even had the vibrator on my clitoris. I knew I was fast approaching orgasm and I was beyond caring. Harold told me he was about to come, but by the time I was able to process that information, I was spasming around his cock and then he lost control.

It’s difficult to feel disappointed in an orgasm like that. I am always amazed at how powerful it is to peak together. I expressed some regret over not being able to torment him more and he said, “You could milk me into my mouth.” Uhhh…what? He explained that I could massage what was left of his ejaculate out of his prostate and into his open mouth. Like he would rest on his shoulders with his knees near his ears. And catch his own jism.


I love my life. We waited a bit. We ate breakfast. I painted his nails purple. We took a shower together. Always, we talk and talk. He gave himself an enema. I tied off his balls and we played around with some ball torment.

ReflectionWhen it felt right, I told him to get his ass in the air. It took a bit of positioning, with a pillow behind his shoulders, but Harold is flexible enough to position his cock over his face. (Have I mentioned how hot that is?) That left his asshole vulnerable to my lubed finger.

I enjoy prostate stimulation very much. Harold obviously gets pleasure out of what I do – just a firm stroke with a slightly curled finger. I have milked the semen out of him before. It makes me feel powerful to take his seed without granting an orgasm, but one of my favorite things is bring him to orgasm while doing prostate massage. What we did yesterday was like the best kind of sexual circus acts.

As I stroked Harold’s prostate, big fat drops of semen fell and he caught them in his mouth! Best trick ever. I wondered if he would be grossed out or humiliated, but he wasn’t. He sometimes longs for a boyfriend to go down on. If it were possible for me to love him more, I would!

Milking into his mouthWe managed to fill the weekend with more sex and good times. I may have come enough in the past couple of days to make up for how sparse things have been in the past few weeks, but as much as my pleasure is a priority for me, Harold’s trick of coming into his own mouth totally wins as my favorite moment of the weekend. Things may not have turned out the way I hoped they would – I think the mischief we came up with was better!

Jan 182014
Pleasure is a journey

Image by David Steinberg

The taste of his semen is still in my mouth. He is lying on his back with his eyes closed, a smug blissful smile on his face. I feel very close to him, but I am also enjoying the fact that I sent him into an ecstatic stupor. In these post-orgasm moments we are still wallowing in the pleasure we shared – first he focused on me and then I gave to him. He came this time, but often he does not.

To paraphrase Emerson, pleasure is a journey, not a destination. Neither of us really cares if we orgasm or not. I mean, we are trying to connect to each other and feel good, so an orgasm is often the natural result of that, but coming is not the goal. We are always there for the exploration of pleasure and the expression of love. I live for the experience of using pleasure to open him up like a can opener, hug his inner demons, and ride him like a rocket to the moon. It’s a journey.

Pleasure is a journey

Image by David Steinberg

Like any journey, we tend to follow some basic steps. We might plan, have a dialog about desires and expectations or make special requests. We prepare, whether that means getting out specific sex toys or going to the bathroom. Sometimes this means unpacking emotional baggage that has collected between us so we can be totally clean and present with each other. Once we embark, we follow our instincts. One of us might drive, taking charge and providing sensual delights for the other. The person being receptive can always make requests or suggestions. We can even decide to pleasure each other at the same time, letting all of the input overwhelm our senses.

When we follow the energy between us, we tend to know when to stop, change activities, or push harder. I like to draw things out as long as I can, bringing him right up to the edge of orgasm and keeping him there. Or approaching the apex, then letting the energy fade, only to build it back up again. He does this to me as well. Pleasure is a journey. How much fun can we have when we are naked together?

Pleasure is a journey

Image by David Steinberg

We do eventually get to a destination. That destination is not always an orgasm. It often is, but sometimes I get too overstimulated to come right then. I truly do not care because it feels so amazing. I want it to go on forever. It kind of does, because we make love all of the time in everything that we do. When pleasure is a journey, the definition of sex gets pretty loose. We are making love when we cook dinner together, when we snuggle together in front of a movie, when we have passionate discussions, or even when we grocery shop together. It’s there in every kiss and brush of skin on skin. But while we carry this love with us always, each journey tends to have some sort of climax.

After the energy peaks, we coast on a hormone high. In a destination driven system, this would be the “refractory period,” the phase during which a male is physiologically unable to orgasm again. The implication is that sex stops because the guy isn’t able to jizz, but pleasure is infinite. Skin is extremely sensitive in this state. It’s possible to for us to draw out the sensations for quite a while. Or ground out the energy if that feels right and be totally into each other – lay entwined, match relaxed breathing, laugh together, look in each other’s eyes, feed each other tasty food. I like it when he puts steady pressure on my chest with the palm of his hand. We bask in the glow of our interconnectedness.

Pleasure is a journey

Image by David Steinberg

That’s where I am now – happily remembering the sensation of his cock in my mouth, the taste of pre-cum on my tongue as I flick across the tip, his stomach muscles tense as I suck harder, his breath fast and harsh, his fingers in my hair… Then the feel of his heartbeat against my cheek, relaxing my body into his, fingertips tracing the curve of my shoulder, his very satisfied smile until I kissed his lips into softness… Working on projects separately, but finding reasons every so often to kiss the back of his neck, or look into his eyes, or scratch his back…

We’ve both known lovers for whom the orgasm was the goal. I understand it, I like to come. For many years, I had partners where my pleasure wasn’t a priority, so fighting for the ability to orgasm in the relationship made sense, but that dynamic just makes me feel like I’m always being shorted. I’m not interested in zero-sum sex.

Pleasure is a journey

Image by David Steinberg

The process of giving and receiving is incredibly powerful. It’s been difficult for me to learn how to trust him enough to let him do what he wants to my body, but now I just melt. He does such amazing things to me. His openness with me has been tremendously empowering for me as a person. I have a confidence that I learned with his balls in my hand. With a partner for whom pleasure is a journey, everything is about abundance. I find that the warmth of the journey carries me a long way. Not only do I feel fantastic about myself and my partner, I spill over with love in all of my relationships and have more to give to my whole family.

Oct 062013

Adv Couple's Guide to Sex Toys 2eBook: “The Adventurous Couple’s Guide to Sex Toys”
Written by: Violet Blue
Foreword by: Dr. Charlie Glickman
Published by: Cleis Press

We dare you to read this book.

Are you scared to ask your partner to try the kinky things you fantasize about? Or maybe you are at the other end of the spectrum – you think that together you’ve tried all of the sex toys? Then we double dare you to read Violet Blue’s new book, “The Adventurous Couple’s Guide to Sex Toys.” Whether you’ve never even broached the subject of sex toys or you’re getting bored in the bedroom, we think you can use this guide to find some inspiration.

We’re pretty adventurous. Collectively, we have over 60 years of experience making, buying, and using sex toys. While we try to be as safe as possible, there have been some misadventures, so the first thing that we noticed about ”The Adventurous Couple’s Guide to Sex Toys” was Blue’s well informed safety tips. Important information is covered clearly and often highlighted in a boxout, making it easy to access. We wish that there had been a book like this when we were first looking at sex toys!

Countless people have told us stories of shame that made it impossible to ask their partner for what they really want. It drives us crazy because we believe that everyone deserves to have a fulfilling sex life. Well! We now have a resource to recommend to those people. ”The Adventurous Couple’s Guide to Sex Toys” doesn’t have all of the answers, but it focuses on good communication and offers some concrete suggestions for starting the sex toy conversation or surprising your lover with a toy (hint: surprise is not always a good idea). Blue’s personality shines through her writing, putting you at ease like you were having coffee with your sex smart best friend. There is no shame here, only fascinating data meant to empower you.

Our biggest criticism of the book is that it’s fairly heteronormative. While Blue has been very inclusive of all people, the book largely addresses straight couples. The chapter on strap-on sex has some great information about introducing men to anal play, but nothing about women playing together. Most of the material is presented in an unbiased fashion, but we found the overall assumption tended toward heterosexual couples. A minor thing of note: we found some of the language a bit forced or awkward from time to time, but it doesn’t interfere too much.

We loved pretty much everything else: the brightly colored cover, the highly accurate illustrations by Zanne DeJanvier, the foreword written by Charlie Glickman, PhD, and a whole chapter on resources for acquiring good sex toys. We appreciate Blue’s candor in naming names when talking about products she believes in. ”The Adventurous Couple’s Guide” bravely covers the gamut of sex toys: vibrators, butt plugs and other anal toys, dildos, strap-on harnesses, bondage, and nipple clamps. We were most excited to read about teledildonics (including webcam), sex machines, and sex furniture.

We found a lot of stuff in ”The Adventurous Couple’s Guide to Sex Toys” that we have tried. What surprised us was how much new information there was. Well, maybe not new, but things we haven’t ever talked to each other about. We read the book separately, but when we compared notes we discovered that we shared a whole new realm of fantasy we have not yet explored. Just reading this book was a huge turn on – thinking about everything we’ve done and things we’d still love to do inspired some heavy sexting and at least one masturbation session. Without this book, we might never have shared with each other a mutual and intense interest in trying out a Monkey Rocker!

So, we dare you. We dare you to share this book with your lover.

~Evoë  & Harold

Jun 162013

Dark moist heat cradles me. Sweat trickles down my flesh like a lover’s caress. Rivulets slide between my breasts and down the backs of my knees. I feel safe and sexy, breathing in the scent of cedar, feeling my muscles release tension. I start to fantasize – parting my legs for his tongue to lick sweat from my creases, our slick hot bodies coming together on the wooden slats, slowly pouring cool water over ourselves as we recover from our passions…




 Who else is feeling hot? Click below!

Sinful Sunday

May 112013

To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance.” -Oscar Wilde

Self loveWith Mother’s Day coming up, my family has been asking what they can do to celebrate me. Honestly, I feel honored, loved, and cared for pretty much every day. I know that I hold a special place in my family. I’m not one to turn down breakfast in bed or some hand drawn cards, but what I really need is some quality time by myself.

My children are my top priority. After that, I take time each week to have a date with each of my partners. Everyone works together to take care of the house and I have my own work. I do have some time for myself built into the system, but it often gets filled up with doctor’s appointments, shopping, cleaning, or meetings. Sadly, when I get time to myself in the evening, I usually fall asleep.

I do masturbate regularly. It means a lot to me to be able to give pleasure to myself at any time. I’ve realized though, that I am not giving myself the kind of attention that I would give to a partner. Quick and easy orgasms in the shower or at bedtime have immense value, but what if I were to actually make love to myself with deliberate intention?

So, for all of the moms out there – actually, EVERYONE – I offer a suggestion: schedule a date with yourself. Nourishing your own sacred sexuality is a gift that stays with you forever and not only benefits you, but everyone you love.

Here are some tips to get you started:

  1. Find time and space to be alone. It’s important to give yourself several hours. If you can’t manage to be alone at home, or if being at home is too distracting, consider other creative solutions – renting a hot tub room, finding a totally private spot in nature, getting a hotel room for the night, or borrowing a friend’s home. Make sure that your children are in capable hands and that someone else will be responsible for anything that comes up.
  2. Set the stage. Creating a special mood can enhance your experience. Putting clean sheets on the bed or lighting some candles sets this experience aside as something special. Play music that feels sexy to you. Get anything you might need (like drinking water, vibrator, or massage oil) readily available. Go naked, or wear something that feels sexy.
  3. Relax. If you are anything like me, this might take a while. Turn off your phone. Step away from the computer. Do something that will help you let go of the daily stresses, whether that’s taking a walk, having a glass of wine, or sinking into a bubble bath. Focus on deep, even breaths, releasing tension with each exhale. Think about the things that make you happy.
  4. Fantasize. Start letting out those private thoughts that get you turned on. Is there a movie star who makes you swoon? Some sex act too kinky to admit to your partner, but it gets your juices going? Bring it out! For this date with yourself, anything is possible.
  5. Experience sensation. Wake up your skin. Start at your toes and work your way up, barely brushing over your erogenous zones. I like to keep my underwear on for this stage because the indirect stimulation to my genitals drives me wild. Use fingernails, feathers, massage oil, a wartenberg wheel, or whatever feel good and exciting to you. Pay attention to your whole body.
  6. Build the energy. Slowly pay more attention to the areas that increase your arousal, like nipples, pubic area, and asshole – circling away and returning over and over. Listen to your body and your emotions. You want to prolong your pleasure as long as you can stand it.
  7. Go for orgasm. This is a perfect time to introduce lube, a vibrator, a dildo, or whatever gets you off. You still want to draw out your pleasure, but now you can give yourself permission to focus on those areas that will lead to orgasm. Hold love for yourself in your heart and let it infuse your whole being. If you can stand the tension, bring yourself right to the edge of orgasm and back away again. When everything feels right, let the orgasm spill over.
  8. Release. Just let go. You can send any residual stress out of your body on each wave of pleasure. If it feels good, try to prolong your orgasm or pause for a moment and start over at building to a new release.
  9. Take care of yourself. You can give yourself aftercare. Give yourself plenty of time to bask in the good feelings. Let love for yourself seep into your skin. This is when I feel closest to the divine. You could go back to gentle sensations or drift into a few minutes of lucid dreaming. Drink water or eat a snack if you need to feel more grounded. Or jump up and run around naked. Whatever it is that makes you feel in love with yourself, do it now.

I don’t always orgasm when I make love to myself and that’s okay. When I’m by myself, I don’t have the stress of a partner who really wants to make me come. My only objectives are to love myself and experience pleasure. It’s a perfect time to explore the things that turn me on and develop a stronger understanding of my body.

As a mom, it’s sometimes hard to feel like I own myself, my time, my body. I don’t often get a chance to make love to myself, but when I do, I feel better all over. I challenge you all, but especially the moms on this Mother’s Day, to give yourself this gift!

May 062013

On the verandaI like sex in all seasons, but I am especially gleeful when it is time to fuck outdoors again. This past week has seen a wide range of activity and temperature.

A week ago I woke up to it snowing. I spent a quiet morning in bed with my coffee, watching the flakes drift down and stick to the tree bows. That afternoon I made love with Harold in the cabin, by the blazing fire. I took him hard, pushing his limits, making him mine. I cuffed his wrists over his head and did terrible things to his balls. Bondage combined with cock-and-ball tease might be my favorite thing ever. I enjoy taking control and overwhelming him with sensation.

Only two days after it snowed, we fucked outside for the first time of the season. It was suddenly 75 degrees. I was reading on my little veranda and Harold came to talk to me. It was one of those situations where all of a sudden I was just turned on. The sun and fresh air swept us up and we had to be as close as possible.

At first Harold got me off and I thought that was going to be it. Sometimes we focus on one or the other of us – simply following what feels right. But this time I really wanted to fuck. I needed the primal connection between us. Harold took a little persuading, but I can be persuasive. I’m good with my mouth and my hands.

When he entered me, everything in the universe felt right. His cock hit just the perfect spot inside me, the sun was shining, the green leaves waved above me, and I could drink in his golden love like honey. Whatever else we have going on in our lives, we have moments like this.

And it got better! A couple of nights ago I had a beautiful group sex experience. It was incredible to be surrounded by people I trust who are all focused on my pleasure. I stopped taking care of everyone else and opened myself to being receptive. Six pairs of hands caressed me all over; lips brushed my flesh. When I asked for it, 60 fingers lightly scratched me from head to toe. I floated in pure bliss for what felt like forever.

Cunt like a flowerIt was a gorgeous night. We lay on cushions and blankets before the bonfire, looking up through leafy branches at the brilliant stars in the clear night sky. I was both sweaty and cold, naked under the blankets, limbs tangled on either side, full of love and lust. I felt Harold’s breath against my neck as I listened to people making love on either side. I watched Joel’s face as he gave himself to a woman I admire, respect, and care about very much. I am thankful for that moment of observation, when I realized that I was experiencing a perfect moment.

Like sunshine in Western Washington, sex is meant to be somewhat ephemeral. We get swept up and filled with joy. Sex should make us feel good, whatever we are into, and we can carry those good feelings into all the other areas of our lives. But by all means, fuck outdoors when you get a chance.

Jan 092013

Evoë readingIs it possible to have too much sex?

My brain and my sex drive say no way, but my body would like to object. I’ve been trying to strike a balance between the two, finding new and more creative ways to gratify my desire for sex, while giving my more delicate bits a rest. I’m a cheerful mess.

The muscles in my thighs and shoulders are sore – the result of some aerobic fucking. My clitoris is hot and throbbing. Masturbation and vibrator use has quite worn it out. Despite my attempts to stop pushing the button, sometimes the need has simply overcome my good intentions. Experiencing a little bit of a stinging sensation last night convinced me to stick with penetration. All the area of my mons is bruised from too much pressure and impact. There is a dull ache in my lower abdomen, presumably from repeated thrusting deep inside my cunt. My breasts feel overly full, nipples relaying an ecstatic thrill with every random graze of touch.

It actually makes me happy to be aware of my body this way. Sometimes my lust builds on itself, with my heightened awareness of my physical responses turning me on even more. For example, driving a distance home after rough sex and being doubly aroused by the seam of my jeans rubbing across my clit reminds me that I am a highly sexual being who needs release. It’s a cycle that winds me up to great peaks of pleasure.

Maintaining a constant (even low grade) level of arousal can be a lot of fun. Harold and I spent about 24 hours before our last date engaging in fantasy, making out, and a tiny bit of heavy petting. We did our best to inflame passion in each other. He offered to go down on me in a parking lot, but I wasn’t that far gone. I prefer my exhibitionism to be consensual for everyone.

The morning of our date I took a long luxurious bath, reading erotica and chatting with Harold over IM. For the first time in ages I got myself off with my fingers. Then I carefully chose my clothing to fit my mood and the fantasy we had been discussing. Everything helped to set the stage for our time together.

When we made it down to the cabin, I had some idea of taking photos, but we were both too excited. My cunt was soaking wet. I was breathless with anticipation. One kiss led to a big open mouth, tongue thrusting make out session. With every step we took, we fell further down the rabbit hole. Like dominos, each action inevitably brought us to the next, elevating our desire to a firery fierceness. We wrung every bit of pleasure out of that afternoon.

Letting the intensity die down a bit after that, I was able to listen to my body complain about being used so hard. I paid attention. I put antibiotic ointment on my clit because it stung like a fingernail scratch. I took cranberry supplements to stave off any chance of bladder infection from so much oral sex. I used a boric acid capsule in my cunt to avoid a yeast infection from penetration, even though Harold used gloves for digital manipulation. I take care of myself.

Our connection didn’t totally die. When we climbed into bed and fell into each other’s arms I felt the lust surge back up again. I wanted this man, wanted to hold him inside me, wanted to thrust into his soul. He was hard almost immediately and I was ready to go without any foreplay. We fucked for a second time that day, lush and lusting. When we were done I used the vibrator to come again.

butterflyI’m still going through my day feeling mildly aroused. Despite various pangs, I masturbated in the shower this morning. I am walking a knife’s edge between maintaining physical comfort and fulfilling physical desire. If my mind or emotions ever tell me to stop, I will. Sometimes this much intensity makes me feel uncomfortable. Occasionally, frustration over lack of fulfillment makes me break down.

Is this sex addiction? I don’t think such a thing exists. Can you be addicted to love? Or air? Everyone needs sex. It’s true that some people are prone to obsessive behavior around sex. People tend to make the same mistakes over and over, hoping for a better outcome, but addiction? My behavior during these times doesn’t hurt anyone and isn’t out of control. It’s more like living in a favorite erotic novel.

Too much sex? No, not yet enough for me.

Nov 222012

I like to cook. Food is a fascinating artistic medium as well as a sensuous pleasure. I enjoy experimenting with taste, texture, and color. Baking is science and I want to experiment with all of the possibilities. Our family has a variety of dietary limitations so I am constantly challenged to find interesting solutions to traditional recipes. Thankfully, since I spend a lot of time in the kitchen, cooking with a partner gets me hot. All of the smelling and tasting and kissing goes right to my cunt. On more than one occasion we have ended up naked on the kitchen floor, rolling around covered in olive oil.

Yesterday I wanted to get a head start on my holiday preparations while the children were still at school by baking pumpkin pies. I also asked Blyss to help me with some sexy photos. Why not combine the two since the kitchen is loaded with erotic potential? This fun and hotness ensued…

 It started with the blender

The immersion blender is so phallic and full of vibration. It’s giving me ideas!

Licking the spatula

Just a taste. I like to lick.

I want to do dirty things with coconut milk

This coconut milk is so creamy. I just want…

Just a taste

The creamy milk covers my tongue and drips down my chest, warm and sweet.

It feels sensuous

It feels so sensuous to have the coconut milk run down my chin and between my breasts. I want more.

Coconut milk dripping off one breast

Coconut milk covers my breast and nipple, lusciously  dripping on my belly.

Milk down the back, ass, and thighs

I need to try out the sensation on my back. My cunt starts opening with the erotic flow of sweet liquid pouring over my ass. I haven’t had this much fun in a while.

Totally turned on

A silken sheen covers my body as I slide in the pooled milk. I long to be fucked.

Beyond turned on

I’m beyond turned on, in that place where I need release so bad. What can I do?

fucking the whisk

I’m embarrassed to be this intimate with a kitchen tool, but this wire whisk has a handle just perfect for fucking.

Wire whisk fucking

I clutch the whisk, driving it deeper toward my g-spot. I can’t believe how good it feels.

Satisfied at last

I am finally sated, covered head to toe in coconut milk and blissfully happy. And I have just enough time to mop the floor and take a shower before the children get home!

(Photos by Blyss Enns)

Sinful Sunday

May 312012

Riding cropLabels get in the way sometimes. I’ve been asking myself if I’m a sadist or a masochist, as though there is a continuum with each term on either end. What I’m coming to understand is that sadism and masochism are separate things. It doesn’t have to be either/or, you can enjoy giving and receiving pain. Or neither. I’m not hung up on the labels, I just want to understand myself and be able to communicate my preferences to others.

I’m not much into pain. I don’t get off on feeling pain, but… sometimes pain is a very nice sensation in the midst of sexual play, like having my nipples pinched when I’m just about to come. The important thing is context – foreplay. I don’t like to be fucked dry and I don’t enjoy being slapped in the face over dinner, but if we work up to it and I’m in the right frame of mind, I would love to be fucked and slapped. Does that make me a masochist?

Maybe if we make a scale of masochism from 0 to 10, with 0 being no fucking way and 10 being I can’t get off without experiencing a lot of pain. Then I think I’m maybe a 2 or a 3.

If we have the same scale for sadism, with 0 being I would never hurt anyone and 10 being I whipped 3 people before breakfast, then I’m probably still a 2 or a 3. I was just starting to believe that maybe I was a bit of a sadist when I tried it out for real.

KnifeI was angry yesterday – one of those days where I just hate everyone and everything for no particular reason. I tried talking it out, first with Joel, then with Harold. I was feeling like having some rough sex and so was Harold, so I strung him up in leather cuffs. I tied up his balls and gave him a thorough work over. I started with some squeezing and light taps and steadily increased intensity until he was sagging in his cuffs.

This may seem like sadism on my part, but it’s not. No really. I love doing CBT (cock and ball torture) with Harold because he loves it. It turns me on to see him respond so much to something I am doing to his body. I like kissing him and blowing him for the same reason – he gets off on it. Harold’s obvious enjoyment gets me totally fucking wet. Am I sadistic if he likes it?

But I was feeling pissy. I thought that maybe I could work out some of my anger on Harold. For all that he loves to have his balls abused, he is not into cock torture. I decided that I would inflict a huge amount of pain on him by caning his penis, thereby assuaging my rage. I got his consent, making sure that he understood. He is a dear man and was willing to put himself in my hands for whatever I needed to do.

Cock and ball leashI was very nervous. That’s probably why I missed on the first stroke. I hit him on the chest. The chest is nowhere near the cock. I was mortified at how un-smooth my moves were. All of my anger kind of dissipated in my embarrassment and concern over the welt that was forming. Still, I gathered my resolve and tried again. This time I hit at the base of his cock, instantly forming a series of purple blood blisters. I was horrified. I actually hurt him!

This is why I say I am not a sadist. Causing pain makes me anxious, not horny. Unless of course, my partner is into pain, and then I’m totally there. I have liked pushing Harold’s boundaries, but only where it turned him on. Yes, I do amazingly painful things to his balls, but is it perceived as pain?

This is what it’s like in my head. I think about this kind of thing a lot, but it’s all just labels. In the end, the only thing that matters is what works for you and your partners. Examining my inner workings can be excruciating… and if I’m not a masochist (or a sadist), why am I torturing myself?


Related posts:

  • Lust for power
  • Top or bottom?
  • Falling over the edge (play)
  • All of you
  • Pain and sex

Mar 192012

My HandI’ve reviewed so many sex toys that I thought perhaps it was time to go back to one of the classics, My Hand. My Hand came with the original package and has grown and evolved with my needs over the years. In some ways it is the ultimate sex toy, the thing that all sex toys attempt to do better.

Versatility is really key with My Hand. Not only can My Hand be utilized to bring pleasure to myself, it can also be used with any of my partners! This amazing piece of equipment can replace a paddle, a vibrator, a dildo, a men’s masturbatory sleeve, a butt plug, and some nipple clamps. My Hand also feels amazing just skimming along the skin’s surface or digging in for deep massage.

I used to use My Hand to get myself off, but over time I’ve come to enjoy vibrators more. If My Hand has a flaw, it’s that I can’t get it to vibrate fast enough. Still, it’s always handy in a pinch. It’s very flexible and easy to position, always the right temperature, and usually just the right size. Regretfully, I am unable to reach my own g-spot with My Hand.

I can reach my girlfriend’s g-spot however. My Hand transmits an amazing amount of sensation. Having My Hand inside of her is one of my favorite things in life. I can also squeeze and tease her nipples with My Hand. My Hand is also quite useful with my men, especially around the cock and balls, where some digital manipulation is well received. My Hand is fantastic at squeezing, rubbing, and pumping. But that’s not all! My Hand also has some probing action – perfect for back-door play. In fact, nothing is better for prostate stimulation than My Hand. Impact play is a natural, of course. You can’t get any more basic than slapping and spanking.

There are times when My Hand does not have a long enough reach. I should point out, while the power supply is phenomenal (no batteries!), the energy is not infinite. My Hand does sometimes get tired and may even cramp. Also, it requires some upkeep. Mainly, nail trimming and moisturizing. My Hand is a snap to clean though – just use soap and warm water. And safer sex is smooth in a non-latex glove. I think My Hand looks suave and stylish in the black ones.

My Hand comes in a variety of colors, most of them perfectly suited to the owner – none of that terrible pink color that many sex toys come in. No sex toy can compete with the portability of My Hand (except perhaps My Tongue). My Hand won’t take up valuable luggage space or invite ridicule from TSA agents.

I just adore how subtle My Hand is. I use it every day in millions of ways, have it right out in plain sight, and no one would ever guess that I just had My Hand in my partner’s ass. It’s that great! I can shake hands at a business meeting and they would only know that I use My Hand to spank my partner if they read my blog. I love mixing it up like that, as though our bodies are just normal when we have sex. It’s so cool.

My HandMy Hand is way more than a sex toy. I use it to flip people off, write, pick my nose, scratch backs, and tie shoes. I’ve never had a dildo that could do all of that. No, My Hand is pretty fucking brilliant. And the best part is the low, low cost. Unless you’ve somehow lost the one you were born with (or managed to be born without one), My Hand is in your grasp right now.

Bottom line: don’t wave goodbye to the vibrator just yet, but give a round of applause to My Hand.

Grade: A-


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