October 17, 2011

Unsolicited Sex Toy Review: Doc Johnson Lucid Dream #14 Multi-Speed Waterproof G-Spot Vibrator

Hello, baby.

I'm not much for sex toy reviews. I think they're a lazy source for blog content.


I was watching some PornHub (as one does) one afternoon and while trawling through the squirt category (as one does) I found a clip of a cute blonde girl who gushed copiously thanks to a grape jelly-colored toy. (Sidebar? Unless you really loved the soundtrack to Dazed and Confused, watch that video on mute. End sidebar.) I immediately opened a new tab and searched Amazon for "purple vibrator."

After flipping through a few pages, I found my new pal, the Doc Johnson Lucid Dream #14 Multi-Speed Waterproof G-Spot Vibrator, and at $15 with shipping, I couldn't pass on it.

The packaging, adorned with flowers and swirly lettering, has a fun, psychedelic, Haight-Ashbury circa 1969 look. The toy takes two AA batteries (not included). That white part at the bottom screws off and the batteries pop in. There's a silicone o-ring inside the battery case that's supposed to make the toy waterproof, but I've not tried taking it into the shower yet. It's supposedly made of pthalate-free vinyl, though even with several washings and airing out it retains a chemical smell--you should probably use a condom on it.

Once I put batteries in the toy and turned the knob at the bottom, I was shocked and impressed: It was practically silent. Even at the highest setting (which packs a punch) it emitted only a quiet thrum. As long as you masturbate quietly, nobody in the next room will ever be the wiser.

However, it will be hard to masturbate quietly with this thing, because oh my God. The thick nubbin at the head (where the buzzy part is) feels incredible against your clit. It feels even better when you slide it just inside your pussy, because the curve at the head snuggles up against your g-spot. It feels fantastic jammed deeply inside you, where the vibrations shake through your entire core.

The Lucid Dream #14 is cheap, cute, and quiet. There's a whole range of Doc Johnson Lucid Dream toys, so if a Doc Johnson PR person sees this post: I like your product. Please send me some more.

August 28, 2011

Paging Dr. Jung redux

I had a dream about Doug last night. I was parking my car on a tree-lined street in an expensive neighborhood, and while I was feeding the meter, I saw him and my co-worker having a fight in a car across the street. They were screaming at each other, and then he grabbed her, plopped her on his lap, and started violently fucking her. Her face was blank, like she was thinking, "just let it happen, just let him finish. It'll all be over soon."

In the dream, I felt a pang of jealousy -- the sex with Doug was always a lot of fun, but I never knew him to have a violent streak. Quite to the contrary; if I had asked him to choke or slap me while we fucked I'm sure he would have been alarmed.

I turned back to my parking meter and smashed it with my elbow. Shiny quarters spilled out onto the ground and I filled my pockets with them.

April 19, 2011

August II

We don't mind suckin' on toes
Good luck finding a boyfriend who sucks toes
- Tenacious D, Double Team.

Friday night, we'd had giant steins of beer at the Hofbrauhaus Pittsburgh with our friends. Doug had his hand on my knee under the table and his fingers sent a shiver up my back. When we got back to our hotel room, we hugged in the doorway (I loved hugging Doug) and he surprised me by lifting me up off the floor. I squealed and we fell into bed and fooled around for hours.

Before the Pirates game the next afternoon, I kissed my way down his chest and sucked him off until he came in my mouth. I curled up with my arms around his calf like I had before, but this time Doug pulled my leg onto his chest. My foot was in his face. It was now or never. I wiggled my toes and waited.

First I felt him kiss the pad of my big toe. His touch was tentative and sweet. I sighed. I felt his tongue on the pad of my big toe, then his teeth, and eventually he was sucking on my toes. He was clutching my ankle and caressing my calf with the other. I was in heaven. I told him that. I was so turned on I snaked my hand between my legs and played with my clit until I came, curling my toes in his mouth.

When I finally came down, I crawled up to his face and kissed him all over, thanking him with every one.

April 11, 2011

August I

"Let's go check out the pool."

Doug and I changed into our bathing suits and headed up to the top floor of the Westin Reston to take a dip. We thought we'd have the place to ourselves (I had visions of Showgirls-style fucking in the pool) but a teenage lifeguard cramped our style. We splashed around for a while until we got completely pruney and headed back downstairs to our suite.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and I turned on the baseball game of the week while Doug got a shower. I was standing in the living room of the suite watching Cliff Lee pitch when Doug came up behind me and kissed my shoulder and neck. I groaned classlessly. We made out a little, then I pulled away to rinse off the chlorine from the pool.

I emerged from the bathroom to find Doug in bed watching baseball. Good man. I jumped into bed next to him, he peeled my fluffy hotel bathrobe off, and we got down to business. I wrapped myself around him and we kissed like crazy. He ran his fingers down over my hips and down behind my knees to hold me open while he licked and sucked my nipples. It drove me crazy; I clutched his hair and whispered for him not to stop. Finally, finally, he slid his fingers into me and I groaned with pleasure. He fucked me with his fingers and marveled at how wet I was. After a few minutes of thrashing around with his fingers in my cunt and my fist in my mouth to keep me from screaming, I came all over his hand. He offered his fingers to me to suck clean.

We changed positions and I got between his knees to go down on him. I cupped his balls while I took him into my throat the way he liked and it didn't take long for him to push me off and onto my back to fuck me. He threw my ankles over his shoulders and drove himself into me until he shuddered and came all over my pussy. He collapsed on top of me and I kissed his sweaty forehead. We wrapped our arms and legs around each other and clung together.

After we cleaned up and went out for dinner, we went back to the suite to fool around some more. We wrestled back and forth on the 500-thread count sheets and I ended up on all fours above him. I stopped suddenly and positioned myself perpendicular to him. He got the hint.

I felt him slide his hand up the backs of my calves and thighs and pause for a moment before he brought his hand down on the fleshiest part of my ass.

"Unnngh." He hit me again. "Unnnnnnngh." Again. "Unnnnngh!" Harder this time. "UNGH!" Harder again. "More!" Still harder. "Yaaaaagh! MORE!" Between slaps he'd slip his fingers into my slit and tease my clit.

He whispered, "You dirty, dirty girl."

I was frantic. "UnnnnghyesIamdon'tstop!"

He spanked me until my ass felt red hot and finally he shoved his fingers into my cunt again and fucked me hard and fast. The deeper he fingered me the more I arched my back until I felt like I had bent myself backward and came again all over his thick fingers. I curled up next to him in the fetal position while my breathing evened out. We faced each other and kissed sweetly.

I got on all fours above him and slid my drenched pussy up and down against his dick. He instantly got hard and growled at me to get on my back. I flipped over, spread my legs wide and he slid in. We knotted ourselves together and fucked hard. I held onto his shoulders and chest, and his eyes rolled back in his head when I'd run my thumbs over his nipples and he'd fuck me even harder. I loved it. I threw my head back and let him pound me into the padded headboard, egging him on with a stream of dirty blather. We came together, my fingers on my clit, his fingers clutching my legs.

The next morning, I smiled when I found five little bruises on the top of each thigh.

January 26, 2011



It was a Thursday night, and I had just come home from the bar. We had been trading text messages all night, and he asked:

Do you want to share a room in Chicago?

Sure. One bed or two?




July, Chicago

We met at the end of Navy Pier during an Old 97's concert. The sun set over Lake Michigan and sparkled on the water, giving the Gold Coast its namesake glow. It had been a broiling hot day; I had trudged from Michigan Avenue to the end of Navy Pier in 95 degree heat and the sweat had poured off me. I told him I was going to get a shower. Secretly, I hoped he would get in with me.

After my shower, I put on a pair of clean pajamas, brushed my teeth, shut out the lights, and climbed into the 400 thread count sheets. I don't remember what I was expecting him to do, but Doug rolled to face me and we kissed feverishly. He pulled my top off and I made a mental note to 86 the pajamas for the next night. Our tongues slid together and we rolled back and forth under the puffy down comforter. He knew how much I liked his fingers inside me, and after he helped me pull off my bottoms, he pinioned one leg between his and spread me open. He breathed in my ear.

"God! You're so wet! How do you get so wet?" He slid his fingers up and down my slit, which an angry Russian woman had waxed bare a day before.

"I want you. Put your fingers inside me. Please."

I wrapped my arm around his shoulders while he teased me with his thick fingers, first one, then another. We kissed while I stroked my clit and came with his fingers all the way inside me. Two or three times I came like this, on his fingers, wrapped in his arms. Eventually he pulled his fingers from my cunt and offered them to me to suck clean.

"Thank you," I breathed.

We switched positions and I knelt next to him on all fours. I worked my way down his body, nuzzling his neck, tasting his nipples, nibbling him here and there, stroking his cock all the while. My fingertips played over the head, spreading his precome up and down the tip and making him gasp and buck beneath me. I ended up in a modified sixty-nine with his dick in my mouth. His hands were free to touch and play with my bottom half, but I wasn't sitting on his face (which is a mental hurdle I don't think I'll ever be able to clear).

I took him deep into my throat and held him there, letting the muscles of my throat flex around him. I have to thank the men I'd been with before Doug for their massive cocks, because they've made deep throating a more mortal size dick a breeze. "Gaaaaahhhhhhhhhh," he gasped, "You're soooooooo gooooooood." He played with my dripping pussy and spanked my ass while I gave him a wet, messy blow job. I massaged his balls and slowly stroked his shaft with all the excess spit.

I had already come but I still wanted to fuck; I didn't feel the night would be complete until we did. "Please don't come yet?" I asked. "Please fuck me?"

He set me back at the head of the bed. He spread me apart again and knelt between my legs. I scooched my butt up toward his pelvis and he entered me, finally. He spread my knees even wider and pushed my thighs back to my chest and placed my ankles on his shoulders. I arched my back again and fucked back onto him, the position of being so open and exposed turning me on even more. We varied the positions of my legs--wrapped around his hips, my knees over his shoulders, or grabbing onto his knees and thighs as we fucked. We sensed the other was near the end: I reached between my legs to play with my clit, and he held my thighs to get leverage and fuck me deeper and harder.

I braced my arms behind me on the padded headboard and begged, "Ohhhhhhh, fuck me, yes, fuck me fuck me fuck me, please, fuck me!" He sped up and I came again, twitching and arching my back onto his cock. My orgasm brought his on; He thrust a few more times, spasming and collapsing on top of me with a groan of release. I held his head to my breast and his thick hair was soaked with sweat. His cowlicks were standing up every which way. I found this endearing.

The next afternoon, after a brutally hot noon game at Wrigley, everyone in our group retired to their respective hotels to shower and nap. I made him come in that all fours position again. This time he finished in my mouth, and I swallowed it all.

I stretched out next to him, kissing my way down his leg to his ankle and curling myself around his calf like a teddy bear. He let me rest like this with my head at the foot of the bed for a few minutes before he sat up and changed his position. He kissed my ankle and the arch of my foot and began to work his way up and between my legs. "Ooooooh," I breathed.

"Open." I spread my legs.

He stroked my slit and settled himself between my legs to eat. The thing I liked even more than his tongue lapping at my clit was when he'd pull back for a breath, then nuzzle his stubbly face deeper between my legs. The feel of his stubble against my bare pussy lips was electrifying; he could have made me come just by pressing his unshaven chin deeper into my cunt.

The cheeky interior designer who chose the furnishings for the room had placed an antiqued wall-size mirror at the foot of the bed. As Doug worked on me, I arched my back and caught the outrageous sight: Tits in the air, nipples erect, knees hitched up and spread wide, the top of Doug's head between my legs, his hands wrapped around my thighs, his ankles crossed casually against the headboard. It was as close as I'll ever get to watching my own sex tape. It was HOT.

"Oh my God," I moaned, "Put your fingers inside me, please!" He complied; I almost watched myself orgasm in the mirror, but I closed my eyes for the finish and let it wash over me.

August 20, 2010

You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll come again and again.

Please enjoy the most heartwarming porno ever made.

July 13, 2010

Not Myself Tonight

In the morning
When I wake up
I'll go back to the girl I used to be
But baby not tonight
- Christina Aguilera, Not Myself Tonight.


My friend Doug and I are big fans of the singer-songwriter Rhett Miller. If you're not familiar with Rhett Miller, he's the lead singer of the Old 97's, but his solo records are great too. His songs are full of heartbreak and longing, and he's very sexy. He is wonderful in concert; I've lost track of how many times I've been to see him and the 97's.

Doug emailed me to ask if I wanted to go see Rhett Miller with him in Annapolis. He had an extra ticket and since we've been to see the Old 97's with him before he thought I might like to go with him. I was already planning to visit friends in Northern Virginia that weekend, so I said I'd be happy to go with him.


Doug and I had been to see the Old 97's a couple of years before in Lancaster; that weekend he got us a room at a crappy roadside motel. We got a double room and we laughed about the disgusting carpet and polyester blankets. But when I woke up the next morning, he was staring me while I slept. The Phillies had lost the night before; when the talking heads on Sportscenter recapped the game, he patted the sheet next to him and said, "Are you sad about the Phillies? Do you need a cuddle?" I chuckled and rolled over. But I laid awake, wondering what he meant by that.


The text read, "This room is WAY nicer than the Knights Inn."

I met Doug at the hotel in Annapolis and dropped off my bag. He was right; the room was gorgeous, with fabulous linens and a chic bathroom.

"Let's drink!" And we were off.

We walked down the quaint main street and headed to the bar where Rhett was going to play. We sat down at the bar and ordered a round, and then another. When we went to dinner, Rhett walked through the dining room and I gasped and pointed -- he's so foxy.


During Rhett's set Doug and I leaned in toward each other to talk and our knees touched under the table. I felt tension crackle between us.

After Rhett played, we walked down to the harbor to a bar I remembered from when I sailed to Annapolis years before. An outstanding three piece band played party hits and we danced and drunk texted our friends and drank lagers and shots of double espresso vodka, which he hated. So I drank his.

We drank and drank and drank and when last call came we staggered out to hail a cab and headed back to the hotel. We got back to the room and got ready for bed; we shared the sink to brush our teeth and I bent over to take a sip from the faucet to rinse my mouth out. I looked over my shoulder at him, up on tiptoes, ass in the air. He stared, his mouth hanging open. I smiled and walked out.

I didn't feel comfortable getting undressed in front of him so I pulled my pajama pants up under my skirt and shimmied my skirt down over my pants. He came out of the bathroom and watched me fish my tank top down into my polo.

I started to say, "In high school, I used to get changed for crew practice this way," but he strode over to me and kissed me, hard. I groaned into his mouth and he pushed me back onto the bed.

He yanked my shirt off and kissed my neck. I arched my back and folded my arms behind me to take off my bra. So much for modesty.

"I've wanted this for so long, WB," he whispered into my ear.

"I had no idea." He bit my earlobe.

"Yes you did."

"Well. I kinda thought so."

We kissed some more. I raked my fingers through his thick hair and he worked me over with his meaty hands.

I have a type: Tall and skinny and hipstery and tattooed (you know, like Red). Doug is a big guy, a former college lineman. He's thick and solid and sweaty and very, very butch. Until he kissed me I had never thought of him That Way, but once we rolled back and forth on those 600 thread count sheets, I just melted. I would do whatever he wanted.

I did the lift and let him pull off my panties and throw them on the floor. I tugged his boxer briefs off and he kicked those to the floor too. He laid next to me and breathed in my ear.

"We can't tell anybody."

"I know."

"It's our dirty little secret."

"Yeah. Very dirty."

Then he said those magic words: "Are you a dirty girl?"

I felt my pussy get even wetter.

"Unghhhhhh yesssssssss!"

I got on all fours above him and kissed him. He wrapped his big hands around my waist while I worked on his neck and ears. I reached down between his legs and felt his cock, hard and hot and slick with precome. I stroked his dick. He gazed at me, eyes glassy with lust.

"Tell me what you want," I murmured.

"Head," he croaked. "Gimme head."

I stopped at all the usual stations on the way to his dick; shoulders, chest, belly, the fold between his torso and his hip. I nudged his knees apart and settled myself between his legs. The tip of his dick was shiny with precome and I tasted him with the tip of my tongue; he sucked in his breath. I took him in my mouth and he groaned with pleasure.

I worked on him for a while, and I guess he had a touch of whiskey dick, because he pulled me up next to him and slipped his hand between my legs. He circled my wet clit with two fingers and sucked on my nipples. "Ohhhhh, fuuuuuuuuck," I groaned, and opened my legs. He pressed one thick finger into me and I slipped my fingers down to play. He added another finger and worked them slowly in and out. I hadn't been fucked in months; I was so tight around his fingers, and being stretched felt so delicious. I felt the orgasm roll over me and I came on his hand; he pulled his fingers out and shoved them in my mouth. I sucked them clean, tasting the dark, salty wetness of my cunt on his hand.

Next I got on all fours. He took the hint and got up behind me, holding onto my hips. His dick grazed my pussy and slipped back and forth over my ass, which felt good, but wasn't what I had in mind. I peeked over my shoulder: "Are you trying to fuck my ass, Doug?" I laughed. I would have let him. But it wasn't working from behind, and he plopped down next to me. We laid there, catching our breath. He laced his fingers through mine.


I woke up naked the next morning, my head throbbing. I groaned. "Holy shit." Doug staggered to the bathroom, and I slithered to the floor to find the pajamas I had so hastily removed the night before. I got dressed and slipped into to the cool sheets of the second bed. When he emerged, Doug crawled into bed with me, curling up behind me and resting his big hand on my hip. He just left it there for a few minutes. He started making circles with his palm and ran his hand into the curve of my waist.

I sighed and scootched back to him and let him put his arm around my waist. I laced my fingers through his. He brushed my hair forward and kissed the back of my neck and my shoulders and I shivered with pleasure. I rolled over to face him and we wrapped ourselves around each other and kissed, slow and deep. I didn't realize until then what a terrific kisser he was, detailed, observant and patient.

He slid my shirt up to my neck and sucked my nipples again. I arched my back to meet his mouth and he ran his hand down my stomach between my legs. I was so wet again and I shimmied out of my pants. "Open," he said, and I spread my legs. He got up on his knees with his dick by my head and started fingering me again. I turned toward him and took his dick in my mouth. I sucked him for a while and he played with my hair and my tits. Occasionally he'd swat my tits or my face. (Just writing about those little slaps is getting me wet.)

"Open," he commanded. He leaned down and put his face in my pussy. I moaned into his cock while he licked my clit and fingered me. It felt good, but I knew I wouldn't come again, so I focused on him. I took him all the way in, arched my back, and played with his balls. I felt the heat radiating off of him.

"Are you gonna come for me?" I murmured.

"Oh God, yes."

I sucked him some more, arching my back to slide him in and out of my mouth. His breaths got shorter and faster and finally he pulled back and jerked himself off to finish. He finally came in my mouth, hot and white. I swallowed it all.

May 11, 2010

La Tour Eiffel

Last night, on a whim [cough cough] while I was drunk [cough], I posted what I think is one of the best, funniest pieces I've ever written to Casual Encounters. Here's what I wrote:

Have you ever been to Paris?

Then you've seen the Eiffel Tower.

Before I turn 30, I want to live out one of my fantasies: I want two hot, smart, preppy, straight/straightish guys to fuck me at the same time.

My fantasy is that we meet at a swank bar downtown. We get tipsy and two of you whisper nasty things into my ears and get me so worked up you take me back to your bachelor pad and fuck me together.

You and your pal are: 25-35, fit, hung, college educated (or are pursuing your degree), and secretly freaky. For example: You wear a coat and tie to work, but you liven up boring meetings by sending girls pictures of your rock-hard cock from your Blackberry.

I am: 29, brunette, big tits, big ass, smart as a whip, and preppy with a wild streak. I might wear a polo shirt and a madras skirt to our date, but don't be surprised when I tell you to slap me while we fuck.

Use the word "Topsiders" in your email so I know you're for real.

I received a couple of promising responses! Now I just need to get drunk again so I can respond.

January 28, 2010

Kitchen nightmares

A recurring dream I have took an interesting turn this week.

I used to fool around with a guy named [redacted]. We met, as so many people do these days, in Casual Encounters, and we settled into a routine: I'd go over to his house on Wednesday nights, we'd watch South Park, drink a few beers, fool around, and I'd leave. Physically and personality-wise, he wasn't really my type, but it was a fun little way to kill a few hours. There were no strings attached. It was great.


The first time we met, we made idle chit chat as I sipped a vodka and iced tea. I was getting impatient. I didn't drive 45 minutes to talk about the weather. I finished my drink, placed my glass on the coffee table, and straddled him on his couch in one smooth motion.

"Mmmm, you're eager," he mumbled into my mouth.

He slid his hands up my back and tossed my shirt to the floor. I ground my hips against his and nibbled his ears.

THWACK. He whacked my ass with an open palm.

"Stay away from my ears."

Well. This is an interesting little game he wants to play. I'd said I liked to be spanked. So did he really think I'd obey? I went back to his ears with my tongue.

THWACK! The other cheek. Now each of us knew where the other stood.


I liked when I'd sit next to him on his couch and he'd slowly slide his hand up the inside of my leg. It'd take him the entire show to work his way up to my crotch. Once he'd get to my panties, he'd gently start stroking the outside of my panties, occasionally slipping a finger inside the elastic of my undies. The tease was the best part of the whole enterprise. Eventually, I'd crack and I'd shove him down onto the couch and sit on his face, or I'd grab his hand and drag him upstairs, ripping off my clothes on the way up the steps. Sometimes he'd follow me upstairs and grab my hips and start eating me from behind right on the steps. That was fun.

I also have him to thank for introducing me to the fun of clothespins. One night, after I had come about five times, he spread my legs and started massaging my labia. I felt a pinch. Then another. Then another.

"Ooh, what are you doing?"

"Have you ever played with clothespins before?"


"Well, let's see how much you like it."

I laid back and let him work and eventually he said, "I don't have any more."

I reached between my legs and started counting -- 13!

One night, [redacted] and I had been trading dirty texts while I was at a Phillies game and instead of going home after the game, I went to his house. I drove all the way to [redacted] from South Philadelphia with one hand on the wheel and the other in my panties. Once I got to his house, he let me in and slammed the door closed behind me, pulling my hair, kissing me roughly and unbuttoning my pants with the other hand. He threw me onto the steps in his entry and fucked me from behind right then, while I stroked my clit with my face grinding into the carpeted steps. It was ridiculously hot. He pulled out and came all over my ass.


So. The dream. It starts out in reality -- the night that I went to his house after the Phillies game and we fucked on the steps in his entry. After we caught our breath on the steps, we went into his kitchen to have a drink. I remember neither of us were wearing pants, but we both still had t-shirts on. Mine was pink.

We sipped our drinks and chatted about our day. Then [redacted] put his drink down and kissed my neck and reached between my legs, his hand damp and cold from the glass. He slid his fingers up and down my slit and around my clit in circles. "Unnnnngh," I groaned, eyes closed. I braced myself on the counter behind me as he pushed one thick finger, then another, inside me. My head fell back in ecstasy. He fingered me, hard, while I played with my clit and braced myself against the counter behind me.

I came, standing on tippy toes, legs shaking, gushing all over his hand and onto his kitchen floor.

The most recent time I had this dream, though, it took a kinky new turn: When I came all over his hand, I dropped to the floor and lapped up the puddle of my come like a kitten.