Shopping for Sex Toys

So yesterday I was Skyping with my girlfriends Annie and Sarah. I was ranting on and on about that damn Hoda and Kathie Lee, who keep having all kinds of offensive stuff on their show. Like last week when they were doing a segment on spicing up your sex life and one of the items that they had on offer were candy bras and thongs. Candy bras are one thing, but when looking at the thong all I could think is “Yeah, Dave’s going to love it if I offer him candy that’s been wedged up my ass crack.”

Par for the discourse with my girlfriends, we got around to discussing sex swings. Personally I’ve always thought the contraptions are interesting, except, as I was telling the ladies, I’m not going to trust my naked body to something suspended precariously from my ceiling. Can you imagine the scene when the paramedics arrive to find me naked and trussed up under the rubble when the ceiling collapses? Well I can. It’s not pretty, and not going to happen if I can avoid it.

Anywho. Sarah pipes up with “What’s a sex swing?” She’s from New Hampshire, they are all naive up there. So with a few clicks of my keyboard I’ve got a website that I’m sharing with the girls. I probably should have warned Sarah that it was NSFW, but heck she wears big girl pants. I figured she could handle it. I’m sure they don’t really check the websites she visits at work. Maybe.

Turns out they aren’t as comfortable looking at one would have imagined. I’m looking at the thing and all I can think of is that those straps are going to cause my fat to flop over the sides and that’s not gonna hot looking. Honestly, you say sex swing and I’m thinking about a romp in Gilligan’s hammock, or one of those vintage 60’s bubble swing chairs. Clearly my sex life is 3 parts nostalgia to one part lubricant.

So, now y’all know Surly’s no prude. I’ve owned a sex toy or three in my life time. Every girl worth her crotchless panties owns a pocket rocket and the revolutionary Rabbit. We’ve got bits and bobs, purchased at those fuckerware parties suburban housewives throw, that we keep in our bedside table drawers. However, I’ve never really contemplated purchasing serious and sizeable equipment to augment my sex life. Owning this kind of stuff requires a serious dedication and a special room. I have real trouble imagining setting up the guest room as a sexual playroom, especially since that where my in-laws sleep when they come to visit. But that didn’t keep me from window shopping.

The first item I came upon was the Caesar Fucking Machine. Honest to God I saw something very much like this in the tool department at Home Depot last week, except I don’t think the one at Home Depot delivers 130 thrusts a minute. Yeah. You heard me right. 130 thrusts a minute. All I can says is not near me. Not without an epidural.

You remember the Hoppity Hop balls that you loved so much in your youth? Well, meet it’s sex toy second cousin The Fetish Fantasy Inflatable Sex Machine. And heck, it comes with a satin blindfold so you don’t have to see the same look on your partner’s face as the guy in the photo is sporting.

While I was off searching in the furniture department and posting these links back in the Skype ‘causing Sarah to scream “my eyes, my eyes” while peering through her fingers at the screen, Annie was shopping in the novelty section of the site. She’s the kind of girl who always has her eye on the perfect hostess gift or stocking stuffer. She came up with this little conundrum. The Vibrating Cherry Scented Mouth Masturbator.

Yeah. I’m with you. Who knew you could masturbate your mouth? Makes sense I guess since Linda Lovelace’s clitoris was discovered to be in her throat in the cinematic classic Deep Throat. I like learning that I have new erogenous zones, but why cherry scented? In the same department they had a little treasure called Tongue Joy, a vibrator for your tongue. Yeah, this looks hot, doesn’t it? I wonder how long after wearing it you have to wait for feeling to return so you can eat.

Now, like any modern woman whose read Our Bodies Ourselves, I believe I’m entitled to the best oral sex I can get. So, if there’s a little something on offer to help make this little “me, me, me” moment better, I’m all for it. Well almost. This handy little tool leaves me in mind of a Scold’s Bridle. Compare and contrast if you will.

In the end, I did wind up getting a little something for Dave from the shopping trip. It’s the fun kind of gift that I’m sure will provide hours of family fun. Now, if I can get him to agree to let me write a post about it!