Leo - A Sex Toy Review

I met her in front of a prominent sex shop in NYC. She was incredibly nervous, anticipating her first steps into a world (or store) that she never experienced before. I took her by the hand and led her inside. I had been to this store countless times and today, with her in tow...i was to make a fantasy of mine become a reality.

As we were looking around, I spotted him. "He" stood 7"  inches with 1-½" girth and was perfectly poised on the intricately designed shelfing unit. I almost blushed and forgot all about the girl I came in with. I walked up to him and let my hands envelop it. I wanted to play with him a little more but it would have been inappropriate to do so in the store. Instead I picked him up and began to examine him, almost analyze him. His Ivory Shimmer color had this opalescent sheen that hit with the right light, almost made it glow a bit.

"He" also was expertly manufactured by the highly reputable and recommended company Vixen Creations, who have been making premium silicone dildo's and plugs since 1992. Not only is the quality of the product outstanding, but they also come with a lifetime warranty. You really can't beat that!

I found out his name is Leo or more affectionately "Leo Vibe". Also in tow with his impressive size is the fact that he is curved just perfectly to hit your g-spot. Leo is in between a realistic and non-realistic dildo so lovers of cute or sparkly colored designs will love this! Dildo enthusiasts will also love the hollowed out base in which you can slip a tiny bullet vibrator. At first I was skeptical of the vibe's strength, but soon came to find out that it does employ a new dimension to dildo play.

The final test was bringing my Aslan Leather Pink Vinyl Glitter Harness with me to the store to test it's fit and it fit perfectly without the use of a ring to adjust it's size. The price (around $68 dollars) was not breaking the bank to badly and with the lovely girl in tow to help test it out, I had more than enough reasons to purchase it.

After purchasing and a long Q train ride to Brooklyn to her apartment, we began to undress and fit the harness around her beautiful naked body. Once that was done, I properly washed the dildo and slipped a condom onto it when we had it in place. I was about to introduce her to the world of strap-on fucking.

She mounted me in a missionary position and at first the motions were a little off balanced, but still was good enough to make me have my first orgasm ever with her. She asked me if we could change positions and when I gave her permission to do so, her motions because more controlled and intense and 3 more orgasms later...I was spent.

The dildo handled well, given that the girl had never tried it before, she learned quickly and was able to control it very well towards the end. I would highly recommend this product to beginners and experienced alike, especially with the vibrator function, which makes it easier for both parties to enjoy pleasure together.

My only gripe is that the vibrator battery is a watch battery and dies very quickly, but if that is the price to pay for many times well spent with this product, then I'm willing to invest!

The Girl With The BF

Main Entry:

fe·tish 

Variant(s):

also fe·tich  \ˈfe-tish also ˈfē-\

Function:

noun

Etymology:

French & Portuguese; French fétiche, from Portuguese feitiço, fromfeitiço artificial, false, from Latin facticius factitious

Date:

1613

1 a: an object (as a small stone carving of an animal) believed to have magical power to protect or aid its owner ; broadly : a material object regarded with superstitious or extravagant trust or reverence b: an object of irrational reverence or obsessive devotion : prepossession c: an object or bodily part whose real or fantasied presence is psychologically necessary for sexual gratification and that is an object of fixation to the extent that it may interfere with complete sexual expression
I have many fetishes from your typical foot fetish to an extravagant fetish for latex clothing. While my clothing fetish has broken the bank in recent years, I do have to say that one fetish of mine in particular comes at no price at all.
Readers, I must confess....I have a BF, otherwise known as a "Butt Fetish"
The power of a supreme ass cannot be describe in words. It must be looked upon. The allure of that beautiful shape must be worshipped, licked, bitten, and caressesed. The roundness, the softness, the juicy tenderess of a perfect ass is magicial, even otherworldly. 
If you have ever been near me, even in a small capacity, I have to admit that I probably checked out your booty. I'm very critical of the ass, making remarks such as..ooooh that's too flat..bummer or WOW look at the SHEER SIZE OF IT!
The bigger, the better for me. Once I almost lost my composure on the N train going to Astoria on an extremely crowded train when this woman ranging from a size 20 or 22 boarded the train at 14th street. I was standing there with my friend almost squishing each other like sardines in a can when all of a sudden I felt something brush up against my hip. I turned to see who it was and there behold the biggest most magnificent ass I have ever seen. It was like a shelf of ass, like you could put pictures of your family and some candles on it. There could be a fireplace underneath it as the family sits around it on a cold winter's night. I heard chantings and triumphant sounding music in my head, as if the heavens were shining down on it. A warm yellow glow encompassed the ass, almost making it look holy.
I must have had the wierdest look on my face because all of a sudden my friend's uproaring laughter woke me up out of my trance. My face probably turned bright red at that point as I sheepishly turned away and tried to start a random conversation with her still laughing at me all the while still trying to stare. She ended up getting over a few stops later and I resumed normaility.
It's these types of reactions that would start as early as my childhood that led me to believe there is something about that body part that particularly peaks my interest. The more lovers and relationships I partook in, the more feedback about my fetish were revealed to me through conversations with them. It's funny how I never realized it growing up.
I really don't know what to call this new girl that I am getting to know right now. All my friends are busting on me calling her my "girlfriend", but i start to feel squeamish whenever that word is mentioned, partly due to the fact that I'm still feeling this one out and I'm afraid of rushing.
Though I have mentioned it before, and I will probably mention it again and again and again, but she has the most fantastic, asstastic ass EVER!!!!!  She let me have what i like to call "Quality Ass Time" or QAT for short. For 10 minutes, I got to spank, squeeze, bite and massage it. I mean her ass isn't why I'm coming back to her, it's all about her fantastic personality, but the ass is definately a bonus! Not to mention the fact that she is an amazing kisser whose lips I could taste for hours.
Although I may be an intellectual lover, or just plain out nerd, I still have my quirks, or my "fetishes". Though if it's legal and consentual, I say explore them and celebrate them instead of repressing them. Celebrate the ass rather than cover it up, and remember to always use lube!

Vaginal Insecurities

My pussy is brown. There I said it...

I mean it should be, I am a woman of color, though from the outside I don't look it, but I can save my race for another blog post.

While girls wish for bigger breasts, that perfect nose job, liposuction, and botox injections, I on the other hand wish for a pinker pussy. My obsession with the color pink spans from the bedroom to my box in an exquisite manner complete with glitter, sequins and feathers. That is what I want my pussy to look like...the pinkest burlesque fan dance you have ever seen.

As the years have gone by, I have noticed my girl getting darker and darker, even around my inner thighs. My pussy as it stands, is the only indication of my heritage, let alone my dark pink nipples. I sometimes grab a cheap hand mirror, lay down on my bed and stare at her. I take alot of pride in my pussy by shaving it frequently as I like the clean shaven look. As I stare at her, I allow my fingers to trace it's shape. I pay close attention to it's every detail. This ritual can span 5 minutes to hours if I'm really bored with im'ing senseless drivel on gmail.

I sometimes wonder if I have a pretty pussy. I wonder if it is esthetically pleasing to the eye. It's not like I have never seen what another one looks like, but to date I have never been compliment on my precious. In my last relationship, albeit a short one, she would never compliment it, she preferred to look at the macro of my being rather than focusing on the details. I prefer details so our conversations that turned into arguments left me feeling insecure down there. I couldn't understand why it was so hard to tell me I had a pretty girl. I myself am not fully represented by what's down there, but I want my lover past, present of future to appreciate my body and get to know all it's kinks. I don't think that is asking much, and if someone does love you, wouldn't they want to know all that is you? Especially your body?


Since I am still in the healing phase from past heart wrenching drama. I am more than insecure about myself at this point, and although i know this is a passing phase, the next girl to fall between my sheets will hopefully be an understanding one. Will she be interested in my details? Will she hopefully like to place her fingers in my behind (crosses fingers)? Is it possible for it to happen?

I am purposely forcing myself out to a few parties in the upcoming weeks, not just because i have to promote my ass off for my show, but hopefully to use that medium in order to talk to women. To meet new faces in the same old places. With the lesbian scene here in NYC, although it is a small one, I know that I haven't met everyone just yet.

As for my pussy, perhaps I can paint some pink acrylic on her one day, just to say i had a pink pussy.

Vaginal Parasites

Sometimes I wonder why I write in this blog. Why I started it at all. A rush of fears and OMG's flood my head as I ponder how much I should have revealed. Granted, this blog only focuses on a specific part of my life and doesn't encompass the entirety that is me.

I probably could have written that a little more slicker, something that falls out of the tongue a little more fluid, but for today I'll focus on a little bit of drama that is outside the sexual realm and with a little more heart.

My heart as I mention it, has been broken. I can safely say that it really wasn't broken at all. It was pulverized, dismantled, smashed, de-constructed, thrown against a wall, raped, beaten, and destroyed.

They (plural), have no names to me anymore, they are mere vaginal parasites that have thankfully found one another and in a way I am thankful for that. However since there is a link between them and my best friend, I can't fully eradicate them 100% until she wakes up and realizes what disgusting pitiful creatures they really are and eradicates them for herself.

I can't control anyone but I can control how I interact with others. However I have learned a valuable lesson throughout this entire ordeal that has been happening since December now. I have learned to let other's friends BE there friends and not interact with them fully. It sounds confusing but I am sure we have all been there. I have also learned NOT to go after someone through a friend, especially one that has been intimate with. I hate to divulge personal info about others...but this is a matter of learning from my mistakes.

My punishment was an ordeal of such heartwrenching pain, that I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. I felt alone and abandoned and discarded...but it was ok..because it wasn't "their intentions to hurt me". It was perfectly alright, because I am "too sensitive" and that i need to work on myself. Now I am not perfect, but I also don't play mind games, manipulate and deceive people. I am honest as one gets.

The mere gall of hurting someone then making them feel bad for feeling bad still goes over my head. The fact that I let it happen, that I let the vaginal parasites deceive me time and time again, that I constantly went back and tried to work things out thinking that I could better myself FOR THEM...still blows my mind.

They say you only and truly fall in love once...but for me, i fell in love back to back twice. I would have done anything, I would have packed up everything that is this life in Jersey and went anywhere. I was that captivated.

Now all i am is an empty shell, some may view that as starting over, but for me I have no idea where to start at all. I have no idea where to go. I feel like Alice from Alice in Wonderland, just searching for a way home but instead getting lost in a maze. Maybe like in the movie Labyrinth. I keep on searching out hidden corridors only to find myself stuck at the beginning.

I'm yearning to heal in the arms of a woman, but right now I don't even know if I can get close to one right now. This vagina, heart, body, soul is lifeless. If I thought I had trust issues before this, then I was naive. I don't even know if I can trust anyone anymore...let alone myself.

I know this is all part of the healing process...but what if i can't heal? What if this is it for me. What if I am doomed to forever remain single and more importantly sexless?

Perhaps this blog ended as quickly as it was started.....

Vaginal Obssession

The world renowned musical "Gypsy" is known for many things, but for me it is known for the character Mazeppa who said "You Gotta Have A Gimmick!" The first time i saw that movie, the first time i heard those words, it was intricately engrained in my tiny little head. Years later, when I started my ever growing obsession with burlesque, I always kept that in mind.

I tried many different "gimmicks", but none seemed to truly work for me. I did the goth thing, the fetish thing, the James Bond thing. I even did the tortured trapped soul thing for awhile...very angry...very scary.

I was trying to find myself in a world full of sequins and glitter, full of retro-pinups and beautiful slender bodies. I myself am not a contemporary beauty, I am not a size 2, 4, or 6. I am a shaved headed dyke who would rather don a strap-on than a sequin dress.

Though coming out for me, meant that i knew who i was truly. I experimented with different looks, especially when my hair was concerned. I tried wearing different clothes, really emphasizing that "dyke" look.

With performance though, I still needed that spark. What would I do that would separate me as someone with original and creative ideas? Everyone knows that nothing is original anymore, but a personal take on an object or performance art can be. I was on a mission to "gay-ify" my work.

I was heavily inspired by a fellow queer performer extraordinare, and though I know i can hone my skills and become an amazing performer myself, for now I am relegated to being in her shadow. It's ok though as I am still a babydyke and am quickly coming into my own.

Then came an idea that sounded bigger than I could take on. An idea that in itself sounds like i had truly lost my performance mind, but then again what artist hasn't in a way.

I had already stripped out of a giant Hershey Kiss costume...why couldn't I strip out of a giant pussy costume?

The idea came to me months ago but I hesitated working on the project due to the innate fear of not being able to pull it off.

but after 60+ hours...or more...THIS is what I came up with...



I guess this is one way to make a gimmick for a young genderqueer....giggles

Blackouts and Vibrators

I realized yesterday during a blackout that I needed new "source" material for my blog. This was after lighting had struck my building that left the entire block or more without power for an excruciatingly amount of time. The most fatal causality was the incapacitation of my beloved air conditioner which followed the death of the internet with not even so much as a WIFI signal present.

I started to feel claustrophobic and varied my time between going outside the building for air or lounging i super freezing cold baths. I couldn't rest for even one minute. I couldn't even masturbate because my Hitachi Magic Wand is a plug in!

The heat getting to me made me realized that I've turned into a hermit this past week due to weather inclinations. I'm living in the shadow of my air conditioner and gloating about it quite freely to my non-air conditioning friends. I'll admit that I turned into an asshole and divided the world between who has an AC and who doesn't. It was then that my good friend Mercury Retrograde decided that my war should end...and it ended in sweat, tears, and way too many smoked cigarettes.

The blackout lasted for a few hours, but for me it was a millennia. I used the time to think...think about my life, where it's going and where i would like it to go, it was as if the death of my beloved technology made it seem as if my life flashed before my eyes. Am I more dramatic than I realized? Was I really going through technology withdrawal? I guess I'm more dependent on my laptop, internet, and vibrator then I realized.

Speaking of vibrators, my current state of "hermit-ism" has not done wonders for my sex life. It's not like I can't get laid, I absolutely can...but when a city full of lesbians stop at 1:20 in the morning when I have to get on the NJ transit bus to get home, it kind of puts a damper on things.

Case in point. Last Saturday.

I was scheduled to perform a burlesque show at Galapagos. I don't venture into Brooklyn often with the exception of the really hot lesbian party Choice Cunts. However being that it the first stop in Brooklyn on the L train, and that I could transfer to the A line. I accepted the offer. Our show had the main stage and the crowd looked promising, but next door they were having a Turkish Oil Wrestling night. I didn't really pay attention when I first heard about it until i realized that it was a LESBIAN ONLY Turkish oil wrestling night. Well hearing this got my panties wet in a new york minute...it was that good. Thankfully I recognized alot of the performers since the lesbian performing circuit isn't that big, so running into a few of my fav girls and bois made my night. However since the event started at 12 and I had to leave by 12-ish to get home I didn't get to see the glory that is lesbian oil wrestling. However I had to drag my suitcase and prop chainsaw throughout the sea of lesbians...most of them were checking me out so it was easy to maneuver by, I even had one girl stop me before i got out of the room to tell me how hot i looked.

The same thing happened to me the previous night at a show I sometimes help out with called Rivers Of Honey which is a cabaret for woman and trans of color. Lots of hotties at this show...which is mostly why I keep on coming back to help. After the amazing show had ended, I sat outside the theater in the hallways feeling a little more high than usual when all of a sudden 4 girls came up to me. One girl (who looked like the leader of the group) told me that I was a complete distraction to the entire show because of my boobs. I told her that Flattery will get her everywhere with me..because it really will.

Alas the night was not young as I had to catch that dreaded 1:20 bus once again.

A weekend full of opportunity, missed...all because of location. Which really leads me back into the subject of vibrators as I am currently dating mine. I really do love her though, we have been intimate for well over 6 years and is the longest relationship I have ever been in with a female. She knows what to do and how to do it. Our sessions usually last about an hour and sometimes we bring toys into the bedroom such as my crystal wand and my vast array of high end quality silicone butt plugs. With her, I can fit anything into my ass as she expertly works my body, I can even fist my pussy when she gets me really going. We never get into fights, are allowed to be in a open relationship, have both been tested and are clean and she doesn't want kids. It's quite perfect really.

The perfect solution to all of this would be to escape the evil trenches of NJ and move into the boroughs. However it's not that easy, although the transportation blows, I kinda like it here. I have a huge apartment, excellent air conditioning (when the power doesn't go out) clean water, HOT water, no bugs or mice or rodents of any kind and the rent JUST hit $1000 this year. Although I do not have a car and that is problematic, I think there is a part of me that will never leave here. It is my home, it is a great deal and as the saying goes "you are where you come from".

Changing your point of view can change your world...

So this past weekend (and before i went and got completely wasted every day of it) I staffed at WOW doing sound. For those of you who just thought I just used the anocrym "Whip E'm Out Wednesdays" or the ever addicting fantasy game "World Of Warcraft", you can rest assure knowing that i'm not talking about either one of them . The WOW (Women's One World) that I am affliated with is a theater that is the oldest, continuosly active working woman and trans theater in the country. It's run as an anarchy collective and people join by coming to a weekly meeting on Tuesdays and build up sweat equity so that one day they can run their own production, caberet, play etc completely on thier own without one's approval.

It's a cool concept and I have been a part of this theater for over a year now. Some members have been there for years, and many more join on a weekly basis through word of mouth. It is the extra special venue where i co-produce my monthly queer burlesque show called HyperGender Burlesque. It's a place where as an performing artist, I can thrive.

For the past three weeks, my amazing friend/producer/choreographer Ami weaved a wonderful collection of what i can only describe as poetry in motion. It was a multi-media production that married spoken word, dance, music in this incredible lithurgical arrangment. Chaos Sex Machina is the name of the production and is it truly a sensual yet incredibly moving force that really leaves you thinking afterwards. On some days it left me horny.....

After the dance portion of the show, there is an intermission followed by the "feature performer" of the evening. Magina, Our Lady Of Perpetual PMS, Lady C, Penny Pollak, Jonathan Ames, Fritz Donnelly and Courtney Weber have all lended there talents from jello wrestling matches to performance art.

and then there came the raffle....

On the first day of raffle, my true love brought to me...a vagina cast of a woman masturbating with a clit ring...

On the second day of raffle, my true love brought to me...a vagina print from artist Lady C (Abby)

I could have gone for a vibrator on the third day to complete the collection, but I think two vagina's is enough....or is it? hmmm I'm astonished that I even thought a thought like that to be honest.

The important part of what I'm writing here other than winning vagina's is that from day 2 of the raffle to day 3, I did something that I have wanted to do for the longest time. I changed my perspective. On day 2, I looked a bit something like this:

On day 3 I went from the above mentioned photo...to this

That's right folks, N here pulled a Britney Spears!

Because my look changed so drasticially, I wondered if my penchant for getting laid would as well. Would I be still considered "hot"? Would I still get hit on? Would I never be looked at again and have my life reduced to compulsive masturbation? I felt that it was important to go out and experiment to see what would happen and I decided that my best bet was to go to one of the hottest lesbian parties in Brooklyn called Choice Cunts.

I arrived past midnight and there was already a line out the door. Williamsburg is certainly a place that has no shortage of places to go party at or places of interest. I finially get in, pay my cover and head to the bar as quickly as possible. This vagina has had a rough week and was in need of drink or 5. So I drink, mingle with friends and eyed the raised platform/stage, waiting for my jack and coke to be consumed as quickly as my body can take it. Jack was definately my friend that evening.

Many girls eyed me, and i caught a few of them checking me out. I definately had an edge last night that I have never experienced before. All my friends who popped in an out throughout the night kept on saying that i looked "Fierce", which in lesbian terminology...is like a version of hot only reserved for a select few. My experiment was getting off to great start.

I noticed that my abilities to woo the same sex had not changed, but that they angle of which I was perceived did. More people had the freedom in their minds to touch my head, therefore adding an element of touch more prevelant into my flirting ways and into my life in general. Even while dancing (very dirty with some girls) later on, they would come, dance by me and touch me, much more than they would when I had pink hair. Now one could say that maybe they didn't want to touch my hair because they didn't was pink stains of their hands, and I wouldn't argue that, but shaved heads, especially when they look good on the person, adds a whole new element. People look at you differently, they see you as someone who has balls and does what they want regardless of what we are told we should look like. They see someone who is fun, free-spirted, and sexy. It is a double standard that a man shaving his head is more acceptable in society than a woman doing it....and I kinda like that...one huge slap in the face to society...one step for my pussy to soar.

Congratulations! You're A Certified Sex Addict!

I recently came across an article written by Rachel Kramer Bussel, writer of many amazing books, editor, and producer of In The Flesh Erotica Reading Series held every 3rd Thursday's at Happy Endings over on Broome Street. She is also a noted cupcake lover as well.

I met her briefly in a most unusual way when the two of us participated at Babeland's Masturbate-A-Thon several years back that way filmed for HBO's Real Sex. Our segment is currently on Real Sex 32: Some Like It Hot and it is well....quite hot to say the least.

I say briefly because the participants that day were mostly concerned with...themselves to be honest, so i really didn't bond with anyone to say the least, however i met several participants years later through burlesque and other artistic related events. It was a strange 6 degree's of NYC separation, and throughout the years I have loosely followed her work and have seen her pop up everywhere in NYC, even gracing my burlesque show back in April.

The article in question that she wrote centered around sex addiction and it's use as a scapegoat and target. It went on to dispute a sex addiction test aptly titled Sexhelp.com Sex Addiction Screening Test (SAST)

According to her article and citing a quote from the site the test was "[d]eveloped in cooperation with hospitals, treatment programs, private therapists, and community groups, the SAST provides a profile of responses which help to discriminate between addictive and non-addictive behavior."

I decided to take this test and to see for myself if I according to programs, community groups and well-paid therapists am i fact a sex addict.

After typing in the url http://www.sexhelp.com/sast.cfm. I am immediately taken to a page with 45 questions. Before you can actually begin the test, you have to answer a few questions such as gender and sexual orientation. I am immediately thrown off by the orientation question since I really do not see the relevance but i click "Homosexual" and proceed. The questions range from topics such as participation in BDSM to purchasing magazines or visiting sex clubs. Sadly I plea guilty to all. Other than not having sex with minors and engaging is risky non-safe-sex behaiviors, i pretty much answered yes to all the questions.

When I clicked the Submit button, I was taken to another page with my scores and a chart.

My chart said the following:




Yes you have heard right! I am a certified Sex Addict scoring 14 out of 20! I was quite disappointed that there were no confetti thrown out or fanfare but I am still waiting for my watch!

After giggling like a schoolgirl at my amusement. I realized I could handle this information two ways 1) Realize that I have a problem and consult a 12 step spiritual program or 2) Laugh, Laugh, Laugh!

I really don't see the point is saying that I am a sex addict because I enjoy masturbating to porn and engage in sadomasochistic fun. Going to sex clubs, divulging in hot public sex are parts of my sexuality that I like to explore in a safe environment. Yeah sure i have fucked in clubs, cabs and LGTB centers, but they were hot, consensual and safe. Being a sexual person in CHARGE of my sexuality doesn't mean that there is a problem and at the end of the day, that is what irks me the most. Because I am sexually independent and GASP gay, there must be a problem with me that has to be treated via religious propaganda disguised as "treatment" programs.

So here is to my new found "addiction"! Let the porn stay, let the vibrators be turned on to the highest level, let the butt plugs be lubed and let me enjoy my sexuality!


---------------------------------

Original Article can be found here"
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/rachel-kramer-bussel/am-i-a-sex-addict-are-yo_b_73768.html
Huffington Post, November 28, 2007