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Reviewing Reviews

In days long ago, I used to do vibrator reviews.

That might seem odd, me being a man and all, but I had a perspective: I wrote vibrator reviews from the perspective of a man who used vibrators to make ladies very, very, very, very happy. I wrote as someone who used them not on himself, but to, well, spread the love.

And what I liked and disliked is different, in ways subtle and not subtle, from the likes and dislikes of those women with more direct experience of the vibrator itself. I saw things from a different angle, very literally an also figuratively.

On a directly mechanical level, I can see what I am doing, and I have literal, physical angles available to me that are less available to women using them on themselves. This makes many things possible to me that are difficult for someone pleasing themselves.

And, though I do not experience the feeling of the vibrator directly, as the woman in question does, that can be an advantage. I can draw out and delay climax in a way that, for some partners, was difficult for them to do for themselves.

I could go on. And I will, which is why I am writing this.

I used to write vibrator reviews. I had opinions. I have a favorite! I have probably owned more than twenty vibrators in my life. I own seven currently (there is a reason for that). Different ones are excellent for different things. And they are useful at different times.

At present, there is no "test subject" in my life, so I can't review recent acquisitions. But I have old favorites, and the reviews of them are no longer anywhere that I can access them, so I will write some reviews of those.

I don't know if anyone else is giving voice to this perspective, but I feel like talking about what I know. So expect a word or two on the topic in the coming days.

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Fan Favorites

Water and Air

I am a creature of the sea. The water is my home, I in it, it in me. I am enveloped by it and I drink it in, nourished, filled with life, in happy union. I am a creature of the air. I fly above the blue water, sunlight bright on my skin. Bright dot against the sky. I dance, with you. I see you are a shining fish like me, come up from oceans different, yet much the same. We will each, in our time, seek sea's embrace again, then rise, and fly together, in the warm air.

Fresh Every Day

Before the great Bryce Lloyd fire of '15 (not an actual fire), on the ancient version of this blog, I wrote an essay. I wrote many actually, and many were lost in the (not literal) fire. Two of these were such that keenly feel their loss, and I remember them with fondness, and also sadness. What follows is an effort to recapture one of these again here, because I feel as if it had an enduring value, at least to me. We shall see about that. When I was first married, I was drawn to symbols of permanence: gold rings, diamonds (which are not really forever) and things, in general, that seemed an unchanging touchstone that could represent the eternal. These symbols, perhaps, were manifestations of my insecurity, but they also embodied an ideal: they were physical representations of a lasting love that could, and would, survive the years. I think that it is an image and an idea that society presents and we consume, unthinkingly, but it also did resonate with my own image and unde

On The Couch

Kids at a friends. I come home, and there you are, on the couch. Barefoot. Flannel shirt. Jeans. Drop my bag and I'm on you. Buttons fly everywhere. My hands all over. Reach in your pants. No panties! Rubbing your pussy. Faster. Don't cum yet. I push my cock in. Fucking until we can't move.