Who Knew a Male Sex Doll Could Make a Good Hamburger?

Too bad blind dates don’t come to your door, delivered like something great you sent yourself from Amazon. Online shopping, something I didn’t think I would become addicted to, was my retail therapy. Other than having your treasure arrive like a present, the best thing about it is still the window shopping. I do like getting a bargain but the chase, the planning, the research and then the discovery of that one, just right, exceptional item!

I wasn’t a fool though. I knew who paid that credit card each month. Me. I could be careful and still buy stuff. The trick was to make sure it really was something I really did need. Most of the time I was successful that way. Books, print books, tended to be my downfall.

A good book is a good companion. Like that blind date but, in this case, he can hold up his end of the conversation. Of course, only my lips were moving.

Until… I had a blind date. Another one. My sister set it up. It wasn’t my worst date but it did get weird when he began talking about his life sized sex doll. Not a blow up doll. A fully functional robot. (I admit, I didn’t ask for details about what fully functional meant). I encouraged him to talk about how he dresses her up, poses her for photographs and other things. At least I wasn’t left carrying the conversation. As time went on he got so excited to tell me all about his sex doll, I just had to smile and nod until the end of the date.

He gave me a little obligatory kiss and a business card before hurrying away home.

I thought he had given me his own business card but it wasn’t. I had one of those soft snort laughs when I read it. But, I did keep it. I don’t think I had any thought about using it, not then. Still, you never know all the little thoughts lingering in the back of your mind.

A few weeks later, another blind date, and a delivery from Amazon at my door. An ok blind date, but I never saw him again.

I’d never had a delivery come in a wooden crate before. Even a solid, metal library cart had come in just a bigger cardboard box. Shipping was crazy expensive. I’d debated clicking the final OK even while I tempted myself with all the possibilities and convinced myself this was something I needed.

As I watched the crate, almost expecting something to happen, I had a minor panic attack. That fluttery feeling in my chest, flashes of cold and warm, and damp palms. So, I didn’t open the crate. Like a lottery ticket, all good and hopeful until you check it. Weeks went by that way. I got used to the big wooden crate I had to walk around in the middle of the hallway. I liked it that way, safe but full of potential I could, someday, choose to open.

Who knows how long it would have gone on like that? I’d nearly paid off my credit card. I’d come up with an explanation friends and family seemed to accept for the crate being there. I even had two more blind dates. No more online shopping though, my budget was blown.

It happened on a Tuesday, a fairly random day. I unlocked my door, locked it behind me, dragged in a couple of bags of groceries and put my purse down at the door. A naked man was sitting on my sofa, watching me.

I froze in stunned indecision. He smiled. A nice smile, nothing dangerous or challenging. I think it was even friendly and hopeful.

I could skip a lot of typing and just tell you it was the robot from the crate and that we ended up in bed, on the floor and out on the balcony, in some order or other. But, it didn’t happen that way. For one thing, I’m not a porn star.

He introduced himself but explained he didn’t have a name until I picked one for him. He didn’t come with any clothes either. Then he asked me why I’d left him in the crate so long.

I was still stunned. We looked at each other for some unknown amount of time. Now I know he was waiting for instructions. Having just an ordinary human sort of brain I needed longer to adapt to sudden change and put things together.

I heard a click, he unplugged himself from the wall, stood up (modestly covering himself in front) and carefully reached around my still frozen self, for the groceries I had entirely forgotten. With the bags on the kitchen counter he started putting things away, figuring out where they should go without asking me.

He had a tea towel wrapped around his middle while he made dinner, hamburgers. I think the smell of meat cooking brought me out of the deep freeze. I like to think it was a predator kind of thing. But, I’m probably kidding myself.

He took my coat, hung it in the hall closet. Putting my hand on his arm, like a proper gentleman, or a butler, he led me to the table, pulled out my chair and pushed it in again when I sat down. Then he set the table for dinner, one place setting.

Who knew a machine, a robot, an android, a male sex doll could make a good hamburger?

After a quiet dinner he cleaned everything up himself. This was the most unusual blind date I’d ever had.

He talked while he worked. Told me about himself. Other than being the youngest blind date I’ve ever had, it turned into the best blind date I’d ever had – and the last. We talked all night. We had so much to talk about! Not just sorting out who he was, how things work and all that. But, he knew about so many things which also interest me. Part of the programming, but he had opinions and different ways of looking at things and pulling ideas together. It aroused me.

I kept him in just the tea towel, sat close beside him and gave into curiousity. He felt very human, nicely firm and warm too. We set his features: hair colour, facial hair, tone of voice, and so on. He became sexier and sexier, especially once we had that voice just right. I could feel the deepness of his voice rumble through me. Then he whispered some sweet nothings, knowing his voice was melting me from the inside.

I wanted his touch so I put his hands under my sweater, over my bra. He told me how much he liked my boobs, how long he had been waiting to touch me when he could only watch through a few tiny gaps in the packing crate. He said his emergency battery had finally run low the other night when I had come out of the shower, nude. I’d gotten a towel fresh from the laundry basket and stayed there, drying off, applying lotion, where he could see me. But, he couldn’t do anything. They aren’t allowed to unpack themselves from the crate in any but extreme circumstances.

He asked to undress me and I said, “yes”.

I felt worshipped as he took his time, revealing me like a special delivery from Amazon. Soft kisses, warm strokes and barely there touches in appreciation for every new part of me exposed. Warm breath and nibbles over sensitive skin, my skin and his skin as we exchanged caresses.

The tea towel had fallen somewhere, his cock hard, and just the length, width and shape I’d ordered. I wrapped my hand around his cock and held it firmly, taking possession. His gasp, shudders and squirming excited me. I slipped his fingers into my pussy, spreading around the wetness there. He moved to slip his fingers in deeper and I let him. Perfect male hands with fingers just long enough to feel wonderful pushing inside of me. I encouraged him to slip three fingers in and stroke my pussy, in and out with a little twist of his wrist for extra hotness.

Three big fingers swirling inside my pussy, his thumb teasing my clit while he sucked and teased my breasts, belly and thighs with his other hand and his mouth. I wanted it. I wanted him. I was ready to take what I wanted.

“I want your cock inside of me now, boy”. For a few seconds I missed his fingers in me and all over me but then the tip of his cock was dipping into my hot, wet pussy. There, he waited, for permission to slide inside. His cock, so firm, straining to push into my welcoming pussy, trembling with excitement but staying just between my pussy lips. He was mine to take so I did. I rode his cock, felt it slip inside, pushing into me and making room for the generous width of his cock. I did it my way, slow and deep and then a little twist while holding his cock so deeply inside my pussy I could feel the hum and vibrations of his machinery as his cock filled me. My orgasm came like tidal waves crashing in and then winding down to happy little ripples.

He stroked my back and kept his cock inside me until the last few ripples. I sat up, astride him on the floor and enjoyed looking at him. His cock still firmly inside me, but I was satisfied and just wanted to see him still hard and needy. I moved up and knelt over him, letting him see my pussy, smell it too. He put his hand up, covering my pussy with one finger slipping between the outer lips. I moved and stood up, leaving him hoping for more.

“You can wash me in the shower and then we’re going to bed. In the morning I’m going to open that chest of toys included in the crate.”

“I think I’m still a virgin. Am I? I really was looking forward to sex. Is it really sex if you only allow me to penetrate you?” He asked.

“I don’t know. But, it will be amusing to keep you as a virgin for awhile.”

“How long? Don’t you want to make sure everything works, as ordered?”

I admired his tall, nicely muscular body and his still twitchy, hard cock as he stood up. “Looks like it works for me.” I laughed, pretty happy with this expensive present I had sent myself from Amazon.

 

Freshly posted to Novel Trove tonight.

Dogs, Ponies… Why not Chicken Play?

Why are dogs and horses popular as play animals and not birds? Chickens in particular.

I’d have a lot of fun with a little man dressed in a chicken mask. I’m less fond of pigeons but that would work too.

Once you got him into the chicken mask, consider white wings too. Likely you could find some white angel wings at a costume shop. But, adding floppy chicken feet would be a great extra – if you can find them. Still, start with the mask.

Keep in mind, the mask is likely to get hot. So give your chicken boy plenty of water to peck at.

Source: Chicken Head Mask Part Halloween Costume Theater Prop Novelty Latex Rubber Animal Head Mask Cockscomb from Lmon1986,$16.12 | DHgate.com

A Threatening Paperweight

Domme's paperweightCan you picture this… your boy notices you’ve got a new paperweight on your desk. It comes with three different sets of screws: dull(ish), sharp as well as long and sharp.

I don’t really need a paperweight, of course. I just like the threat of impending CBT (cock and ball torture, or teasing if he was only sort of a bad boy).

via – JT’s Stockroom – Mike‘s Spikes (R).

Animal Versus Human Nudity

Why is it ok for a dog to display it’s genitals but a human male in the same pose would be labeled as adult content, pornographic, shocking, disgusting, etc.? The image below was on Buzzfeed, a post about taking naps.

animal and human nudity

Not a sexual topic, not even about animals especially. It was just an image they used to illustrate taking a nap. The dog’s cock and balls are plainly visible, not blacked out or otherwise edited out. No warning about nudity for under age readers on the site. Weird really isn’t it?

I don’t think the photo was sexual or should have been edited out. The comparison just interests me. If a nude adult human male were posed the same way… it never would have been used, at all. Why is animal nudity ok but human nudity shocks us?

Seven or Better?

From Maxim: Check Out The Dating Website For Women Who Only Care About Big Dongs

To become a member (hee hee, MEMBER!), you need to do a few things. First and foremost, get out your ruler and measure your package. Are you at least 7 inches? Great, you’re in. You’re six and three-quarters inches? NOT BIG ENOUGH. You will be relegated to the tiny ween dating site called Match.com.

Sounds more like it’s a site for men to talk about how great their big dicks are. I don’t know any women who actually want a big cock. No matter what popular culture happens to believe, there is only so much that will fit inside a woman’s vagina. This big cock site is more likely for men and online dating for gay men.

Retro Internet: The 1500 Point Purity Test

Long ago, in the days of the Internet surfing highway, there was a purity test with over 1000 questions. I found a copy of it. Posted for your viewing (or take the test) pleasure.

THE UNISEX PURITY TEST

If you thought the millenial purity test was bad, well you ain’t see
nuttin’ yet!

This is the 1500 point Purity Test!

We felt that the 1000 point version lost a lot of the “fun” of the
earlier versions, so we re-wrote it, adding a few new sections, and
a shitload of questions. This test is guaranteed to be nosier that
your parents, more invasive than the census, and containing something
to offend everybody.

Also included is an answer form so that you can remember where in the
test you were, or show to a friend.

Continue reading Retro Internet: The 1500 Point Purity Test

Pushing It

Originally posted to Sex Kitten (2003 – 2004)

The fine print in the instructions had said “Never push the red button.” …But, always, there was the red button and finally, in spite of whatever the consequences were, she just knew she had to push it.

The fine print in the instructions had said “Never push the red button.” It had been there from day one, she noticed it while she was unwrapping her new toy. The instructions had fallen out as she unwrapped it from the bubble wrap. She had left them on the floor until she had her fill of playing and then tidied up all the packaging. She’d kept the instructions, somewhere. She hadn’t actually read them but they were around if she needed them, somewhere.

But, always, there was the red button and finally, in spite of whatever the consequences were, she just knew she had to push it.

What could happen, really? Her love toy was in off mode, lying on his/ it’s back on the rug by her bed. The red button was tiny, located under his left ear lobe. To push it she would need a needle from her sewing box. She had come prepared. At first nothing happened. Well, he/ it was in off mode. Maybe it only activated if the toy was on at the time. She watched awhile longer but got bored and felt sleepy and mildly disappointed in the lack of drama.

She had a great dream. Better than the dream of having sex with a dragon in mid-flight. This time her toy woke up, really woke up not just powered up as he/ it usually did. He stripped off his veneer of animation and became real. She felt his breath on her skin, as if he were really breathing rather than functioning to please her. She could smell his sweat and his passion, as if he were really aroused. She half opened her eyes as his fingers played with her pussy, stroking the lips and folds. She really, fully opened her eyes as his cock slid inside of her. It was such a great cock, the exact thickness of her specifications. The exact shape, length and fullness she had always needed from a man but never found.

The odd thing was, she was sure she was awake now and yet the dream continued. He was on top of her, riding her, caressing her inner thighs, sucking her breasts, nibbling her skin. Of course, it wasn’t possible. He was only a love toy, bought at her local department store for the off season sale price of just $199.

She ran her fingers through his hair, grabbing a hunk and pulling it hard. He only grinned shamelessly and bit down on her nipple. It hurt but felt good too. He opened his thighs, forcing her own legs to open wider and rise up along his warm thighs to wrap around his waist. His cock felt so good, pumping inside of her. His lips, tongue and hands took their fill of her body, teasing her, making her need more and more. Her pussy ached to orgasm. It was a great dream, but it could only be a dream.

When he grunted and orgasmed inside of her she really woke up. This could not be a dream. He wasn’t supposed to orgasm without her permission and he certainly wasn’t supposed to orgasm before she had her own pleasure.

His hard body fell over her, trapping her underneath his firm, warm flesh. His hot breath warmed the side of her neck while his cock softened, still inside her. “You pushed the red button didn’t you?” He laughed.

She said nothing. What do you say to a toy come to life?

“I’m so glad you did.” He levered himself up, reached into her bedside drawer and pulled out her favourite handcuffs. “You might regret it but I never will.”

Flirtation, Seduction and Foreplay

Originally posted to Sex Kitten (2003 – 2004)

Sometimes BDSM is boring.

When you listen to yet another guy listing his fetishes, his turn ons, his kinky requirements, like a grocery list you will be expected to perform. When you read yet another erotica story starring the poor helpless man or the man who fucks everything and has a miracle magic cock that every female wants. When you read another discussion about the finer points of BDSM and the points become so refined they have lost any sharpness they may have had.

Sometimes people just think an idea to death. That’s what BDSM is, an idea. It’s not a religion, it’s just foreplay which requires a little education. It is not about pain. If you bring that idea to it then that’s what you have brought to it. It’s up to you to wonder why and decide how you want to explore that fetish.

If you explore BDSM you will discover many ideas, attitudes and philosophies. Tell them all to bite you, most of them will like that. Go with what you want and make it how you want it. BDSM is not a religion, it should actually be something more enjoyable than religion. BDSM is for pleasure, that’s all. The only rules are geared to keeping it a pleasure for both (all) involved. Religion is far more complicated than BDSM should ever be.

Some people have the attitude that anyone not involved in a 24/ 7 (round the clock, permanent) BDSM relationship is not really in the scene. Smile kindly at these people and go about enjoying your life, as you were. Would you really and truly want this to be your lifestyle, every day, year after year? Would you not at some point like a day off? Lifestyle BDSM is unrealistic.

One big myth about BDSM is that it has to involve pain. Anyone who believes that has not really examined the concept. Even the initials prove how false this idea is. Bondage and Discipline, Domination and Submission, Sadism and Masochism: do you see pain written all over that? Bondage is about being restrained, tied up, etc. Discipline is often something along the lines of spanking. Domination is about being the dominant partner or being the dominated partner, the submissive. Then there are the Switches who dominate or are dominated, as it suits them. S and M are only the tail end.

No one should hop into BDSM without some idea of what they are getting into. Take it as any other hobby, learn how to make it work, what tools (if any) you require. Make sure your partner is at least interested, if not eager. Think of the whole thing as foreplay, flirtation and seduction. If you want to add pain, bondage, or domination explore those elements.

I’ve been into BDSM since I was a kid. A lot of people will say that. I think it sounds odd. But, for me I know what I was doing and I can only wonder and image what someone else was thinking or doing. I was reading my Dad’s science fiction books and I was daring myself to look at pictures of naked men in the magazine racks at stores. I didn’t buy them, not till much later when I was 16. Naked men made me blush and yet, I really didn’t see the attraction of the male body, or parts of it. The penis looked dorky, it still does. Reading the term penis envy still makes me think men are must be pretty insecure if not unbalanced. Who would envy that? Breast envy would be more likely.

Young Cock Versus Old Stud

Originally posted to Sex Kitten (2003 – 2004)

Better an old man’s darling or a young man’s slave?

I can understand how age difference works for some couples. One partner is established, mature while the other likes having someone to depend on, mentor them. One partner feels buoyed up by the youth and enthusiasm of the other. There are various scenarios, as many as there are people.

I don’t think a big age difference is for me. I’d like to have more in common for one thing. Life experiences, stage of life, thoughts, ideas, habits, taste in music, all are important things. I don’t want a younger man who I’d feel I’d have to keep up with or an older man who I’d feel I couldn’t catch up to.

Although I’d like some aspects of being with an older man, having that security, maturity and understanding from someone who has been there. There is emotional and financial stability which I have not had in my life so far. Still, I’d rather have a balance – an even playing field where we both want the same things at the same time.

I don’t want to rely too heavily or get to the point where I depend on someone to be there. That makes me less than I can be and takes away from some of the strength and independence I have developed for myself. Also, it puts a heavy load on the other person and no matter what someone may say at the time, no one really wants to be responsible for the happiness of another. We do not want to micro-manage another human being. We do not want to be leaned on too much. So, no one should look for someone in their life just to have someone they can lean on. There should be a lot more to create a couple, a relationship that will build and become something both partners can get something out of .

As for the younger guys, I am the oldest of four kids. I don’t really see myself taking another younger ‘brother’ seriously as a partner in life. Yes, I can listen to their ideas, consider them as adults, but I can’t see them as my equal, not really. It’s not that I am looking down on them, it’s just their date of birth. When someone says they were born in the 80’s I remember what I was doing then. I had quit high school and was working full time, keeping up my share of the rent on an apartment. Meanwhile, someone was changing their diaper. How can you really see that as a person you would take into the bedroom and make mad passionate love to? It makes me feel like a cradle robber or some old perverted woman.

When I turn it around and wonder what a younger man would look for in an older woman I think most are looking for someone to give them a security and mothering base or feeling. I don’t want to be that woman for the man I love. I don’t want to be a second mother or a cash cow. I want him to be madly in lust with me and laugh at all my jokes and want to spend time with me, until death. An older guy is likely thinking he will have more sex. Yet, the men I’ve met (mostly older) haven’t wanted sex as often as I have myself. So, I don’t see it working out, either way. On one side I am a second mother and the other I am a sex toy. Neither is allowing me to be a woman or giving me that companionship I am looking for with another human being.

Mainly, its about the stage of life I’m at. I don’t want to skip ahead to retirement or backtrack to beginning to find my place in the world. I want some one to share life with – where I’m at now.