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Sex Toys
1 — Tranny Terri Love Doll $300
If you drink the greatest glass of wine you’ve ever tasted only to be told it was piss, does that diminish how much you enjoyed it? If the great love of your life goes on to be a serial killer after you break up, do the feelings you had for this person change? I’m of the opinion that if something is THE BEST then it’s THE BEST, and that’s that. Nothing should be able to taint those emotions. But not everyone feels the same.
Many moons ago, I was in Rio de Janeiro, where the local economy depends almost entirely on the exploitation of its most abundant natural resource: young, gorgeous women. In the time I spent down there, I was approached by the sexiest, most exotic girls, everywhere from liquor stores to pharmacies to bakeries to the beaches of Ipanema, all trying to offer me their body for the low discount price of $100 for four hours — as if I know what to do with a woman for four hours. I tried negotiating $6.25 for 15 minutes, but they weren’t really interested.
One nightclub called Help was actually a meat rack of whores (I learned this shortly after having my nuts fondled by several girls in the first minutes of being there). I said to my local tour guide, “Man, these are some friendly girls. They really like Americans.” “They’re all whores, dipshit,” was his response. And they didn't take kindly to non-paying customers. I was cursed and spit at and even called a faggot for refusing to fuck any of them. I tried to explain that I was already drunk and staying drunk was far more important to me than getting laid, but I think something was lost in the translation.
After I was thrown out of the club, the tour guide and I drove along the beach. I saw a tall, slender girl with her shirt off, flailing her large, fake tits in all directions, trying to flag someone down to take her home. In some strange fit of horniness, I asked my driver to let me out of the car. The drunk side of my brain was in control — $100 for four hours of unbridled, unsafe sex seemed like a good deal at the time.
As the car came to a halt and the seabirds squawked high in the night sky, I asked my man if it was common for street hookers to stand on the corners topless. “No,” he said. “Only the men do it. Get close enough and you’ll realize there are only trannies working the streets. That’s why everyone goes to the clubs.” Ah. I opted to call it a night.
A few hours later, the fellow I was sharing my hotel room with walked in grinning from ear to ear. He told me he’d paid a topless street hooker to give him a blowjob on the beach and it was, without a doubt, THE BEST blowjob he’d ever had. I said, “That’s wonderful,” and I congratulated him. I had trouble sleeping that night because of how his smile kept the room illuminated.
The next morning, our tour guide bluntly told my roommate he’d gotten his dick sucked by a transsexual. He went green in the gills, vomited, threw his beer down, and stormed off. I stopped him and asked, “Did you not say it was THE BEST blowjob of your life?” He stared through me. “You’re ashamed of the best blowjob of your life? WHY? Because society frowns upon it? Fuck that! THE BEST IS THE BEST! The best cannot be bad. Under any circumstances.”
He shook loose of my hands, hopped in a cab to the airport, and took the next flight stateside, never to be heard from again.
I have to believe a man (or former man) gives a superior blowjob simply because of their inherent understanding of the equipment. Simply put, they know what boys like. This Tranny Terri Love Doll has no mouth, so I can’t vouch for its blowjob skills, but my wife had a good ol’ time smacking its tits around and riding the dong while I sodomized it. I’m not going to say it’s THE BEST (because I prefer human buttholes over synthetic ones), but I have no regrets about our threesome. I’m actually quite excited to see her again… .
Rating: 11 extremerestraints.com
2 — Jizz Cum-Scented Lube/Pussy Juice Vagina-Scented Lube $18/$14
My wife often gets frustrated that I refuse to wash my face after enjoying a box lunch at the Y. Her concern is that everyone will be able to smell her pussy on my mustache. “We’ve been together 16 years,” I tell her repeatedly. “By this point you must know I don’t care about anyone but myself. And I love smelling you all day long. I even do this to be able to get a better whiff,” and with that I push hard on the tip of my nose, smooshing my nostrils open, sending her intoxicants straight to my olfactory bulb.
I love the smell of pussy so much that I began using this Pussy Juice as aftershave. But that wasn’t good enough for me. I spent the entire summer using it to lube up my body for the beach, like Cosmo Kramer with butter. At last count, I’ve burned through 36 of these 8.5-ounce bottles (they really should make it in 55-gallon drums). I have yet to test it in a sexual scenario, but if the way my beer continuously slides out of my hand is any indication of how good it works, this may very well be the champagne of bottled lubes. (Full disclosure: I don’t have the same feelings about Jizz. My wife, on the other hand, was so convinced by the smell that she drank the entire bottle in one swig. Now I’m concerned that perhaps I’m not fulfilling her needs after having a vasectomy.)
Rating: 10 extremerestraints.com
