Being a veteran sex toy blogger is a pretty sweet deal sometimes. I get to live to see most of my enemies disappear into the ether; I’m around as technologically-advanced sex toys become commonplace; and I’m still here when long-discontinued favorites are reborn. It’s the ciiiiiircle of liiiiiiife. Today, what’s old is new again. Two textured dildos that have been out of production for years, the Whipspider Rubberworks Jellyfish and Tantus Splash, have risen from the dead — and my vagina is throwing a freaking all-night rager. For real. Bring your best La Croix and we can mix it into my wine. I’d forgotten just how much I loved these silly little chunks of silicone. But in trying the modern-day . . . read more

Why wouldn’t you want this smug bastard smiling at you while you masturbate? He looks like the kind of guy who works in sales. Or no, tech. But he’s a team-building captain or some bullshit, so he thinks he’s above everyone else — they’re all nerdy losers. Used to wear baseball hats religiously, but ditched them in his thirties in favor of hair gel. Wears his suit jacket from work to the party, where he gets riled up about separating the art from the artist and gesticulates so hard he nearly spills his craft beer. His laugh is the kind that pierces the air suddenly, startling everyone in the room. He refers to sex as “getting tail.” Unironically. Oh wait, . . . read more

When I was but a wee sex toy reviewer, every new sex toy material was a treat. Not yet jaded by years of masturbatory ordeals, my vag was wowed by the smoothness of glass, the heft of stainless steel, the beauty of wood, the silkiness of silicone. Then I experienced luscious dual-density silicone, a true turning point. I quickly crowned it my favorite soft material and proceeded to stuff myself silly with dildos made out of it. That was 8 years ago, that glorious time of squishy exploration, so now I tend to take such materials for granted. It can be hard to get back into that head (vagina?) space again, but then there are toys that take me there, . . . read more

I should start with an apology, because when this line of sex toys came out, I mocked it. “Hahahahaha Doc Johnson acting like they invented silicone,” I tweeted derisively. But what I didn’t realize is that these aren’t garden-variety silicone toys — they’re made of squishy dual-density silicone, and I am so on board with more affordable dual-density dildos. (“TruSkyn,” though? Still ludicrous. Good lord, when will misspelling words become uncool again?) So, I must eat my hat. I’m sorry for preemptively ridiculing TruSkyn. While I do think it’s amusing to watch bigwig sex toy manufacturers “discover” body-safe materials 500 years behind everybody else, it can only be a good thing for consumers. Dual-density silicone has been the domain of indie . . . read more

Four years ago, my G-spot was forever changed by a revolutionary sex toy called the Stronic Eins. Not really a dildo and definitely not a vibrator, the Eins features an internal weight that facilitates a back-and-forth thrusting movement. This “pulsator” felt unlike anything I’d ever tried, wiggling against my G-spot so enthusiastically, and quickly became one of my favorite insertables. Fun Factory’s Stronic line proved that innovation is still possible in the sex toy industry — true innovation, not gimmicky and spurious “innovation” with air quotes. So a few weeks ago when an email popped up with the subject line CONFIDENTIAL: Secret Preview of New Stronic?, it set my heart fluttering. I was in the middle of writing a different email, but I immediately . . . read more

“Everything’s temporary if you give it enough time.” —Jewel Last week, I learned that Fucking Sculptures is closing up shop. It seems like just yesterday they popped into existence, delighting me with their jaw-dropping, hand-blown glass dildos and unabashedly straightforward company name. Their G-Spoon was lauded as a serious A-spotter, the beastly Double Trouble revered by size queens. They donated dildos to my giveaways. My girlfriend visited their studio. Now… they’re gone. After four and half years producing gorgeous toys, their website has been reduced to a vague goodbye message, and we’re left to scramble to scoop up the last of their inventory at retail shops. It all seems creepily familiar. As a lifer in the adult industry, I watch companies come and go . . . read more

Dildo Diaries (2002) and the Downunder Toys Hot Banana Rod. Buying a sex toy is a snap these days. Simply type “adult shop” into your Yelp app, or enter the product name into Google, and in mere seconds you can find a place to purchase the dildo or vibrator of your desires. We take this for granted. I take it for granted. But as recently as 9 years ago, it wasn’t that easy — especially in the South. Dildo Diaries (2002) is a documentary chronicling the absurdity of Texas’ anti-sex toy legislation. Directed by Laura Barton and Judy Wilder, it’s a joyous defense of our right to purchase and use sex toys. It’s also an invaluable historical artifact, a reminder that in . . . read more

Feeldoe More, Realdoe Stout, ShareVibe, Tango. I’ve never thought strapless strap-on dildos were the second coming of Christ. Let’s start there. I have my Joque harness, I have well-loved strap-on dildos, and I am comfortable combining those things and fucking someone silly. I’ve never felt like strap-on sex wasn’t “intimate” enough, or like I needed extra genital stimulation in order to enjoy it. For me, the pleasure comes from wielding a cock, achieving ideal positioning and thrusting, and watching myself plunge into the depths of an orifice. (I love labia, all labia, labia forever — so I will take literally any chance to ogle them.) Strapless strap-on dildos attempt to eliminate the harness aspect altogether. These double-ended toys have a bulb . . . read more

I squirt every time I use the New York Toy Collective Carter. Movement or not. No matter the external vibe. Whatever my mood. If clitoral stimulation makes me come while the Carter is inside me, I gush. I’ll be just hanging out, about to have a completely ordinary orgasm or so it seems, when I feel the pressure building, urging me to slide the dildo out. Sure enough: an expulsion of fluid follows. It hardly ever feels like I’ve earned it, yet it happens, consistently as the sun rising and setting each day. Sneak-attack squirting. And oh, with movement? With actual thrusting? Then I’m ejaculating even more, soaking through the towel on my desk chair. Carter is a meaty dude. . . . read more