Aural Eroticsm and the Art of Overtaking

Today (I thought. I was wrong, it's this Sunday) was the Turkish Formula One Grand Prix. Since it wasn't being broadcast anywhere, I got my fix from watching some clips of old races: China '06. Schumacher's coming in to pass Alonso. The commentary: Make it stick, son. That's it, that's where you want to be. Take it. Take it!

I used to be a pretty quiet masturbator. Besides the usual heavy breathing and the stifled moan, I tended to keep the grunt level to a minimum and the commentary to myself. Lately, I've noticed I've been making a lot more noise. Making noise makes me come harder, better, stronger... faster! I shove my face into the pillow for the scream and let the filthy talk fly: fucking tear that pussy up, fill me up, fuck me, rape me, suck that clit... okay, not very original, but it does the trick. Sometimes I switch the point of view: open that ass up you fucking cunt. That's it, that's a good girl. Take it. Take it!

Formula One is fucking sexy. Maybe it's the power, the precision or the completely phallic nature of the cars. When they hit the high speeds on the long stretches, it's like the slow rise to orgasm. They slow down just a little for the curve and I ease up to make it last just a little longer, until I'm going full speed for the final lap. The checkered flag comes down and the champagne starts spraying.

stripping and irony

Part two of my friends going away celebration was last night. It started off at the usual after-work watering hole, but since it's been over two years since I worked at this company, the people have changed and I found myself once again around a bunch of people I don't know. But B. was there and while the beginning of the evening might have been a bit dull, the second part turned out much better with a trip to The Pussycat Lounge.

B and I made ourselves comfortable at the bar and found ourselves in front of the coolest girl in the place: a cute little thing, with short cropped black hair and an awesome scarification of a spider web between her tiny tits. She had a slim, tight little body, an entirely edible ass and a wicked smile. The rest of the gang did their best not to look at the gyrating, half-naked bodies and clustered together chatting. I just think that's rude, honestly. I mean, these girls are up there showing there stuff trying to make some money here. The very least you can do is watch for a while, smile and hand them some bills! Stop being such fucking tourists!

It reminds me of a conversation I had with my cousin. She's a pilot and I asked her if the flight attendants care that no one pays any attention to them while they're doing the safety presentation. "Yes!" she said passionately. "It really bothers them!" So now, I make a point to put down my magazine and watch the demo, even though I've seen the routine a million times and know it by heart.

The girls in our group clutched their drinks and tried not to look as desperately uncomfortable as they were, the guys looked guilty. Meanwhile, B. and I were slowly draining our wallets, dollar bill by dollar bill. She came over to us and hung out for a while during her break. Mission accomplished! We chatted for a while about this and that, about the club, the other girls there and living in NYC. She was sweet and smart and charming and had us both wrapped firmly around her finger.

After a while, I said "I don't want to keep you from work." I noticed an older business man flirting with her.

"That's okay." she said, scooting closer to us. "I'd rather hang out with you cool guys." Of course, I bought her a drink. I'm a sucker, I know. I can't help it.

B. and I were the last of the group to leave. He hopped in a cab and I wandered around Wall Street trying to find an open subway entrance. The sidewalks were deserted and wet with rain. I thought of the fuck buddy I used to have who lived down there and the nights when I would get lost in the twisting streets trying to find his apartment in the brick and granite forest, my underwear wet with anticipation, my clit aching, my heart beating fast with excitement. I remembered the early mornings when I would stumble out into the street with the first batch of business people just starting their day. I would shuffle to the subway blissfully exhausted, my hair a wreck, mascara smeared, my body aching and come on my breath.

I stumbled into bed insanely horny. I haven't seen Ben in over a week and I'm having the weirdest period ever. I grabbed my handy dandy utility vibe for a quickie to help me sleep, but it took me forever to come. Maybe because my dinner consisted of mostly whiskey and a few stale Tostitos. In my drunken stupor my mind wandered: it started with me fisting the stripper on the stage in front of an audience of lecherous businessmen. This blended into Ben fucking me on his sofa while he spit on my face calling me a slut. It concluded with Jefferson grinding a Hitachi on my pussy and commanding me not to come, which I find kind of funny.

Thanks to viewers like me

I always get turned on riding trains, but this is ridiculous. I had to pause and mention, that I was masturbating while watching the "American Experience" documentary on the construction of Grand Central Station.

Sheesh…

The Hitachi -v- The Cone

I first posted this review on my other blog and have since done a side by side comparison. The Hitachi is still more powerful, but less nuanced. The Cone may not be quite as intense a vibration, but the variety of vibrations make up for it. I use the HItachi when I want to come and don't have a lot of time. It's efficent and in a way the design of it shows it. It's a power tool, there to do the job and it does it... quickly. It also makes me squirt. It doesn't mess around. The Cone is seductive, it teases, it's pink and sculptural in a minimalist way. It packs a big punch in a pretty package. The Hitachi is a "fucking take me now!" vibrator. The Cone is a "lay me down by the fire, baby" vibrator.

The original review:

The Cone I love this thing! It's right up there with the Hitachi. Is it worth $130? I think so.

It tooks some experimentation to figure out which position worked better. Lying on it face down ("The Clitimulator") is the most comfortable, for me so far. But, "The Wall" is pretty fun. It's totally hands free, there are no cords and the controls are just two little buttons that are easy to access. And if you're like me and like my porn in the written form, that makes life so much easier.

It's also simple. There are no bells and whistles. I never liked the Rabbit or the Dolphin or those vibes that wiggle around when it's in your cunt and tickles your ass and thumps on your clit and looks like an animal... they're too complicated. I don't need a whole song and dance, just do the damn job!

It has 16 different settings that range from a regular vibration to various pulsations, sort of like a pulsing showerhead. It even includes a "straight to orgasm" button in case you're short on time!

I'm really anxious to try it out during sex (with another person, I mean). See "The Cone Dog". Also, since you're basically humping and grinding on this thing, I imagine watching someone on it would be pretty damn hot.

And because I care about these things, it looks cool.

The only drawback is (like so many vibes) is that the fucker is LOUD. While trying out one of the pulsing settings it sounded like there was a disco in my mattress! Also, I don't think it's so great if you are on your back. It's not really meant to be held, it needs to be resting on a surface.

I have a lot more experimenting to do and I hear there are some attachments in the works.