One of the best things I’ve read about sex this year is this piece by Girly Juice on the joys of sex toys with a partner. She approaches it from a straight perspective which actually made me relate to it more (despite Princess’s love of the Doxy.)
I think we could safely say that before I met my Master, I’d had a slutty past. I know some people keep lists of their partners and know precise numbers but I’ve always taken more the tack of an old workmate I met through escorting. Her version of a spreadsheet was whether you could fit your partners on a bike, a family car, a minibus, Intercity Express or an oil tanker.
I think mine is probably most likely to be measured in Tube carriages, especially those rush hour ones where you can’t really be too specific because it’s all just a mass of limbs and body parts you aren’t quite sure of but are pressing against you anyway.
Safe to say, I have a sample size large enough to make me feel like a relative expert on men’s sexual proclivities. And until I met my Master, one man asked me if I owned any sex toys because he thought they’d add to our sexual experience.
Yes, you read that right. One man wasn’t intimidated or challenged by or simply ignorant of all the things that sex toys can add to their experience with a partner in all that time. Even when you allow for the fact I’m old enough that you had to send off mail order for sex toys unless you wanted a glittery Rampant Rabbit from Ann Summers with as much oomph as a draft from your window frame, that means a lot of men still aren’t clued up to partnered sex toy fun.
You’re probably wondering why I didn’t try to convert them since I don’t sound like a shrinking violet sexually. Partly because I didn’t really bother with sex toys that much myself those days. I tended to prefer picking men up for sex than masturbation in those days so anything I bought wouldn’t have got that much use.
And I had my hands full a lot of the time with other sexual issues. You’d be shocked how much time I spent trying to get a lot of these men to behave like a decent human being, be interested in any kind of orgasm for me and not to see sex as a one size fits all experience where their best move doesn’t work on all women because they aren’t actually a human slot machine.
It also clashed with my latent submissive tendencies to constantly be the person trying to bring things up when what you really want is a dominant man to make some effort and render you senseless with orgasms instead.
Part of me regrets not bringing up sex toys now because it might have made me raise my game a bit and consider people’s personalities a bit more than their general fuckability. But I also think it might have turned me full misandrist and utterly miserable in the process.
Instead, I let the one man who asked use his imagination and find a variety of things around my flat to pervert into several very fun evenings over several months. He also produced his own selection of toys and I had some of the most enjoyable sexual experiences of my slutty past with him, although comparatively little traditional penetrative sex.
He (and his strategically placed inner thigh tattoo) remained a happy memory from my early twenties but still didn’t convert me to either better taste in men or sex toys until I met my Master.
I can’t even imagine what sex without sex toys is like these days. I have been rewarded for waiting with my Master’s enjoyment and encouragement of using sex toys. It’s no wonder I have so many I lose track sometimes.
But it’s definitely not surprising that I’m not interested in other men’s sex toy habits any more when I can submit to my Master’s skills with them and try out a few new ideas of my own on Princess…