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Armour For Your Sword

Hey sex fans!

It’s Product Review Friday! And this week we feature another innovative product from the creative folks at Perfect Fit Brand.  As you all probably know the Perfect Fit Brand is responsible for one of the best products of 2012 — the Best Product or Toy for MenFat Boy Cock Extender.

We’ve come to expect great things from this fine, young company. In fact, this is our 5th Perfect Fit Brand review and each and every product has been a winner. To keep track of all our PFB reviews use the search function in the header of DrDickSexToyReviews.com, type in Perfect Fit Brand, and PRESTO!

Dr Dick Review Crew member, Greg is here to tell us about his new find.

ARMOUR UP —— $19.56

Gregarmour up02
My friend Trevor invited me to visit him in Palm Springs a few weeks ago. He promised lots of pool parties and sex. As it turned out, the weather was perfect. Upper 70’s and low 80’s, basically sizzlin’ for this pasty Seattleite. Not that extreme hot, like it is in the summer. I had a ball!

Here’s the thing, I sometimes get a little self-conscious about the size of my package when wearing Speedos. I mean, I’m a grower not a shower. Does that sound shallow? Ok, so maybe I am.

Just before I left, Dr Dick turned me on to a new product from Perfect Fit Brand. It’s called ARMOUR UP. I’ve been hoping to score one of their products since I read the review of their now infamous Fat Boy. They are also the maker of the Cruiser Cockring, which we’ve also reviewed.  And I mention that because ARMOUR UP is a cockring too, but it’s like no other cockring I’ve ever used or worn.

ARMOUR UP is a teardrop shaped design. While the shape is nothing new; I have this kick ass stainless steel one that is beautiful, but a bitch to put on and take off. And despite the fact that it look great on my junk, all shiny and shit, its uncomfortable to wear for long periods of time. In fact, I thought the ARMOUR UP one was gonna be the same way. I was so wrong!

armour up04ARMOUR UP is made of an ultra-stretchy and resilient material called PF Blend, which is a combination of silicone and TPR (a thermoplastic elastomer). It is easy-on and easy-off and it is so fuckin’ comfortable, I can wear it for hours at a time. And you know I did under my Speedos.

The teardrop design is unique because not only does it do what every good cockring should do, slightly constrict your cock (and balls) so that blood flows into your dick, but doesn’t flow out as easily, thus making a nice sturdy erection. It also has this tab on the base, with a bump on it, which slings back behind your nuts and lands on your “taint.” That’s your perineum, that patch of skin, full of nerve endings, between your asshole and your balls. So there’s all this extra stimulation goin’ on by just wearing the thing.

While the ARMOUR UP teardrop shape is not new, it takes the design to a completely new level. It’s revolutionary anatomical shape is so unique! Once you have this thing on it actually makes your cock and balls protrude away from your crotch. And its slim design feels so good.

I put on the clear ARMOUR UP ring (it comes in two colors, clear and black) and then slipped into a pair of electric blue Speedos and stood in front of the mirror to check it out. DAMN, I was rockin’ this shit out. The silky feel of the material of the Speedos on my prominent dick head was giving me a nice little stiffy. I fuckin’ loved it. Now I looked like a shower, not just a grower.

I waltzed into kitchen where Trevor was putting some beers into a cooler and he took one look at me and dropped his jaw. armour up03“Hun, what you got goin’ on down there?” I just winked and said: “It’s my little secret. Besides, you’re such a size queen!” And he said; “Well at least I’m honest. You know what they say; there are only two kinds of men—size queens and liars.”

I just want you to know that I gave Trevor the black ARMOUR UP as a thank you gift for hosting me for the weekend. You should see what it does for his big black dick. It was kinda obscene!

Besides the two colors that I already mentioned the ARMOUR UP comes in three sizes too, Standard (1.7”/38mm), Large (1.9”/43mm), and Sport (1.5”/34mm). Now you can find the perfect fit and the right color for every occasion. The cool thing about the clear one is, even stripped down, you can’t really tell I’m wearing a cockring.

Don’t be afraid to get lube on this thing; warm soapy water will clean it right up. it’s sturdy and will last and last. It might be the last cockring you’ll ever buy.

Full Review HERE!

ENJOY!

Is bigger better?

Name: Marie
Gender: Female
Age: 21
Location: Florida
I’ve had sex with exactly two guys. Each one has had an average sized penis, but both thought they were small. The sex we had was nice and I was happy with it. What I don’t understand is why guys have this obsession with having a large penis? From everything I’ve read, most women don’t care about size and yet that’s all I hear about from my guy friends. What gives?

Like I always say — Nothing quite captures a dude’s imagination like his cock. Its size, shape and general appearance is a source of endless wonderment. Unfortunately, along with all that wonderment there often comes envy. I wrote a long column about much the same thing back in February — Willie Worry & Willie Pride.huge pen..

I suppose if we never had anything to compare it to, our precious willie would be the best darn willie there ever was. That’s the beauty of self-love. Funny though how a guy’s self-admiration can evaporate when he’s confronted with the sight of some other fella swinging some heavy pipe. This change in mood is pretty predictable. Some people suggest that we have been programmed to believe that big is better. And this is a throwback to when us men folk were just learning to stand upright and move about on two legs. It would have been pretty obvious what we have hangin’ down there

Since the time of our primate ancestors, humans have worshiped the male phallus. At first the representations were nothing more than crude upright pillars of wood or stone called a lingam. The Egyptians created a more exalted depiction — the obelisk — to represent the sun god, Ra’s, cock. In time, the obelisk would morph into the church steeple and the mosque’s minaret, as the preferred religion changed with the ages. When capitalism became the new creed, the steeple and minaret morphed once again into the skyscraper. Simple upright pillar or immense high-rise they’re all statements of virility, power and prestige. And isn’t it just like us to believe that the city with the biggest skyscraper wins. If this “bigger is better” sort of mentality has been going on in art, architecture and religion for several millennia, you know for sure it’s been happening on an individual level too.

tantric_lingam_stone_536   Munich, Obelisk     Toshiba Exif JPEG     Istanbul_+Blaue+Moschee+Minarette14     swirl-skyscraper

From the beginning of recorded time different cultures have designated cock size as an outer sign of a man’s inner values. The size of a guy’s dong was synonymous with his status, power, masculinity and sexual potency. Curiously, the ancient Greeks prized a puny pecker as the standard of male beauty. A big dick was an object of ridicule. Their mythology saddled the satyrs — woodland creatures with pointy satyrears, hairy legs, and short goat-like horns — with exaggerated cocks to symbolize their excess and lechery. Aristotle reasoned that a small penis was more fertile than a large one, because the semen didn’t have to travel as far and it didn’t cool as much while making its ejaculatory journey. Whatever, Aristotle!

The Hindus also cherished a tiny endowment. Men with the smallest phallus, 2-3 inches, were the beautiful ideal. They were characterized as lithe and strong. Prodigious packages of 9+ inches were compared to those of the beasts. And men who possessed them were considered worthless and lazy. Imagine trying to sell these concepts today.

Except for the Greeks and Hindus, everyone else idolized generous phallic dimensions. For example, so obsessed were the Arabs with the notion big dick superiority that the Turks of the Ottoman Empire took advantage of this mindset. It was the practice of the Turks to publicly compare the cock size of vanquished Arab leaders with the superior size cocks of their own Turkish commanders. This, in the end, effectively shattered Arab resistance.

shunga5fbooks5fpillow5fbooks5f5f77Japanese “pillow books,” an early form of Asian porn, always depicted the men with exaggerated cocks and this was always to the delight of the admiring women. In renaissance Europe it was fashionable for men to don a “codpiece,” a primitive jock strap sort of thing sewn inside a guy’s drawers. The design was obviously intended to emphasize his package. Men of modest endowment, of course, found it necessary to pad their codpiece or be the object of scorn.

Here’s a startling statistic — Dr. Barry McCarthy, author of “Male Sexual Awareness,” found that two out of three men believe their dick is smaller than average. Isn’t that astonishing? How is that possible? I suppose given this culturally induced big dick bias, it’s no wonder men, of almost every historical age and society, have been obsessed with disguising their shortcomings, or trying to develop a method to compensate for what they consider to be their woeful inadequacy?

Around two thousand years ago, men in several tribes in Africa popularized the practice of hanging a weight from their cock. Actually, many historians believe the practice harkens back to ancient Egypt. The pharaohs were known to stretch their cock and balls using weights to increase sexual pleasure. Lots of guys do this very thing today — mostly for pleasure enhancement, but there are always those who think this is an effective way to increase the size of their dick.SURMA SURI TRIBE - OMO ETHIOPIA

Hanging a weight from the end of your cock (and/or balls) will sure enough stretch the tissues that make up your shaft (and/or sack). It’s gravity at work. But this can be dangerous because this practice can diminish the circulation of oxygen-rich blood, which is essential for the upkeep of the smooth muscle tissue. And smooth muscle tissue makes up about 90% of your cock. And doggoneit, this technique simply robs Peter to pay Paul, so to speak. What lengthening might happen comes at the expense of your dick’s thickness. Just stands to reason, you have only so much cock to work with. If you pull on it; it may get longer, but it’ll also gonna get thinner.

A modern variation on the age-old stretching techniques is the traction method. A guy puts his cock in a kind of noose and either straps his wiener to his leg, or hooks it up to a traction contraption that looks way too much like a medieval torture device for my tastes. The claim here is that constant stretching, makes the cells in this area divide and multiply, thus increasing the tissue mass. There’s no arguing with the concept, people have been using this method of centuries as a means of adorning and customizing their bodies, particularly lips and ears. Consider the women of the Surma tribe in Ethiopia — they wear lip plates. Their lower lip is pierced when they are young girls and stretched with ever-larger plates over time. But what they gain in beauty, they loose in sensitivity. The same thing is true of a guy’s cock. What he may gain in size he will surely loose in sensitivity. And that’s not a good thing.

The Jelq or Milking technique is an ancient method of penis enlargement practiced in the Middle East. Traditionally it was taught father to son when the kid reached adolescence. Wealthy families sent their boys to a gym or health club where a highly trained attendant would perform the Jelq technique on the boy each day. As a result of these daily treatments the kid’s dick would develop to dimensions not otherwise attained without the method. Modern day advocates of this technique claim that milking also works on the fully developed adult penis, but I have my reservations.

The Jelq involves massaging the semi-erect cock in a rhythmic and regular manner, enhancing blood flow within the shaft. The claim is that after several months of this, one could see a size increase, both in girth and length. Long-time practitioners claim gains of several inches in length are possible, but one can only imagine how many hours that might take over the course of a year or longer. Effective jelqing demands an hour or more each day for exercises. I mean, who has that kind of free time on his hands? No wonder most men fail to complete their jelqing programs.

Old_penis_pumpPenis enlargement pills and patches proliferate on internet, but there is virtually no documented evidence that they work. All such products use herbal ingredients, like ginkgo biloba and yohimbe, which act as stimulants and vasodilators. The best one can say is that some pills may enhance blood flow, which may, in some cases, cause an ever so slightly bigger woody. Once a program like this is started, it needs to be continued for as long as you want the effect to last. Imagine how much that would cost; this stuff is expensive

Finally, the early 20th century brings the advent of modern technology to the “treatment” of impotence, or as we currently know it: erectile dysfunction. Please note, all the devices and surgical interventions of the last 100 years were initially designed to treat ED. Only later did folks begin to use these interventions as male enhancement schemes. Take the Austrian inventor Otto Ledever for example. He reasoned that if a stiffy was all about blood flow then maybe he could come up with a device that would draw blood into a cock creating an erection where there wasn’t one before. In 1917, our hero patented an airtight cylinder topped by a bulb that created a vacuum within the chamber. Insert a limp dick — pump, pump, pump and TADA! — An impressive erection resulted. There was a rub, however. When the vacuum was eliminated and the cylinder removed the “faux-erection” drained away nearly as quickly as it arrived. It was only a matter of time till our friend, Otto, discovered that ya gotta constrict the flow of blood back into the body once the guy’s peanut was engorged. And that, my friends was the birth of the cockring! Isn’t science amazing?

Good luck

Hey Dr Dick! What’s that toll-free podcast voicemail telephone number?
Why, it’s: (866) 422-5680. DON’T BE SHY, LET IT FLY!

Desperate measures

Name: Jake
Gender:  Male
Age: 18
Location: London
I have never had sex mostly because I have never managed to approach the person. I am bisexual and am desperate to have sex with a guy or girl. What are the best ways to approach someone for sex?

Never managed to approach a person for sex? Are you just shy, or are you a total geek? Either way, my friend, you gotta get over yourself if you ever hope to get laid.

Ok, so you’re just 18 without a lot of experience in the ways of the world. Here’s what I tell everyone who asks me this question, regardless of age or gender. When it comes to asking for sex, I think the direct approach works best. Just so long as you’re not gonna be a dick about it. If you haven’t already discovered, baggin’ a chick will probably take a bit more finesse than pokin’ on a bloke. And coming on to a mate will take a different approach than hittin’ up a stranger for a shag.

If there’s a bit of charm about you, your task will be considerably easier than if you are some crude Neanderthal who just wants to notch his belt. If you’re not sure what your selling points are, ask a friend for his or her feedback. If he or she tells you nice things bout yourself, you might be in luck. If he or she tells you that you’re a charmless creep, you’ll have your work cut out for you.

Regardless what group you fall into — the “maybe fuckable”, or the “not fucking ever,” you can always improve your image and hone your unique style. Look to how you present yourself; make sure you are groomed, clean and odor-free. Dress like you mean to impress. Doesn’t need to be fancy or fussy, just make it look like you gave your cloths a thought before you dressed yourself. Make yourself interesting, have a point of view, but share it sparingly. Have a sense of humor about yourself. If you can’t be clever or witty, then keep your mouth shut for the most part.

The internet is a great place to test the waters. Dating and hook-up sites abound. Put up a profile…with a photo or too. Here’s a tip, save the dick pics for the queer sites. Women don’t want to see your pathetic willie, at least not right away. One thing for sure, there’s nothing more unattractive to most women or men than a desperate fuck. Asking for what you want is good, pleading to be taken out of pity is not!

Few women are as casual about sex as are most men. So if a woman tells you no, she just may be shy, or not ready, or not sure. If a guy tell you no, it’s not the end of the world. He’s probably not into your type. Since there are so many fish in the sea, if you’re immediately not successful, move on. Sometimes getting laid is a situational thing. Being in the right place at the right time is helpful.

Chicks are gonna be concerned about the whole pregnancy thing. This is much more serious concern for a girl then for a boy. If you’re not well versed on methods of contraception, you’re not ready to have sex. Sexually transmitted infections ought to be a concern for you both. Don’t be a fuck-up; always use a condom regardless your partner’s gender.

If you’re dick is hard, it’s not the right time to talk about sex with a woman, but it might be the best time to hit up a dude. Women don’t necessarily like the lean and hungry look. Men tend to groove on it.

There are lots of different ways to have sex, so what might be appealing to one person may not be to another. Hand jobs and/or blow jobs are often more easy to cum by than full-on fucking with both chicks and blokes.

In the end, there no standard way to ask for sex, but if you treat a prospective partner, regardless of gender, with respect, honesty, and patience, you can be sure whatever words you use will be more effective than if you’re an uncouth lout.

Good luck

The Dark Heart of Homophobia

No podcast today, but there is this…

I’m riding the bus when we come to a stop near a local high school. Five teenage boys get on. They’re all jocks—football, probably. Their jackets are emblazoned with varsity letters and they appear to be fresh from practice. Each carries an oversized duffel.

They are boisterous and full of menacing bravado. The bus is immediately overwhelmed with a rush of testosterone. As they move toward the back of the bus, they purposely jostle everyone in their path. They’re rude and crude and every other word is fuck.

The bus lurches forward, and my fellow passengers instinctively know not to make eye contact. The older women clutch their belongings tight to their bosom. Everyone is tense.

The pack mentality emboldens the young men, who are flush with their newly discovered sense of male privilege. Hormones rage in their adolescent bodies, yet there is an awkward childishness about them too. They are alpha, but only in as much as they are part of a pack.

They have off-color comments for everyone around them. Girls are singled out for the most abuse. They make insinuations about their sexual prowess, while pawing at their groins. The women blush with embarrassment.

Despite being loud, obnoxious and brutish, they lack conviction. They giggle too much, indicating self-consciousness. It’s apparent that, at their core, they are still very uneasy about themselves, and have yet to grow into and own the alpha maleness they mimic.

The bus approaches the next stop, and several of us get up to exit. A nerdy boy with glasses and a violin case accidentally trips over one of the teen’s duffel bags. This is the spark. The jocks erupt, lunging at the offending kid. He is easy prey. He’s petrified, but his survival instincts kick in, and he quickly maneuvers further up the aisle. I grab his shoulder and push him toward the door ahead of me. He makes his escape.

Now I’m in the line of fire. The rear door is only a couple steps away, but I stand my ground. The jocks size me up. I’m not an easy mark; I’m older and more dominant than any of them as individuals, but they trump me as a group. I may even be dangerous. In a split-second, the teens reevaluate the situation and instead of coming at me, they try to take me down with their best verbal shot: “You motherfucking fag!”

I move to the door. This could end very badly for me, but I will not show any weakness. Adrenaline courses through my bloodstream. I alight from the bus, holding the door open so I can briefly yell back. “Hey, thanks for the recognition. Oh, and for your information, its father-fucking, brother-fucking and/or son-fucking fag, never mother-fucking. Get it?”

By the time the jocks realize what’s happened, the bus is in motion, and I am safe.

The teens thought better of physically attacking me, so they did the next best thing. It’s what most threatened males do: they tried to diminish the threat by calling into question my masculinity.  And they do it in that time-honored way—by inferring I was a defective male, a queer, and a sissy. Trouble is, I am queer, and I owned it—right in their faces. On top of that, I stood up to them and even had the temerity to publicly shame them. So that had to be unsettling to them on several levels.

How did the derogatory epithet fag become the quintessential means of destroying the male ego? Why has the only somewhat less offensive slur, “that’s so gay,” become emblematic for everything stupid, negative or girly? These questions get to the root of our culture’s deeply ingrained homophobia.

I contend that homophobia is rooted in a fear and hatred of women. It’s no accident that when we want to denigrate a man we call him a pussy—the same word we use to refer to female genitals. In our culture, men are superior to women—it’s the oily by-product of male privilege. A man who falls short of this lofty ideal, or, god forbid, assumes a passive role in sex, cheapens the “privilege” for all other males. This is a particularly sensitive issue for ostensibly heterosexual men.

This prohibition is so deep-seated in our culture, one can trace its roots back to the Bible. Leviticus 20:13: “If there is a man who lies with a male as those who lie with a woman, both of them have committed a detestable act; they shall surely be put to death.” In biblical days, women were nothing more than chattel. For a man to behave like a woman—particularly in a passive, receptive sexual way—back then was an even greater insult to the male privilege than it is nowadays (which explains the whole capital punishment thing.)

Women are also objectified as sexual objects before men dominate them. A woman is not so much a person as she is a collection of parts—tits, pussy, ass, etc. A heterosexual man, familiar with and practiced in this dynamic, will not tolerate another male objectifying him as a sexual object, either real or imagined.

These cultural triggers are exceptionally easy to trip. With very little effort at all, we can debase a man simply by suggesting that there’s a whiff of the feminine about him. In turn, the slandered male is burdened with proving the contrary, which often leads to overcompensation. To deflect suspicion, some men affect a macho bravado so as to appear even more masculine than their peers. And how better to do that than to suggest someone else is a pansy?

I can say for certain that all those boys on the bus had been, at one time or another, accused of being a fag. It’s exceedingly common in sports for even teammates to insinuate a fellow athlete is not performing up to expectations. Each of them must have known the sting of that reproach. Some may even have had self-doubt about their own sexual tendencies. That’s why they hurled at me what they knew would hurt any other self-respecting male the most.

What they didn’t count on was that I had, long ago, inoculated myself against this poison. I own, even revel, in my queer sexuality. An insult doesn’t work if the one insulted self-identifies as the slur.

Institutionalized homophobia, on the other hand, is more insidious. The dominant culture enshrines male privilege and, like the boys on the bus, punishes anyone who attempts to undercut the paradigm. Discrimination is so widespread, ingrained—and sometimes so subtle—that many non-gay people don’t even notice most of it. But those of us on the receiving end of the bigotry are keenly aware.

It’s a particularly acute problem for young people who know they are different, and different in a way that isn’t tolerated of by the dominant culture. They are much more vulnerable because they have yet to developed the emotional resources to counteract the oppression. They don’t yet realize that it’s society’s problem, not theirs. Their peers mercilessly persecute them. And for the most part, authority figures don’t even try to stop the torment. That’s why young gay people commit suicide at a rate of about seven times that of straight kids.

You may have noticed that I’ve framed this presentation in terms of the natural world. Dominant and submissive behaviors in other species often have sexual overtones, especially in other primate species. A dominant male will harass a male subordinate until he submits and presents his rump. This establishes a pecking order in the troupe: a subordinate male is submissive and the dominant male is in control.

Some straight men see gay men as a threat, instinctively fearing a supposed challenge to the established order of things; who is in control. It’s basically a struggle for dominance and troupe status. A gay person who is a productive member of society, who is indistinguishable from his heterosexual counterparts, ups the ante. He’s a threat to anyone who believes what he may have been told all his life—that gays are perverted, miserable, lonely people who live short, desperate lives.

Institutionalized homophobia impacts so many aspects of our culture. It may be obvious how it skews our notions of sex and sexuality, of who can do what to whom and when. But did you know that it is often an underlying cause of much male sexual dysfunction? It also contaminates national policy in terms of public health issues, military readiness and the rights and freedoms we afford our citizenry. The business sector also suffers. Harassment and intimidation of gay workers result in loss of productivity costing businesses millions every year. But the most tragic is the toll it takes on individual relationships. Families are torn apart, friendships end, and people sometimes are killed or kill themselves over a futile and misguided attempt to uphold the status quo.

Class (GLASS) Act

Hey sex fans,

Lookie what we have here; its art that is as stunning on your mantle as it is inside you.  Over the next two weeks, the Dr Dick Review Crew has the pleasure (both literally and figuratively) of introducing you to three exquisite insertables by a brand new artisan:  Simply Blown.  They get extra points for their name and the double entendre. Who doesn’t appreciate a sex toy company with a sense of humor?

Each one of the toys we have is unique.  They are individually crafted and are museum quality.  Think of it as old world craftsmanship with a wickedly sexy edge.  What could be finer?

Dr Dick Review Crew members — Gina & Kevin and Joy & Dixie do the honors.

This week Gina & Kevin is tell us about Love Line.

Gina: “You can understand my excitement when Kevin and I were chosen to review these beauties. Just look at them! I could hardly contain myself.”
Kevin: “She gets that way sometimes.”
Gina: “What, are you trying to say you didn’t cream your jeans at the thought of having one of this up your bum?”
Kevin: “Oh I’m so BUSTED!”
Gina: “There, I told you.”
Kevin: “Gina’s right we both got a little moist at the thought of diddlin’ ourselves (and one another) with the likes of the
Love Line. She got the big one — 9″ tall x 1 5/8″ diameter, which stand on a flared base.”
Gina: “And he got the petite one — 5″ tall x 1″ diameter, also with a flared base.”
Kevin: “She used hers in her pussy, I used mine in my ass!”
Gina: “It’s exactly like Jack Sprat and his wife, only completely different.”product_1
Kevin: “We no sooner got in the door when we dropped trou, whipped out the lube and had at it for our first go.”
Gina: “The tiniest bit of lube, either water-based or silicone-based, makes these beautiful glass insertables super slick.”
Kevin: “I love to watch Gina fuck herself with her toys. I get so fuckin’ hot. The
Love Line glass made the experience almost psychedelic. Once she got her rhythm, the 9” of super-smooth purple art plunged deeper into Gina with each stroke. This drove her wild. And, of course, I egged her on by making the most lewd comments I could think of. ‘That’s it baby, stretch out that tiny little cunt of yours with that really big boy.’ ”
Gina: “He does love his dirty talk. I used to be so embarrassed when he would do that. It sounded so crude. Now turns me on. See I’m growing!”
Kevin: “Gina’s on her back, propped up by pillows. I’m opposite her squatting till my ass lips come in contact with the glass. It’s cool and my ass devours it.”
Gina: “It’s true, without so much as a moment’s hesitation the petite pink plug disappears inside him. He grins with amusement and spews more filthy talk.”
Kevin: “I’ve taken bigger, but the hardness of the glass is a new sensation. Oh, and by the way, this insertable can’t really be called a plug. It’s a dildo. A plug would have a notch just before the base that my sphincter would lock onto to hold it in place.”
Gina: “I stand corrected.”
Kevin: “I sure do hope Simply Blown does come out with a line of plugs. Because I would love to wear one of these babies for a few hours.”
Gina: “We both came watching each other pleasure ourselves. I love to watch Kevin feed his behind.”
Kevin: “Don’t you just love how she avoids calling my asshole an asshole?”
Gina: “Sheesh!”
Kevin: “On our next date with the
Love Line we took our time. We added some sensation play. The Love Line, indeed all fine glass like this, can be heated and chilled. We used both, a hot water bath in one bowl and an ice water bath in the other. Going from hot to cold or cold to hot blew our minds.”

Full Review HERE!

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