Saturday, 28 February 2009
| 12:00 am
| Toys
What’s nearly silent, insertable, and can be used with silicone lube? Why, the Vuali Elastomer Vibrator, of course! This high-end “innie” vibe is made out of a flame red thermoplastic elastomer that has less of the “jelly” look and feel of most other elastomer toys and more of a silicone-esque texture and firm-yet-squishable give to it. But, unlike silicone toys, you can use your favorite silicone lube with the Vuali and not worry about damaging the toy!
The Vuali is a full 8-1/4″ long, and it starts with a narrow point that quickly swells into a delightfully ridged area. The ridges have enough give to ease the insertion of the toy past this widest point (just over 1-1/2″ across), but once inside they’re firm enough that you can definitely feel them if you spin the toy. Push the other end towards the back of your body (a little awkward in some positions, true) and the swell fits nicely against the G-spot.
The motor is higher up in the toy, making the vibrations strongest right against the G-spot instead of at the entrance — a nice change from cheaper vibes with the motor at the end of the toy. The vibrations are of the thuddy variety, and come in eight different modes from low, medium or high vibrations to various patterns that pulse, ramp, pitter pat, etc. — some of the later ones simulate the throbbing pattern of a really good rogering. Thanks to German engineering, these vibrations are on the quieter side, making you probably the loudest thing in the room!
The whole thing is completely waterproof. I said waterproof, not splash-proof, which means not only can you use it in the shower, you can take a bath with it, take it in the hot tub, the pool, the ocean (don’t drop it!), etc. This makes it way easier to clean, too, as you don’t have to worry about getting water on one end of the toy while you scrub the other. The Vuali comes with some cool extras, too: a soft travel/ storage bag and a small box with five glass vials of different scents of body glide (3mL each of vanilla, fruisty, sensual, revitalizing and fragrance free); you can also send away for a free TantricGuide DVD if you register your toy with the manufacturer. It runs on simple AA batteries (not included, but we do sell them), making it easy to travel with. Looks good from the outside, feels great on your insides and comes with neat free stuff to boot; the Vuali is one date you’ll go on again and again.
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Friday, 27 February 2009
| 12:00 am
| Culture
Usually, when I write about a Dan Savage sex advice column, it’s with respect and admiration. It’s usually with a strong desire to share his ideas more widely, and to expand on those ideas with my own.
Not this time.
This time, I am smacking Mr. Savage across the head, and telling to stop acting like a twit.
In a recent column, Savage compiled a sampler of questions from students on his recent tour of universities. And among them was this question:
“I’m a lesbian, and my girlfriend is bisexual and wants to have a three-way with a man. This makes me nervous. What should I do?”
Savage’s advice?
“Get yourself a refillable Xanax prescription, or get yourself an actual lesbian girlfriend.”
WTF?!?
This advice is so irresponsible it made my jaw drop. But •because the advice is so terse — and because the snark- to- content ratio is so disproportionately high — it’s a little hard to tease out its actual content, and the actual intent behind it. Near as I can tell, though, it seems to be one of the following three things. All of which suck.
Lesbians should beware of relationships with bisexual women, since bi women will leave lesbians for men. In a relationship between a lesbian and a bi woman, this will always be an irreparable source of anxiety. Lesbians are better off with other lesbians — they’re more reliable.
Right. And no lesbian in the history of Lesbonia has ever left her lover for another woman.
I have never been able to figure this one out. Why is it so intolerable for a lesbian to be left for a man, or for a gay man to be left for a woman? Why is this so radically different from being left for another woman, or another man? Dumpage is dumpage. Why should the genitals of the person you’re being dumped for make any difference?
Maybe Savage has fallen prey to the myth that bisexuals can’t be monogamous or satisfied in a relationship, because they’ll always be yearning for the gender they don’t have. If so . . . does he have any evidence for that? Is there any reason to think that being hot for both women and men makes you restless and cheaty, any more than being hot for both blonds and brunettes does?
And is there any evidence for the idea — one that Savage has asserted before, with no apparent basis in actual research — that bisexuals are more likely to wind up in opposite- sex relationships than same- sex ones?
The snark here is especially puzzling because, in this very column, Savage answers a more general question about three-ways with a thoughtful and fair reply. Question:
“We are a couple in a long-term committed relationship and have casually considered the possibility of a three-way. It would have to be with someone neither of us knew (or saw) to reduce any chance of an emotional attachment. Good idea?”
Savage’s advice:
“Three-ways with complete strangers are kind of difficult to arrange — unless you’re willing to go the rent-a-third route. But if you want to have a three-way with someone trustworthy and safe, you’re better off doing it with an acquaintance or an ex.”
A reasonable answer. A bit broad, could have used some clarification; but fine for a column of quickies. And his quickie response shows a basic respect for both the questioner and their partner, and for both of their sexual desires. Why doesn’t the bisexual girlfriend get the same respect?
So. That’s Option 1. Option 2:
Lesbians should beware of relationships with bisexual women, since the bi women will try to get them to do sexual things — like FFM three-ways — that the lesbians don’t want to do.
Right. And no lesbian in the history of lesbianicity has ever pressured her lover to do sexual things she doesn’t want.
If your bisexual girlfriend wants to have a three- way with a man, and it’s not your thing, then say, “No.” Or, if you’re non-monogamous, say, “No, I don’t want to, but you go knock yourself out with some other partner.” Or, if the idea doesn’t completely gross you out and you like to be good, giving, and game, say, “Yeah, sure, I’ll give that a try.”
Just like you would if your lesbian girlfriend wanted to fuck you in the ass, or wanted you to dress her up like a pony, or wanted to role-play at being Ann Coulter and Martha Stewart — or wanted to do a three-way with another woman — and it’s not your thing.
What does that have to do with bisexual versus lesbian?
If Mr. Savage wouldn’t advise anyone else to break up with their partner solely because of their unshared interest in ass play or pony play or Coulter play . . . why is he advising this woman to break up with her bisexual girlfriend, solely because of her unshared interest in MFF three-way play?
Finally, Option 3:
None of the above — at least, not clearly or explicitly. Dan Savage just has a bug up his butt about bisexuals, and he enjoys yanking our chain and watching us jump.
If that’s it, then good job. Well done. Here I am, Mr. Savage, along with probably lots of other bisexuals, jumping at the yank of your chain. If you wanted to make Serak the Bisexual cry, mission accomplished.
But is that really a mission you want to accomplish?
Do you really want to convey misinformation about bisexuals — especially to college students, many of whom are only beginning to figure out sex and their own sexual identity — just so you can have fun watching us get ticked off?
Let me ask you this, Mr. Savage. If you read a sex advice columnist who deliberately spread harmful sexual myths about gay men, just because he had a grudge against them and took pleasure in provoking them . . . how would you react? Would you think, “Oh, that cut-up, he has such a wacky sense of humor”? Or would you think he was acting like a bigoted, irresponsible, manipulative twit?
See, the other bug that Savage seems to have up his butt about bisexuals is that we take ourselves too seriously, and don’t have a sense of humor about being goaded. Unlike everybody else on the planet — and definitely unlike every other marginalized group — we get annoyed when people deliberately poke at our sore spots with a stick. How unreasonable of us.
The bisexuals I know have a great sense of humor — about bisexuality among other things. But yes, freakishly enough, when you prick us, we bleed. When you poison our reputation, we suffer. And when you wrong us, we may not revenge, but we fucking well are going to squawk about it.
It’s the phrase “actual lesbian girlfriend” that really frosts my cookies. I have been an actual girlfriend to my sweetheart — also female, also bisexual — for over eleven years. Technically, I suppose I’m not her “actual girlfriend” anymore, since we’ve gotten married — three times, in fact — and I’m now her “actual wife.” But the fact that I am an actual bisexual wife instead of an actual lesbian wife has exactly zero impact on my love, my loyalty, my passionate devotion to her, and my commitment to our relationship.
And I have more than paid my dues for the LGBT community. I’ve worked for shitty pay for LGBT community businesses; I’ve donated money to LGBT organizations; I’ve written at length, over the entire course of my career, about LGBT issues. I am not Them. I am Us. And I am tired of gays and lesbians treating me like a Them simply because I have crushes on both Rachel Maddow and Alan Rickman.
I don’t know what your issues are with bisexuals, Mr. Savage. I don’t know whether you got dumped for a woman by a bi guy and got your heart stomped, or what. And I don’t care. You’re acting like a twit. You’ve acted like a twit about this issue for as long as I’ve been reading you. Get over it.
You’re a sex advisor. As such, you have a responsibility to base your advice on reality — not on your personal biases or vendettas. Try this for a quickie answer to the question: “Relax. If you don’t want a MFF three-way, say ‘No.’ Just like you would with any other sexual request you’re not interested in.” Or, if you want to be more nuanced, try this: “What exactly are you nervous about? Are you afraid she’ll leave you if you say ‘No’? Or if you say ‘Yes’? Figure out what you’re nervous about. Tell your girlfriend. Find out where she’s coming from with this and how important it is to her. And work it out.”
See? Was that so hard?
You’re a sex advisor. You’re usually a good one. Act like one. Don’t give advice that misinforms people — especially young people — about bisexuals, just because you have some weird bug up your ass about us. Get over it already.
Greta Christina, copyright © 2009. Be sure to check out Greta’s blog.
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Thursday, 26 February 2009
| 12:00 am
| Supplies
Liquid Silk and Maximus lubes are now back in stock! By far our most popular two lubes, these water-based wonders have eased their way into many of your, er, hearts. We were temporarily out of stock, but a nice huge shipment has cleared customs and landed with a splorsh on our warehouse floor (in bottles, of course) and are shipping out as you read this. Be sure to slip your order in before this vast quantity of quality lube is snatched up!
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Men and women are different. Men have penises, and women have vaginas. Oh, and there are a whole bunch of other differences, too, some apparently inherent, many others culturally created, so let’s delve into some serious and not-so-serious examinations of sexual dimorphism in Homo sapiens . . .
Let me ease you into it with the funny: Beer advertisement flow-charts about how men and women are different, with an emphasis on how men are mostly interested in drinking beer and getting laid while women are more complicated, with the tagline, “Thank God you’re a man.” (I don’t know. I’m a man, and getting married and having kids has worked out pretty well for me. But then, individuals often fail to fit stereotypes, which is kinda the point. And I admit when I was in my twenties . . .) Still, the flow-chart approach is pretty funny, I’ll give ‘em that.
Supporting the men-are-shallow theory, there’s a new study proving that men see bikini-clad women as objects — he sees a woman in a two-piece, and the parts of his brain that deal with “with handling tools and the intention to perform actions” light up. Not shocking, but to see it backed up pretty conclusively by science is rather striking.
They didn’t study women exposed to beefcake imagery, alas — but there is a study showing that women are turned on by expensive sports cars. (Turns out men are, too, but neither sex was affected by an economy car.) Granted, the study had a small sample size and was put together by a company with some inherent bias, but again, it kind of makes sense.
But maybe men and women aren’t quite as different as they used to be, as demonstrated by this Marital Rating Scale given to men and women in the ’30s and ’40s to help pinpoint problem areas in their marriages. Hubby got points for reading the newspaper aloud to his wife and leaving the car for her on days when she has errands to run, and demerits for failing to come to the table promptly when dinner was ready and getting angry if the newspaper was disarranged. Wife got points for personally putting the children to bed and “dressing for breakfast,” and lost points for failing to darn socks regularly and for wearing pajamas instead of a nightgown. So, you know — things could be worse.
The Pope’s personal theologian (I would’ve thought that would be, I don’t know, God), Monsignor Wojciech Giertych, says men and women even sin differently! Men tend toward lust, gluttony, and sloth, in that order, while women go for pride, then envy, then anger. Thank goodness we have an elderly lifelong celibate male on hand to point out the deficiencies of women — what would we do without him?
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Monday, 23 February 2009
| 1:54 pm
| Industry
There’s a war going on for the soul of big black cock, and apparently I’m a combatant.
I usually try to stay out of these things. This time I was just drinking a pub and next thing you know, I woke up on a frigate in the East Indies, with Madison Young lashed to the mainmast, Shine Louise Houston loading grapeshot and Violet telling me to grab a belaying pin and start killing pirates or I won’t get my daily ration of grog.
Or maybe I’m still dreaming . . . nope, that’s the AVN logo instead of the pirate flag. It’s all real.
The fun started when The Sword published an unfavorable commentary on industry mag AVN’s February cover story about interracial porn. The article quoted JM Productions impresario Cram Johnson as saying: “When the races mix, especially if the purity of the sacred white woman is compromised, it gets a lot of attention — even if the white girl is as dirty and disease-riddled as humanly possible.”
The article claimed that “Negro” porn was “recession-proof.” AVN would later claim that the Sword article misquoted the cover story, which you check out for yourself if you’ve got 10 years for your computer to load a crappy PDF, or if you’re lucky enough to have a copy of AVN sitting around, since AVN doesn’t put print cover stories online as anything except these weird PDFs that crash my computer.
The Sword article referred to JM Productions’ Oh No! There’s a Negro in My Mom, a familiar title to me because it reflects JM’s obsessive use of the term “Negro” which, in case you missed the memo, is nowadays considered anywhere from mildly objectionable to rankly offensive. JM often refers to its titles in press releases as satire, which I don’t mind in practice, but in principle it makes me nervous for a fairly abstract reason.
Have you ever encountered this, white guys? Some other white guy with serious racial anxiety problems suddenly pops off in your presence about some ethnic group, assuming because you’re a white guy you’re totally down with such comments. When you say “Dude, WTF!?” the Other White Guy looks cowed and says “Just kidding.” If you pursue the matter, you’re almost guaranteed to get a lecture on how it was just a joke and you should really lighten up. Show of hands?
Well, I’m light. I’m exceedingly light, in fact, I’m so fucking light I verge on floating away. JM Productions overall is light, too. You must remember JM Productions, right? They’re the purveyors of such classy fare as American Bukkake and White Trash Whore. Now, in my checkered career I have defended JM Productions extensively and favorably reviewed literally dozens of their weird offerings of sleazy entertainment, on the grounds that porn should be evaluated as porn. Amber Rayne’s debut as a gangbanged prison escapee in the interracial White Trash Whore series? Masterful. American Bukkake 12? I laughed, I cried, it became a part of me. Piss Mops? High five!
I believe JM Productions stands as living proof that porn does not have to be classy, artsy, politically correct or have any socially redeeming value whatsoever in order to be, um, what it is, which is — I’m not actually sure, but I know it is something, definitely. I guess JM Productions is there to prove that for every Randy Spears monologue about love from a much-hyped “quality” Wicked production that brings a sex-positive couple to a deeper understanding of their eroto-spiritual connection, there’s a thousand guilty furtive cumshots clogging the computer keyboards of American porn viewers. Which is fine; furtive cumshots are more philosophically defensible than no cumshots.
JM Productions and their fantastically unclean siblings (Extreme Associates and Max Hardcore spring to mind) are the coprolaliacs of porn, spewing filth while the rest of us try to introduce artistry to an industry that only kinda sorta wants it, kinda. JM Productions pushes the edge because they push the edge — it’s their schtick.
That’s why it doesn’t even show on my radar when JM Productions uses an objectionable term like “Negro” not just for a porn title but for a whole series of series. Yes, this “Negro” thing has been going on for a time, ladies and gents, to the tune of I Can’t Believe You Sucked a Negro, Oh No! There’s a Negro In My Daughter, and Oh No! There’s a Negro In My Wife! This is par for the course.
But AVN? They’re a news organization, right? They’re the “voice of the industry,” aren’t they? They’re the place that mainstream journalists come to get information about the industry, yeah? AVN publishes socially responsible articles like this cover story about interracial porn — a serious consideration of the issue, we’re told. AVN is not and has never pretended to be The Onion. Except that they do kinda claim that — whenever they need to ridicule someone one of their writers gets a hard-on for, allowing them to scream “Freedom of speech, bitches!” while spewing wild-eyed vitriol with only the thinnest of justifications. And that’s exactly what happened when AVN responded to Violet’s San Francisco Chronicle column about the Sword article about their cover story with a delirious explosion of hatred that has them, among other non sequiturs, berating Violet for not mentioning an obscure John Dough incident involving a “Jew joke” from 10 years ago and saying of Madison Young, quoted in the article: “Surely, such a fiercely intelligent, enterprising and empowered woman could earn the necessary bucks by finding a job that doesn’t involve taking it up the ass for some greaseball caveman producer in Van Nuys. But that’s not the point; Madison is here to Subvert From Within!”
Is “taking it up the ass for some greaseball caveman producer in Van Nuys” really how AVN wants to portray its own industry? Oh, or maybe that’s just them being satiric again, this time at the expense of female performers, rather than African-American men. Hah! Funny! So funny! I’d forgotten that the place of the industry’s most prominent mouthpiece is to remind women, like blacks, that their opinions were not solicited because they are not wanted. This is where mainstream journalists will go to get information for their next article on porn. These are the keepers, supposedly, of American liberty.
This Violet’s Chronicle column quotes me, in which I encourage people to feel fine about getting turned on by “big black cock,” if that’s what turns them on. I suggest they maybe consider patronizing those owners of “big black cock” who also produce their own films.
After all, there’s “big black cock” and there’s big black cock. And there’s lively discussion — and then there’s bullshit. I’d like AVN to think twice next time before they launch an attack that makes them, and the industry, look small-minded, reactionary and self-righteously racist. But I’m not holding my breath.
Thomas Roche blogs about BBC, BBSs and BBWs at thomasroche.com.
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Monday, 23 February 2009
| 12:00 am
| Videos
Sex-Z Pictures has done some of my favorite films of recent years, so I was excited to pick up Icon, a three-hour feature with anal princess Hillary Scott as the headliner and director Eli Cross, who has proven himself a daring filmmaker and a good scriptwriter, too.
Icon is rather less story-driven than the high-profile films Cross has done previously, and it’s not as ambitious, but it’s just as fully-packed with nasty action. The emphasis here isn’t on plot, but simply on sex — usually group sex, often kinky group sex. Hillary plays a spoiled, bratty version of herself, a snarky porn star disgusted with her director Eli, but some of the writing is hilarious, even if there is a lot of what might be termed inside baseball — little jokes and digs at the industry, other movie studios (”Why are we doing a cheesy knock-off anyway? Are we suddenly Wicked Pictures?”), and other performers (though the names are bleeped out). It’s very amusing meta-porn, and the writing is sharp.
In the opening, Hillary refuses to do the cheesy Marilyn Monroe-inspired “Seven Year Bitch” and sets out to make a porn film people will actually want to watch — one with wall-to-wall fucking. The opening scene has Hillary in sweet lingerie doing decidedly unsweet things with Mick Blue, including self-gagging oral and thorough anal pounding. Nobody does getting ass-fucked better than Hillary Scott.
There’s a fantastic massage parlor three-way scene with lots of DP and anal, but my favorite is the dungeon scene — where Hillary gets locked in a cage and forbidden to take part in the action. There’s no shortage of fun onscreen though, with four women in leather, chains, and assorted restraints — lots of spanking, slapping, sucking, anal hooks, gags, ass-fucking, double anal, and even more depraved things. Slavegirls being brutally fucked and loving it — what could be better?
There’s an all-girl orgy (with lots of toys and anal, of course), and another big orgy scene (seven-way!) to close out the film, and the film comes with three discs of bonus materials. Some of it’s filler — trailers, photo galleries, and a couple of hours of scenes from other movies, which makes a nice sampler, at least — but the lengthy behind-the-scenes feature is interesting and entertaining. The essential components of Icon are high production values, beautiful performer, lots of anal sex, and a generous dollop of kink, and if Hillary Scott didn’t already have a place in the firmament of porn stardom, this would help put her there.
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I’m sure most of you are aware that Valentine’s Day is just around the corner. If you’re still looking for that perfect romantic gift, we have a couple of unusual suggestions that might just make this year’s day of organized romance that much more special.
First up, we have The Original ToiBocks Jewelry Box. This high-end jewelry box makes a luxurious gift, with its polished dark cherry wood finish, red felt lined interior and overall quality craftsmanship. But this pretty box has a secret. Use the secret key on the hidden lock to unlock the secret compartment underneath the jewelry tray. No, I’m not going to tell you more than that about how to unlock it; rest assured that there are clear instructions with every box, and that it’s quick and easy to open.
The hidden compartment is roomy enough for a surprising number of sex toys, lube, condoms, even full-sized DVDs in their cases! This makes the ToiBocks ideal for those of you with kids, parents, nosy roommates or dexterous cats living with you that you need to keep out of your goodies. Even if you have more toys than can fit in this generous 10″ x 6″ x 2-1/2″ space (which I do), you can use it for the bedside essentials. Trust me, not having to dig for the sex-toy box in the highest reaches of your closet for your condoms, lube and clit-stimulating cock-ring really helps to keep the mood going.
I should note that after we all played with the demonstration model, a full third of the office placed pre-orders for The Original ToiBocks, myself included. It looks absolutely stunning on my bedside table, and neither the cats nor the kid has figured out how to open it yet. The Original ToiBocks makes a generous, sumptuous and thoughtful gift on its own, or use it as extravagant wrapping and hide a few goodies inside to keep the surprises coming.
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Sunday, 22 February 2009
| 12:00 am
| Videos
Evan Essence might have been entitled Evan’s Adventures in Time and Space, as each of the vignettes takes place in a particular time period, as demonstrated by music, costuming, and stage dressing. We gets scenes in the 1920s, 1940s, 1950s, 1970s, and the 2000s. (Which means we get no Great Depression dust bowl porn, no mud-covered hippie porn, and no ’80s guys doing coke and wearing power suits porn — all for the best! We do get flappers, femme fatales, flower children, and club kids.) This is a porn historical movie, though, so there’s not all that much attention paid to period detail and continuity; I’m guessing that total lack of pubic hair and the tramp-stamp lower back tattoos might have elicited some comment in the 1950s, for instance. But why turn back the clock on some of time’s greatest accomplishments?
I tend to think of Evan Stone as one of porn’s biggest scenery-chewing camera-mugging goofballs — his natural gifts as an actor (beyond his skills at fucking, of course) tend toward the comedic, so I was dubious about a soft-focus romantic film with his name in the title. My fears were unfounded; he performs admirably in his role as beefcake dreamboat in the two scenes where he appears.
The grainy newsreel-footage style of the first (1920s) scene, which also mixed black and white and color film, made for a visually interesting palette. Evan was cute in a newsboy cap, making out with Lisa Marie as a flapper wearing a string of pearls and (eventually) not much else. There was a lot of slow and tender build-up in their scene before the fucking began in earnest.
I also liked the 1940s film noir scene, with Gen Padova as a femme fatale in an apartment with a writer (or reporter or, ahem, private dick — couldn’t be sure, but he had a sweet manual typewriter). She pours wine down her man’s chest and all over his cock and then licks it off, which is enough to drive anyone to drink.
The hottest was probably the 1950s four-way, with two clean-cut young men giving two poodle-skirt-clad cute girls an all-American fuck; it’s more two couples screwing in parallel than an actual four-way, but the movement between couples kept things interesting, and the set dressing (including a jukebox, Dalmatian-print chairs, and a vintage red convertible with tailfins) provided a number of pretty props to fuck against.
The final club scene, with Evan Stone and Scarlet O’Whora covered in body paint that glowed under blacklight, was beautiful too, and even provided the film’s only anal sex, though it was relatively gentle stuff, not gonzo pounding — definitely a strong finish, both visually and erotically, to the film. This is a fun, romantic movie, more slow burn than hot-and-spicy, perfect for warming up a couple on a cold night.
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A few weeks ago I pointed out our gorgeous new Original ToiBocks Jewelry Box. For those of you looking for something both a little cheaper and a little easier to get into, while still being just as lovely and discreet as the Original, look sharp! The ToiTissue is a handsome tissue box, made out of solid wood, polished to a dark cherry sheen. And, while it does an admirable job of dispensing tissues, it serves double-duty as a secret hiding place. Slide out the hidden compartment to discover a small, felt-lined tray for your goodies.
Note that the ToiTissue, unlike the Original ToiBocks, does not have a lock, so this is admittedly not as secure. But the compartment is reasonably well hidden — someone would have to go looking for it, as it’s not immediately obvious there’s anything different about the box. The compartment is smaller, but it’s big enough to hold condoms, a small bottle of lube, nipple clamps, a cock-ring or two, etc. It looks great (and makes more sense than the Original ToiBocks) in the bathroom, if you’re looking for a place to, say, hide your masturbation lube or your tiny shower vibe. •Measures 9-1/4″ x 5″ x 4″ on the outside. Tissues and toys not included.
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Saturday, 21 February 2009
| 12:00 am
| Toys
This lovely lavender vibrator is sure to please the ursine lover in all of us! The Bear Necessities Elastomer Vibrator is shaped to look like a tiny purple bear licking a big clear, um, tree, yeah, tree. The Bear Necessities is what we call an in/out vibrator, meaning that the main shaft goes in while the little licking bear attends to things outside. The internal portion doesn’t just vibrate, but swivels around and around, really getting in there and stroking the vaginal walls and, of course, the G-spot (get it in the right spot, and it will rub the G-spot over and over, which is an awesome sensation, reminiscent of the rhythmic thrusts of sex). The external vibrations make the little bear’s tongues (oh? I didn’t mention there were two tongues? Yes, ladies, this is a fantasy bear made real!) wiggle like mad, looking for all the world as if he’s lapping away at the clit, which is adorable and feels quite tickly and wonderful.
Both the rotations and the vibration have their own sliding control in the base, so you can control them individually, which is nice. We do wish the Bear Necessities had more of a range, as you go from slow to really fast, with no in-between. The shaft is covered in tiny, soft, elastomer strands that at first we thought would add sensation, but none of our testers really noticed any added sensation, though we all agree they add a welcoming touch to the look of the toy.
The whole she-bang is made out of 100% phthalate-free elastomer, so it’s safe to use on your pink bits, and although it does arrive with a very slight plastic-smell, this is easy to banish with a quick rinse under the faucet (make sure you don’t get the controls wet, though!). It measures 4-1/2″ insertable (almost 10″ overall), a smidge under 1-1/2″ wide at the widest point. The way this unbearably cute vibrator does double duty, he will soon be a very special little friend indeed!
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