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May 21, 2013
During the three years I worked at a sex toy store, I did my best to help customers pick out body safe products, but it wasn’t easy. Some customers stared at the rows and rows of toys and asked me, “Why are there so many choices? How many styles of vibrators could you possibly need?” I told them that it’s not just the design that’s important in a sex toy, it’s the material(s). I explained the difference between porous and non-porous toys, stressing the importance of choosing something like silicone or glass for safe, hygienic use. Often they would nod at me attentively (although some could care less), and then inquire, “Well which ones are good then?”
This question was harder for me to answer. I usually emphasized Lelos, since they were some of the few toys we sold that I felt confident were actually pure silicone. But not everyone can afford a Lelo, and so I showed them the alternatives, which I was less sure about. I pointed out the ones that I had handled before that felt like silicone and didn’t have a rubbery smell. But we had so many toys, and whether or not they actually seemed to be pure silicone didn’t only vary by manufacturer or brand, they varied within manufacturers and brands as well.
One day I helped a woman who wanted a rabbit, and after I explained the importance of silicone, she said of course she wanted a silicone rabbit then because who wants a toy you can’t properly clean and sterilize? The nicer Lelo and Jopen options seemed a bit expensive to her at first, so I pulled the only other “silicone” rabbit off of the wall, some Cal Exotics one with beads, and when I opened the box, it smelled like chemicals. I didn’t work on commission and would never lie about a product, so I told her that I doubted it was actually silicone.
“But the box says it is, right?” She looked horrified when I told her that sex toys aren’t regulated, so there’s no way of knowing for sure, and that silicone shouldn’t have a funky smell.
To make things worse, the smelly Cal Exotics “silicone” rabbit wasn’t cheap either. Eventually she decided on the Lelo Ina, after admitting she’d been considering splurging on it anyways.
Unfortunately, this story didn’t always have such a happy ending. Although I was always honest and open about sex toy materials, I sold lots of questionable toys, and to my own disgust jelly toys that were even labeled as such. While I honestly don’t understand why someone would buy one even after I warned them that it could leak phthalates and chemicals into their body, ultimately it was their choice. They knew what they were buying, they were warned, and they still bought it.
While obviously the fact that companies even sell dangerous products is a huge problem, the problem gets even stickier when toys that are made of unsafe or porous materials are labeled as safe or pure silicone. Do you know what your sex toys are made of? You may think you own a silicone toy, but you can’t really be sure, since there is absolutely no regulation on the listing of materials on sex toy packaging. Some companies like Tantus and Lelo have strong reputations for being trustworthy when it comes to materials and business practices, but the industry is still unregulated.
This dilemma is dangerous for many reasons.
The first and perhaps the most severe is in the case of people who are allergic to latex, rubber, or some of the chemicals that could possibly be in a sex toy. It’s like this: say you’re allergic to dairy, and you buy a muffin mix labeled as dairy free, when it actually isn’t. You could become horribly sick. The same goes for sex toys. If you’re highly allergic to latex and you buy a toy labeled as a silicone that actually contains latex, you could have a serious allergic reaction.
But I don’t have a latex allergy, you may think, so why should I care? Because anyone who uses jelly or other unsafe sex toy materials can experience headaches, pain, burning, swelling, and even possibly chemical poisoning from phthalates as well as other irritating chemicals. Even if you aren’t very sensitive and show no signs of irritation, studies still show that exposure to phthalates can damage organs and possibly even cause cancer.
It is also vital to know if your toy is truly non-porous silicone if you want to safely share a toy with multiple partners. If you purchase a toy labeled as silicone that actually isn’t, you may think you can sterilize it, but you really can’t, and you could in fact spread bodily fluids or infections to partners.
Lastly, mislabeling toys isn’t only unethical because it could be hazardous to your health, it’s false advertisement. Would you want to pay gold prices for something that’s really copper? There is a huge difference in quality between silicone and rubber or silicone rubber mixes. Not only is silicone safer and more hygienic, it is also more durable and can last a very long time if taken care of properly. Rubber toys, on the other hand, can easily bend, break, change colors, and even melt into something resembling a blob from outer space.
Sex bloggers and educators have long known about safe materials and the misleading labels on sex toys, and many have tried using flame tests on toys to determine their actual composition. But it has recently come to light that flame tests aren’t always accurate. So the only way to know for sure what a toy is made of it to send it off to a lab to be scientifically tested. But this is expensive, and if we want an accurate database of verified safe sex toys and brands, we have to rally together.
This is where Dildology comes in. Started by Crista Anne, XVO, and Dangerous Lilly, Dildology is a new non-profit organization that will purchase sex toys at random from retailers, send them to a lab to be tested, and share and promote the results on their page and Wiki.
You may wonder why Dildology has decided to take things into their own hands, instead of pushing for government regulation. Here’s why, in Dangerous Lilly’s words:
“We can cry out for the industry to be regulated by our government, but really what will that get us? A higher priced dildo. A “luxury sex toy” that costs double what they do now, and their current costs are already prohibitive to many. Sex toys that take twice as long in development resulting in fewer, quality new sex toys being introduced to the market every year. When you bring the FDA to the party, you get mountains of paperwork, costly fees and annual 3-4 week-long audits to retain your FDA classifications. The better solution just might be to let the industry self-regulate, but with a little help from a neutral party.”
So, now that you’re all riled up, as I hope you are, here’s what you can do to help start a revolutionary change in the sex toy industry:
~Please donate to Dildology. (If you’re wondering if I’ve donated, yes, my broke ass has somehow shelled out $50, and I can’t wait to proudly wear my Dildology t-shirt when they reach their goal.) In addition to the warm, fuzzy feeling of knowing you helped changed the word one sex toy verification at a time, there are also various incentives for donating such as coupon codes and Dildology merchandise.
~Read the other blog carnival posts for more information about the necessity and potential of the organization.
~Spread the word about them on Twitter and Facebook, and vote for them on Offbeatr.
Dildology stands on their own, unaffiliated and unbiased. Dilgology won’t accept advertising money or toys straight from manufacturers to prevent conflicts of interests and to ensure accurate results. The majority of donations will go towards product testing, with the rest going to fundraising merchandise and incentives, and equipment for experiments and the development of educational resources.
I hope that someday soon, the sex toy industry will undergo a huge positive change, and people will be able to confidently purchase safe sex toys, thanks to Dildology and quality demanding consumers. Let’s do this people!
May 19, 2013
Yesterday was one of those days when I just felt like doing something a little “crazy.” While Jake, a friend, and I had drinks and lunch outside, I told Jake to pour ice water down my dress. He did, and that turned in to him telling me to put some in my underwear as well, which I sneakily (or maybe not so much?) did under the table.
On the trek from Yellow Jacket to our friend’s place after lunch, the Texas sun scorched our skin and the heat seemed to radiate out in waves from everything– from the street, from the sky, from the air. “Somehow there’s still some ice in my panties!” I said, pulling it out and rubbing it on my neck. Jake looked around, and when he didn’t see anyone, we snapped a photo of my ass hanging out of my panties by the railroad tracks as we walked.
When we got to our friend’s place, sweaty and tired, I pulled off my dress and declared that I would just hang out topless all day. And I did. At first it was just inside, but then we ended up sitting out on the front porch talking as the guys sipped beers. I’d never been outside topless like that before, and although I was sitting facing away from traffic behind a pillar most of the time, we were still on a main street, and the possibility of being seen was palpable.
It’s technically legal to be topless in Austin as long as you aren’t committing some other crime or “offending” people, which is subjective and could still be risky, but people in Austin are usually pretty chill about it. When one of my friends lived at a hippie co-op during college, they had a topless car wash outside to raise money. Some cops rolled up as they often would since the place was known as a hub for wild parties, but they didn’t do anything…except park and watch for awhile. I’ve also seen topless women at public places like Barton Springs, floating the river, and Eeyore’s Birthday.
At first I felt strange and a little vulnerable sitting out there, expecting people to stop, stare, or who knows…maybe even scream, “Hey, look at that topless girl sitting outside!” if they happened to see me. But nothing like that happened. No one stopped to look, no one gasped in horror, and I don’t think anyone other than a couple of people like a neighbor walking by even noticed, and the few that did didn’t seem phased.
I’m comfortable with my body, yet every once in awhile when someone was walking at an angle where they could possibly see me, I thought, should I go put on clothes? Is my body going to offend someone? Will I get in trouble? I never got to the point where I felt so uncomfortable that I went to get my dress, I just had passing moments of feeling a bit squeamish.
But it was also exciting and freeing as the breeze grazed my body without the confines of my sweaty dress sticking to me, and that feeling held more power over me.
While writing this post, I started to wonder why flashing is considered exhibitionism or taboo in the first place. Why are men are allowed to be topless while women generally aren’t?* Is it because women’s body parts are automatically sexualized, while men’s aren’t? Sure, women’s breasts can be sexual, but so can men’s chests and nipples.
When I asked Jake about it, he said that it’s just not something our society generally accepts, and the norms are followed so that people aren’t offended. He also pointed out that a lot of women probably don’t want to be topless in public for fear of ogling men, which is understandable.
But still, why are only women’s breasts considered potentially offensive? I think it has something to do with the hypocritical relationship between our sex filled media and contrasting expectations of purity and “modesty,” especially for women.
Advertising screams sex at us everyday, everywhere we go, on the streets, on TV, on the Internet. Buy this makeup and you will be desirable! Wear these flirty clothes; you need a flattering cut with Spanx underneath to feel truly beautiful! Get this deodorant, and women will bang down your door, dying to fuck you! Victoria’s Secret supermodels touch themselves in skimpy lingerie for all to see, but women are still sometimes arrested for breast feeding in public.
I could go on and on on this topic (and perhaps I will in another post,) but my point here is that it seems warped to me that when the media and advertising often use sexually suggestive content, it’s acceptable, but seeing a woman who is comfortable in her own skin, showing a natural part of her upper body in real life could be considered more offensive and possibly even illegal. And even if she isn’t topless, she risks being labeled a slut if she wears revealing clothing or expresses a sexuality different from the norm.
Even though I think our society’s attitudes about sex and nudity are contradictory and generally screwed up, as of now, they’re still a fact of life. Until people of any gender can walk about topless without possible arrest or at least shock factor, baring my tits is still exhibitionism, and so I suppose I’m a budding exhibitionist. And although I tend to shun labels, I don’t really mind this one.
Of course I had to document my wild day of “exhibition” for Dee’s Scavenger Hunt as well, even though I only had my phone camera. Does my underwear one count for Train Tracks as well?
*For writing simplicity I refer to “women” and “men” here, although a person’s gender doesn’t necessarily coincide with having or lacking breasts, and not everyone identifies as one of these two labels.
Jan 19, 2013
Photo of me by Steve DeMent Photography
Lately, I am all about bushes. I like the way mine looks, I like how they look on others, and I like the idea of them in general. Sexually, I love the way it captures my scent, and I enjoy having it played with and tugged on. I also like that it’s lower maintenance, and I often twirl it around absentmindedly, as if it were a beard. It makes me feel sexual, feminine, wild, natural, and free.
I must admit though, that my love of bushes is only a recent development. Up until last year, I was completely bare ever since I was 16, with the exception of a few days of stubble or letting it grow long enough to wax it all off. I never even thought to try a bush until Jake suggested that I grow one out to see how it looks. Although it felt a little weird at first, I liked the way it looked, if anything because it was so different, but also for the reasons I mentioned above. And now that a bush or at least some sort of style of hair has been my norm for about a year, I’ve been thinking a lot about my previous (mostly negative) attitudes toward pubic hair and why I always felt the need to shave before.
Some of the main theories explaining the popularity of going bare and brazilian waxing in the US are porn and Playboy, bathing suits and bikinis, wanting a “clean” look, an obsession with trying to look young, or pressure from men who supposedly have little girl fetishes.
While I can see how porn can cause pressure to look a certain way, in my case it wasn’t a factor in my decision to start shaving, since at that time I didn’t watch porn or read adult magazines. My early shaving days began with not wanting anything to show in a bathing suit, and I started with just my bikini line. For awhile this was enough, until I had my first steamy, semi-sexual make-out session with my boyfriend. We didn’t actually “go very far,” but when his hands roamed down over my panties, I remember thinking that I didn’t want him to see my hair, and I shaved it all off shortly after.
As far as the pressure to look young, that didn’t affect my early attitudes either, as I always wanted to look older, not younger, and I associated waxing with being mature. However, I did associate hairlessness with femininity starting at a very early age. I started shaving my armpits as soon as I started getting hair there in 4th grade because my girlfriend Jessica did, and she was one of those girls who was so outgoing, sure of herself, and “cool,” Shortly after, I began shaving my legs in 5th grade, after watching my babysitter’s teenage daughter sitting by the TV with a bowl of water, a razor, and some shaving cream. Looking back, starting to shave at age 9 or 10 seems very young (and most of my friends didn’t shave yet at the time), but I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s the norm now, as young girls seem to look more and more “mature” at a young age nowadays.
Once I began removing my pubic hair in High School, the idea that shaving or waxing, not bushes, was the way to look sexy was reinforced by my friends, as well as my cool college student nanny, who told me about how she paid a lot and went to many sessions to go get laser hair removal. She was one of my biggest role models at the time, and I never really thought to question why hair was something women needed to remove so badly; it all just seemed normal and the thing to do. I also remember seeing my Mom’s huge, untamed bush, and thinking that it was weird, and that she must not care about looking “sexy.” We didn’t really discuss sexuality openly since I was raised Catholic, so I never thought to ask her about pubic hair, what was normal or not, or anything like that.
In my case, going bare was a result of a mix of things but mainly the idea that shaving was feminine and sexy and the influence from friends or women I looked up to. I can only imagine the pressure for young girls in today’s society to shave, since now they have the added ease of access to porn, as well as the examples of pop culture, like Sex and the City and celebrities who promote Brazilian waxing. Although I think whether or not you shave should be up to you, I don’t think this pressure to look a certain way or to feel the need to shave to be sexy is healthy or natural. Another big issue is pressure solely from partners, which isn’t positive or healthy either if it’s not what you want.
So, what is the solution then? I know for me and many others it’s talking and thinking critically about society’s beauty standards, such as pressure to shave, as well as celebrating pubic hair by growing bushes and showing them off proudly in erotic photos. There has also been a resurgence of bushes and pubic styles in some porn as well as in fetish scenes, and many people think bushes are cool and “retro” looking now. I think this new variety and deviation from the standard is awesome, and I wonder if having a bush may even soon be the norm again. Trends come and go though, and I hope that women will take away the idea of self acceptance and choosing whatever is comfortable for them from this movement, rather than the idea of growing a bush just to be cool, to be different, or because someone on TV or their favorite porn start did it.
For others though, the answer to battling societal pressure to shave is to judge and vilify shaving and women who do it. I’ve heard a lot of comments that feminists don’t wax (or shouldn’t), that women only shave to satisfy their partner’s unhealthy obsession with looking pre-pubescent, and that shaving it all is gross and unnatural. I often hear bush comments at Bedpost Confessions, such as “I don’t shave because I don’t feel the need to look like a 12 year old girl.” This whole attitude really bothers me.
I understand that many women feel pressure to remove hair and that it may be “feminist” to have a bush instead, but pushing women to look any certain way isn’t helping, it’s just doing the same thing that patriarchal society is: telling people what they should or shouldn’t do to their bodies. It’s also presumptuous to judge people by their grooming habits and assume they’re doing it for certain reasons like to satisfy partners or to look like porn stars. Everyone has different sexual preferences, and if you think going bare is gross because it looks child-like, that’s fine, but you shouldn’t assume that everyone who shaves does it for that reason, and there’s no need for judging, condescending comments towards others’ personal choices.
For example, what about men who shave? Are they doing it because of societal, patriarchal pressure? Maybe some are, but many people do it because they like the clean, smooth feel and aesthetic. It is important to point out that shaving isn’t actually “cleaner” and can cause ingrown hair, infections, and may even make you more vulnerable to STIs, but still, my point is that many people do it for themselves, not to satisfy a partner or look like a porn star, and you should do whatever feels comfortable for you. Of course I do think it’s imperative to think critically about your own attitudes though and how they may be influenced by society, but ultimately it’s your personal decision and preference.
As free as I feel to have a huge, wild bush now, I will probably shave it all off again at some point. I like the way my vulva looks and feels in all sorts of ways now, with a bush, with a strip, bare, whatever; it’s just another hairstyle. And if I do shave it all off again, it’s definitely not going to be because my boyfriend is pressuring me to do so or to look young, it will be because I want to.
The most crucial thing to me in the topic of pubic hair (as well as other sexual and personal choices) is acceptance of diversity. I think it’s awesome to celebrate bushes and natural styles, but more importantly I think everyone should celebrate whatever option they chose and the personal power to do so. Open discussion of sexuality and societal pressure is critical, especially among teens and young adults, but I think we should stress that any choice is fine, not that you shouldn’t shave because it’s just subscribing to the norm, or that you should because it’s “sexier” or better.
Personally, I think all styles can be sexy, and I like this comment that Jake said when I asked him about his preference: “I don’t care if there’s hair or not, I’m just excited to see a vagina!”
Dec 3, 2012
Spoiler Alert: If you watch American Horror Story or Dexter and haven’t seen episodes from the latest seasons, you may want to skip this post or at least question #3.
1. Do you think that acting out a fantasy can sometimes cause damage to a relationship?
I’m sure it could, if someone involved isn’t comfortable with the fantasy or how it’s played out, but I think that can be avoided with open and honest communication before, during, and after acting out the fantasy. For me, fantasies are a fun and important way to keep things sexy and exciting.
2. Some couples role play their fantasies rather than introducing another person into the relationship to live out their fantasies. Do you think that this is an acceptable substitute?
Sure, why not? It all depends on how the people involved feel about it. I can see why some people would rather stick to role play and why others would rather have the real thing, and personally I’m open to both.
3. Is there a particular movie or TV series or character from a movie or TV series that you fantasize about?
Lately I’ve been fantasizing a lot about dark characters, specifically Kit/Tate from American Horror Story and Dexter Morgan. The Kit and Grace sex scene in Asylum drove me absolutely crazy. I love the idea of lusting after someone dark, and the danger involved in not knowing if they are a brutal killer or not. I also love scenes in movies/TV shows when the lovers accept each other no matter what their partner has done, and when Grace says, “I don’t care what you are,” right before they fuck…so hot! In Dexter’s case, when Hannah has sex with him right after he was going to kill her? Again, fucking hot! Tate’s character and appeal is more complicated, but I think it boils down to the fact that I think the idea of someone who is so evil yet still capable of love is a turn on as well. Oh yea, and Evan Peters completely covered in latex? That may have something to do with it…
4. Apart from the obvious things like child abuse, are there some things that are ‘off limits’ for a fantasy e.g. incest fantasies, age play, rape fantasies. Why/ why not?
No, not really. I think it’s fine to fantasize about whatever you want, especially because you can’t really control your thoughts/fantasies. You can control actions though, and I certainly have limits as far as what I’ll actually do.
5. What is the most taboo thing you have ever fantasized about doing?
Rape fantasies are probably some of the most taboo ones that I have. Also, fucking serial killers/dangerous men/dead people(as in ghosts, not corpses)/aliens/ beasts/the “devil,” to name a few…
6. Tell us about a fantasy that you have that you don’t ever see yourself actually acting out. Why do you think you will never act it out?
I can’t think of a fantasy I have that I wouldn’t even think of acting out at the moment.
7. Have you ever pretended the person you were having sex with was someone else without telling them?
Not that I can recall.
8. Have you ever tried to make a fantasy a reality only to have it fail miserably? What happened?
I’ve had some situations when I’ve tried to act out a fantasy, and it didn’t happen exactly how I wanted, but I wouldn’t go as far as saying anything has failed miserably.
Bonus: Tell us about your most cherished fantasy. Did you ever live it out? Please give us all the juicy details because that is the kind of people we are.
Honestly I have a lot of different fantasies, and I’m not sure which is my most cherished. I definitely have more fantasies that I haven’t lived out yet than ones that I have, but that’s mostly because I’m constantly coming up with new ones…
Nov 21, 2012
Stretched out before me are naked women on all fours, asses in the air, heads down, in a line. I don’t know who they are or where they came from, nor do I care. All I know is that I like the view, a landscape of curving fleshy hills, hips shoved together, open, willing holes, and perched feet. Jake, towering like a God with his long curly hair and toned muscles, stands motionless nearby, awaiting my commands.
I approach a curvy bottom, attracted to her pink, dangling lips, and the mess of long, dark brown hair that covers her face near the ground like a thick curtain.
“Give her pretty little pussy 3 licks,” I say, pointing.
Her thighs twitch as he approaches, and he moves his tongue slowly, taking his time. When he’s done, she stays completely still, and so does he.
“Now, beg him to fuck you,” I say, as I run my hand between her cheeks. I move to Jake, and continue, “And you, spank her until you really believe that she wants it.”
Her voice rises like smoke from below, and starts as a soft whisper, “Please, fuck me.” The thud from Jake’s palm echoes her words, and she begins to ask louder, “Please, please, fuck me.”
“Harder!” I order, as his hand strikes each side, his hits gradually escalating in intensity.
It’s not long before her gorgeous, supple ass is bright pink, her legs are quivering, and she’s screaming, pleading, crying for his cock. I wait until I see moisture trickling down her legs.
“Now, fuck her.”
I growl as his hardness parts her swollen folds, and they both grunt in unison as his hips slap against her flushed skin.
“Now, stop,” I say after only a few moments, knowing she needs much more, knowing she’s aching to be filled and fulfilled.
“Get up and come fuck me like a good little slut,” I say, and like an eager puppy she kneels in front of me, wasting no time before she’s licking and pushing fingers into me like she’s searching for a much needed treat. I haven’t seen her face until now, and I admire her bright green eyes when she glances up to see how I’m responding as her mouth is buried. She wiggles her ass, and I pet it softly, sinking into the feelings of her hot lips, her slippery tongue, and her greedy fingers.
“Who wants to get fucked next?” I gasp loudly, trying to retain control as my legs shake and my breathing sputters.
A chorus of desperate voices cries out, “Me, please, me!”
“Start with her,” I say, pointing to the nearest woman, “and then keep going down the row, all of them.”
I watch as Jake moves from one to the next, and with each gasp, each quiver as the hot head of his cock enters, I fall deeper into my own pleasure. Women at the end of the line grow impatient, shaking and dripping, begging for him to hurry so they can have a turn.
I close my eyes and enjoy the sounds, the heavy breathing, the moaning, the screams of ecstasy. My woman’s tongue moves faster, and she pushes her wet cunt onto my leg, and groans as her now plump clit rubs against my bare skin. My pussy grips her skilled fingers, and suddenly I feel my urgent need.
“Do you want me to come on you?” I ask her, already knowing her answer.
“Yes, please,” she replies instantly. “Come on my face, on my breasts, in my mouth,” she says as she pulls her lips off, my juices smeared all over her beautiful cheeks, her fingers still pulling and rubbing me frantically.
I scream and push her out, and she tilts her head back, mouth open, as my wetness showers her. When I’m done, she licks the remaining liquid from my thighs, her hands gripping my legs, her hair drenched. I grab her by the chin roughly, pulling her face up until she’s close, gazing into my eyes.
“Do you want to get back in line now my dear; do you want that hard cock inside of you?”
“Yes, oh please god yes,” she says, touching herself at the thought. I give her the go ahead and she crouches at the end of the row, sticking her ass up to match all of the others.
Jake’s still making his way down the line like I told him, and the ones who have already been fucked lay collapsed in a heap, arms and legs tangled. I walk slowly toward them, and they gaze up at me attentively. I rub one of my bare feet along a curvy blonde woman’s chest, and she swallows one of my toes, sucking gently. They all stare at me, waiting.
“Who wants another turn?” I ask to no one in particular.
“Me!” they all answer anxiously.
“You’ll have to work for it,” I tease, and they surround me, pleading with their bodies, every limb busy trying to compete for my attention. I sigh as someone’s fingers press inside, and a mouth circles my clit, teeth biting my nipples, tongues in both ears, feet covered by hot, damp lips and hands caressing every morsel of my skin.
After coming again and again, after I’ve covered them all with my sweat and come and sex, I send them back to the line, where Jake’s still busy. I take a break to give more orders, like fuck her mouth, now take her ass, now grip her neck, move to the next, now finger the pussy on each side of you as you thrust, now rub your cock between her breasts.
I touch myself as I watch, and after they’ve all been fucked, I ask, “Now, who wants his come?”
They all shout a different answer:
“No, on my big tits!”
“On my wet cunt”
“Please, on my pretty face”
“Me, on my ass”
“Inside my ass!”
“Please, in my mouth!”
They crowd around him, gaping holes, perked nipples, thrashing limbs, fighting, entwined together like a net.
I see the woman, my favorite, who so willingly drank my come like a delicacy, and I lean over and rub her head, nodding at Jake towards her. She opens her mouth again, eyes wide as he spurts into her parted lips.
When he’s done, he’s still hard, his cock trembling.
“Get back in line,” I demand, and they quickly form a new row, sticking their asses as high as possible, scrambling to get a spot close to where I stand.
I look at Jake and smile. He can’t make a move without my word, his dick is mine. He raises his eyebrows ever so slightly, questioning.
“Yes,” I answer out loud, rubbing myself roughly, “again!”