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8 posts categorized "101 Uses of a Vibrator"

December 11, 2007

101 Uses of a Vibrator: #9

It’s Secret Santa time once again in the office. What do you buy:

  • The detestable co-worker who always finds the time to stretch out non-work related tasks and steals all your ideas.
  • The female office crush that gives you a hard on?
  • Your boss (loved or loathed)
  • The office lazy butt

Answer:

A vibrator!

The bigger, the better.

November 21, 2007

101 Uses of a Vibrator: #7

Stepping over the line during the heated argument, for the usual multiple choice selection:

a) He doesn't call.
b) He calls whenever he has a hard on.
c) He conveniently waits to get back to you, after the event deadline.
d) He reappears after a disappearance that rivals Amelia Earhart'ss disappearance.

"You's€™re being unreasonable"
"Me? I made plans and you didn'€™t call but you call when it's convenient for Mr Doodle."
"Wish you wouldn't call it that."
"How right you are...more like IT. Convenient for Mr It, dangling between your legs."
"There you go again."
(roll my eyes, BP= 180/120, pulse = ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-fucking-boom!)
"You're a cunt!"
"What did you call me?"
"One more time for the dummies: CUNT."
"Well! You're-"
Pressing END is easy and it's easier changing the voicemail greeting to: Hi, I'm unable to take your call right now, please leave your details and I'll return your call. For the gentleman trying to get through -bless his LITTLE cotton jockstrap: Keep on calling, Mr Cuntface.
Drop the cell phone in my lap, in the warming triangle of my crotch, and lay back to enjoy the vibe fantastic as his rage pulses in his digits...
Ring, ring, ring (to the tune of Black Dog); the polyphonic vibrato pleases and tickles, unleashing a sticky torrent.
Ring, ring, ring, all the way to the dead zone to start over
Laying back, legs further apart
Bzzz-Bzzz-Ring-Ring--Bzz-Bzz
Bzzz
(Oooh...)
Bzzz

(What does this button do, ahhh?)

Visualizing his face turn purple; his juicy lips curl, and his frantic fingers enter the RSI Zone. Digits creaking under the strain; visualizing his breathy mutter, pick up, bitch!€™
Head on the pillow, clit aflame.
Ring,ring,ring€
Bzzz
Bzzz

101 Uses of a Vibrator, the seventh:

Don’t get mad (and smash your cell phone), and enter his mindfuck "I didn't mean to do it, baby", apologetics: hang up and cum like a sado-bitch.

November 14, 2007

101 Uses of a Vibrator: #6

Bzzzzzzz

Bzzzzzzz

(insert: kaleidoscopic light display)

Pulsing clit, thought sirens, endless phantasmagoria, and XXX rated filmstrips, featuring limbs, tongues, sweaty bodies….

Transformation complete: self directed porn vision.

101 Uses of a Vibrator, the sixth:

“Welcome to Vibe side…” or “That’s not a light saber; THIS is a light saber (buzz---Bzzzz---BZZZ!)”

November 12, 2007

101 Uses of a Vibrator: #5

It’s 11:30 in the morning, but feels like 9:05.
The copier is jammed.
Phone rings nonstop.
Your gnarly boss is annoying the shit out of you.
Your PC constantly freezes.
Your head feels like it’s going to explode…

Reach into your drawer, and relieve the tension…

Boss: “What’s that? Is that what I think it is? You can’t use that, in here.”
Me: “Why not?” (rubbing the tip of a 12 inch fluoro vibe over my aching temples)
Boss: “Others may be offended…um…”
Me: “But I’ve got a migraine….it’s killing me!”
Boss: “Um..err…I think you had better go home. If you’re not well, you need rest..”
Me: (You think I need an asylum don’t you? Sucked in!)

101 Uses of a Vibrator, the fifth:

Some say sex cures headaches. I say, bring on the vibe!

November 10, 2007

101 Uses of a Vibrator: #4

Pre Hot Date Jitters:

Fancy arsed sheer stockings $20
Pretty dress for that special date $200 (or $50 if you’re on a tight ass budget)
Shoes $1000 (okay, all right, I’m fantasizing about Manolos)

Optional:
Energy used for the DYI beauty spa, wax and tweeze: $20
Professional Day Spa $100.00-$500.00
(Internet usage, that’s if you net date: a percentage of your home electricity bill, and cell phone running cost)

Aftermath:

Not so hot ‘date’ (if you go Dutch): $50.00-100.00
Self Esteem injured during a depressing date: the total of all the above, in dollar amounts, and then some.
Self Help Book: $20.00 (better off buying from a used book sale, or better yet, a yard sale)
Therapist: $100

For all the above: MasterCard, VISA, AMEX, Diners Club, and a chunk of your self esteem.

101 Uses of a Vibrator, the fourth:

For the sweat infused symphony of orgasm, as you trip the vibe fantastic with your Jack Rabbit, that does not fret about your gnarly bikini line and spiky legs?

Priceless…(Excluding the price tag on the vibe of choice. Such a small price to pay, considering)


101 Uses of a Vibrator: #3

Zits
+
Saggy tits
+
Lop sided cocks
+
Half hearted orgasms
+
Facials with the consistency of Continental yoghurt
+
Over acting rivaling the Art of Jack Palance.
+
Chintz covered beds
+
Trailer park décor

= Amateur Porn

101 Uses of a Vibrator, the third:

Locking myself away in my pristine, and perhaps absurd, realm of erotic fantasy populated by the symmetric and imaginative hedonists, as the soft silicone phallus whirs, and whips my cream to endless orgasms, well away from the above mentioned freak show.

101 Uses of a Vibrator: # 2

I typed my secret. The pristine screen relayed the demented wish.

“Let’s role play. You seem to prefer intense femmes. You can be Severin…”

My human toy...

He snapped up the idea in a flash, or as quickly as a computer permitted. He, a learned man, boasting fine degrees collected over the years, confessed his penchant for literary deviations.

“Wanda Dunajew is my favorite character.”

My panties trapped heat faster than a solar panel, and would - no doubt - overload my inner circuitry.

There, within my unadorned room, I envisioned earthy fireplaces and intricately carved furnishings from fragrant trees: oak, mahogany, walnut…ahhh…breathe in, breathe out. Zen.

I relayed the image, of him kneeling on the floor - naked.

Excited, he urged me to expand the scene. He, the virtual director, seated half a world away with a hard on the size of the Eiffel tower (that he’d like to use, “slide it over the cleft of your ass.”), waited patiently to be transplanted to an icy room, much like the nouveau ice bars that are cropping up in the world’s capitals.

“But I’d surely freeze in an ice bar…”

“You’re meant to be cold. I’d permit you a mat, to protect your…nether regions.”

“What will you wear?” His question arrived after a full minute.

By this time, my panties reached their osmotic limit; the contents of my arousal slimed my inner thighs, and my pulse quickened.

“Something that discreetly hides my nakedness…”

“More, please more…”

“A coat…”

“Yes…naked beneath a coat.”

The icy vista within my fantasy contrasted against his nakedness. He’d kneel, his cock nuzzling his thighs, and request my attention (“would mistress shift her derriere to my mid section…yes…thank you mistress.”). I’d perch my ass on his flesh, cross my legs and open my book of tainted sex tales, reciting subversive paragraphs for his pleasure…offering him the fragrance of my head to toe, mink coat.

“Mmm,” I began, squeezing my soaked inner thighs together, “head to toe mink…or chinchilla…”

“W-What? I don’t know…”
“Don’t know what?”

“Fur? It is…cruel…” that, and he was a lifelong member of PETA, with a penchant for Wanda Dunajew. Oxymoron central.

“Fuck Houston, we have a massive problem…”

“Excuse me?”
“You surely don’t expect me to wear a poly coat…!”
And they were mostly like this; he was the tenth potential candidate.

101 Uses of a Vibrator, the second:

“Four wheels may move the body, a two wheeled Harley may move the soul, but a vibrator can move the earth when the object of your fascination disagrees with your animal hide fetish in the century of political correctness, where your fantasy becomes a bone of contention.”

101 Uses of a Vibrator: # 1

It began with his penetrating eyes; the raw whorls within his onyx irides bespoke desire, or so I thought. They’d wander off into the sunset, or in the case of today, into the overcast sky.

I’d often explore his hidden potential (read: pussy preference). Shaved, waxed, trimmed or Amazon chaos. The short distance between us maintained the safety switch controlling my fuses, so much so, that I prized my sexual sobriety; what he views as routine, his hands pushing and pulling handles, I valued as manual talents. The array of deft clit strokes, intricate vaginal corkscrews, and triple – fuck – axles, pleased the fiendish phantasm within me.

One problem arose: I couldn’t envision his cock in my pussy. It was as though a barrier arose. I couldn’t figure it. Intuition is silent, and speaks the loudest.

I strode up to the counter – aghast.

His sturdy forearms bear the mark. Fresh regrowth. Professional cyclists wax their legs; it minimizes air friction, but one’s forearms?

If he stresses about his forearms, then he’ll think my cunt a disgrace. Then again, my deepest fear peered over the edge; you’re fooling yourself girl, if you think he likes the merest sniff of pussy.

“I’ll have one to go,” I said. I’ll settle for a coffee, because it’s not as though I have a chance at his cock.

Once again, I settle for the drawer and its secret contents:

101 uses of a vibrator: numero uno.

“When the object of your fascination is gay, you can -at least - fantasize the opposite.”

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