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Cover Up

♦ He said he was too ill for sex. He’d hurt his foot in the rain and his stomach in a Mexican restaurant (I blame the greedily-gulped wine rather than the food). I told him I was tired anyway. My sister had just been shipped back to the Old Country and I’d spent too long browsing pens and paper and pins.

It was hot. I was hot. Summer seems replaced by stickiness and no sun.

I stripped off my clothes down to my underwear and lay back on his bed, cuddling my new owl cushion and flicking interestedly through The Encyclopaedia of Unusual Sex Practices. Absorbed in coprophagy, child marriage and corporal punishment, my flushed skin cooled and my body relaxed.

He came to give me some affection and noted my all-but-bared body with interest.

“I’d fuck you right now if I were feeling better.” He said, with a mixture of lust and disappointment.

We moved into my room to play a boardgame, but it didn’t quite turn out that way. I decided that the short journey required more clothes, especially if we wanted to be sociable and leave the door open. So I donned the khaki jumpsuit from our little military coup the other day. It’s light and not fussy and seemed perfect.

I’d have thought I’d be less alluring to Crush with more clothes on, but no. Covering up just made him all the hornier, it turned out. He crawled over me as I lay on the bed, breasts trapped by poppers that were so easily undone, skin tightly dressed in smooth fabric. He ran his hands over the khaki and ripped the poppers apart.

He pushed me down and swiftly pulled the top of the jumpsuit from my body. I removed the bra straps from my shoulders and he flipped down the cups, exposing my breasts to him. He smothered them in kisses before leaping up and tugging at the bottom half of the jumpsuit.

I toyed with him, struggling here and there, obstructing his efforts, playfully trying to resist him. But I wanted it too badly to really protest.

He whipped off his trousers and rubbed the fat head of his cock against my pussy. I was already slightly slick, but he still had to take things slowly, pushing his cock in and out, adding a centimetre of length at a time until suddenly my cunt resisted no longer, he was inside me and could fuck me with abandon.

And so he did.

He moved like an animal as I writhed underneath him. I bucked my hips and watched his feral movements in amazement. His haunches rocked back and forth, driving his shaft deep into me, his hands gripping me possessively. I moaned and wriggled and soon he was coming loudly within me, spilling himself into me, spending all his little energy.

He collapsed, head on my breasts and I stroked his hair. We’d already reclaimed the room, indeed bed, my sister had borrowed for the week: a week of late nights and camaraderie but not one single bit of sex to speak of.

Well, ill or not, tired or not, it was all better now. ♦

Family Planning

♦ My sister will be visiting me tomorrow and staying for about a week or so. I’m telling you this for two reasons: A) to let you know that the blog may well be on hiatus for the next week or so as I’ll be too busy having fun and B) I fancy having a bit of a ramble about it.

I’ve been tidying my room ready for her to stay in it (since I sleep with Crush in his room) and that got me thinking about my attitude to my family regarding this blog and sex in general.

Now, my family (by which I mean my dad and my sister) don’t know about my blog (heck, neither do my friends). They don’t know I review sex toys (one friend, my housemate Alt, knows that) and they don’t even know I use them (some of my friends tell legendary tales of parties involving items from The Drawer, even if it is actually now two drawers plus lingerie). They don’t know I’m kinky and they don’t know I’m bi. Or rather, I haven’t told them.

They basically know nothing about my sex life except who I’m dating, who I have dated and that we sleep in the same bed. Except my sister, who knows about the whole Fractal break-up thing and therefore knows I was in an open relationship then.  She knows it’s how Crush and I started, she had to, to help me through the whole messy business. She was shocked, a bit, but took it in her stride, bless her.

And that’s all.

I moved house just recently and my dad came to help with his car because he is an angel. But I made very sure to pack all of my sex toys and my few kinky porn mags into a massive hold-all (man, that thing really can hold all!) and put my sex books in a separate box and let him touch neither of those containers in any way. Just like the last time I moved, in fact.

He’s a bit of a fuddy-duddy, my dad, and we don’t talk about that kind of thing. I’m not an idiot, I’m aware my parents must’ve had sex, maybe even – gasp – for pleasure, but there’s no hint of that at all in his personality. You know how people tend to give off cues that they’re OK talking or even thinking about sex, that they’re open about that sort of thing? Nothing. So, I hide it all because I really can’t imagine him reacting in a “cool dad” way about it. I’d expect bemusement at best.

So, what am I going to do about my sister living in my room for a week or so? My sex books (visual and not) are happily in my bookshelf, my sex toys (whilst supposedly living in The Drawers) are strewn about my desk, my lubes are lined up on the chest of drawers, my handcuffs are fixed to the radiator (classic), my hitty things are stood in the corner and my blog is the very first link on my Opera speed dial if she uses my computer. It’s all right there.

I’m sure that last time she stayed with me, which was ages ago now, I hid it all very carefully, but this time, things have changed. She’s really matured over the years, she accepts my casual hints towards liking women without comment and she’s a strong advocate in her own right of equality in sex and gender. I think she might have even known what “cissexual” meant before I did. She’s an awesome girl and I’m actually certain, despite worrying when I was younger, that she’ll accept me no matter my sexuality or kinks or what have you. I’m not scared of exposing an “innocent young thing” like her any more because I’m proud of who I am and, frankly, treating her like a child would be insulting.

So I’ll tidy my room to make it nicer for her, I’ll put those stray dildos back in their drawers, but the books will stay where they are, the lubes will be lined up neatly because that’s where they live, the toys will be there if she looks for them and the blog will be on that speed dial if she’s curious enough to click it.

And I’m OK with that.

And if she does click the blog and does read this, I’m OK with that too. If you’re reading this, sister, hi! I hope you don’t mind. If you want to pretend you didn’t find this, that’s totally fine, it’s your choice and I understand. And if you want to talk about it, hell, I’d love that. It’d be awesome and I’m happy to explain whatever you’d like. Don’t be afraid to ask me anything. Always.

So, that’s my family planning, really. My sister’s earned a peek into the ‘adult’ side of me if she cares to look for it. I’m proud of her. My dad, weirdly enough, is now the one I care about corrupting or confusing. I doubt that’ll change, but that’s OK.

Anyway, I thought it was interesting to look at how I change aspects of my personality and sexuality to suit two different members of my family, to talk about how much of myself I’ll hide or show and why. And I hope you thought so too! What about you? What do you hide or show to your loved ones?

See you next week! ♦

Witticisms: Sexual Morality

♦ I came across this absolutely fantastic and apt quote about sex and our attitudes towards it by a Norwegian writer. Heck, you all know me enough by now to know I think this way, but it just sums it up so well and I really think it bears repeating. On sexual morality and why it is mostly bull… ♦

People speak of ‘sexual morality,’ but that is a misleading expression. There is no special morality for sex. No matter what you do with yourself, whether you go to bed with girls or with boys, and no matter what it occurs to you to do with them or with yourself, no moral rule applies to that sphere of activity other than the principles that govern every aspect of life: honesty, courage, common humanity, consideration. – Jens Bjørnboe

Ten Hut! – 100 Orgasms

♦ “Close your eyes,” I said and he did. He lay back on the bed and shut them firmly, anticipating, always eager to obey when he knew I had something planned. I did have something planned, even if that plan had come together in the space of five minutes in the next room, rooting through The Drawers for kink and kit.

We’re having our housewarming this weekend and it’s fancy dress, because fancy dress is fucking fantastic. I’ve been making a military beret for mine and something clicked in my head when I saw it lying there, discarded. I’d been thinking lacy and stockings, but now…

I shut the door behind me and straddled him at the hips.  When I allowed him to open his eyes he saw me dressed in the green beret and a very military-like khaki jumpsuit buttoned to the collarbone. I carried a crop under my arm, swagger stick style. I swear his eyes almost bulged from his head.

He was dressed only in his trousers and he looked beautiful. I’d already been impressed earlier that day by how gorgeous his arms looked: swimmer’s muscles, lean and lithe but strong.

You’ll have to forgive me. I may say it myself, but what he said to me and what I said to him and the roleplaying was so fucking hot. But I forget. My waves of orgasms are too good at wiping out the coastal villages of my memory. The details merge, the lines become brush strokes of eroticism on an Impressionist painting.

So, yeah, I forget stuff.

But the night was swimming with “Yes, Ma’am”s and permission asked and occasional cheek given. I enjoyed ordering him around and domming shit up and punishing insubordination where I found it, rewarding good behaviour too.

I unbuttoned the top of the khaki jumpsuit to show my breasts, naked but for a fishnet bodystocking and, supporting them, an almost Steampunk “bra belt”. My nipples poked through the black fishnet and I leant in towards his face. He sucked on my left nipple with ardour and I gasped and ground into his body beneath me.

Before I knew it, I was surprising myself with an orgasm. My grinding into him wasn’t even involved! This was all from his attention on one of my nipples and I inwardly praised my body as I shuddered on top of him.

Military-style banter that I so wish I could remember followed. Trust me: fucking hot. Crush respectfully suggested we try the experiment again to see if we could reproduce those results and I agreed, but this time I demanded to lie on my back.

He took my nipple in his mouth again and he began to suck, but my nipple wouldn’t be so easily swayed this time. No matter. As he sucked hard I began to rub my crotch over my jumpsuit and, not that he knew that, my black PVC thong underneath. I rubbed furiously, so turned on by his desire and the sheer fucking hotness of it all. Soon I was shuddering, a second orgasm rippling through me.

Now Crush was bold with lust and, as we switched places again, asked me if he could spank me.

Well, I was in charge as his Commanding Officer, so what to do? But a filthy thought occurred. I quite like the idea of hurting a man, something he might not necessarily like, as a form of payment by him to get something he really wants. I’m not sure what it is about it. Perhaps the idea that his lusts have overtaken him so?

In any case, I offered the price of five pinches of his nipple for an undefined period of spanking me. He accepted nervously and I began, gently, to pinch him. I brusquely told him to count and he did. But he tried to be cheeky, tried to count three when it was two. So I started again. He counted the fourth pinch before I’d actually done it, so guess what? I started again.

This time there were no mistakes and I dismounted him, leaning forward on hands and knees as he spanked me with the red paddle. Sometimes I hate that paddle. Sometimes, as you’ll see, I love it. But right now it was a hard one to take.

Take it I did, though.

Now naked, he sat on the edge of the bed and I produced my black metal handcuffs from the little pile of toys I’d brought in. I set them down and, hot from our exertions, stripped the khaki jumpsuit from my body. Now he saw the thong and the full glory of my bodystocking as its netting covered my sticky-hot curves.

The hat, I noticed, fell some time during the spanking. Now it was pure kinkwear, but we kept up our roles nonetheless. My geek society would be proud. :P

I opened the cuffs, managing to hook them into my fishnet on the way. Sigh. Unhooking them, I instead attached them to my intended target. I grabbed them by the chain and hoicked his arms above his head, scratching at his chest and back and eyeing him fiercely.

Letting go, I made him scoot up the bed and knelt between his legs, bringing my beloved Tango vibe with me. I placed it between my labia, cushioned by them and kept in place by my thong and thighs. I turned it on and felt it throb. I kissed my way up Crush’s body, crawling seductively, reaching his cock and…

…running my tongue playfully a centimetre above his shaft as if licking, but not. A tease. A torture.

The kisses marched up his chest and neck before I turned and swooped back down on his cock, licking for real this time, making love to him with tongue and lips. I was feral, enthusiastic, I moaned when he leaked pre-come and writhed back and forth, managing to rock against the vibrator nestled in my folds. I came once, twice as I licked fervently and then collapsed on his cock.

I offered to let him fuck me, right then and there. But Crush was on task. He knew I had a goal to reach and figured one more towards it before moving on couldn’t hurt. He asked me to carry on licking and sucking and coming on my bullet vibe, but this time he wanted some dirty talk. And, narcissist that he is, heh, dirty talk about him.

So I told him as I licked him about how hot he makes me, how sexy he looks, his gorgeous body, his thick cock and I licked and sucked. I wriggled and turned up the rumble on my vibrator until I came again, moaning on his cock, gagging myself with his erection.

The finest part of the evening was still to come though. And I’m not even talking about the penetration. No, while that was fantastic, I think I liked the next part better. Remember I said sometimes I love the red paddle?

He wanted to use it on me again, this time while I continued to use the vibrator on myself. I was only too quick to oblige.

It was interesting how through the whole thing, I was still in charge. Even when I asked him what he wanted, even when I shuddered under his hand as he spanked me. It was strange, although it shouldn’t be, and wonderful. I was his superior officer, he a lowly subordinate and I was using him for my kicks. Simple as. Whether he spanked me or not, it was my will and I could easily have him court marshalled in a snap, naturally.

I discarded the ridiculously-named “bra belt” and the thong and leant forward on the bed. He spanked me as I toyed with my clit using the vibrator and for a while it was much the same as the first spanking. Then the rumbling on my clit began to kick in and, as I worked myself towards another orgasm, I found myself wanting more and more and MORE.

“Harder,” I begged and Crush obliged. “Harder,” I cried and he hit harder still. With each gain in arousal I wanted more force, more pain. Soon I was coming hard and Crush was pounding on me as hard as he could. I had never taken this much force for this long before and I kept it up as I rolled into another fantastic climax. I was out of breath, sweating, shaking, I was full of the most wonderful feelings and sensations. I collapsed forward and turned onto my back, gazing at my beautiful lad with wide eyes.

“I love you,” I said, breaking character momentarily.

“I love you too,” he replied.

The sex that followed was frantic and amazing. Once I’d warmed to the large cock inside me, I told him he could go as hard or soft as he liked. I think he tried to teach me a lesson and soon I was bouncing, shrieking, revelling in the wonderful pleasure/pain of his rough thrusts. He came inside me after a time and we flopped next to each other, spent… ♦

Bruising

10/100

A Purring Machine – 100 Orgasms

♦ I’m doing a little project that was suggested by the wonderful Bondara sex shop thanks to a very serendipitous misread of a title online. What project is this? Well, only to have 100 orgasms in 10 days and write some sexy things about my experiences .

It sounded ridiculous at first and then I thought, hey, that’s only ten a day. It’s totally doable and weirdly intriguing. So I mentally signed myself up. I hadn’t planned to start until the weekend but then I noticed: it’s apparently National Orgasm Day today. How could I not start today?

So, I shall be writing a series of different things about what I get up to in my quest for roughly ten orgasms a day. This blog post is the first. I don’t have a particular long-term plan in my head for this little series, as I’m quite looking forward to seeing what my orgasms inspire in me, what comes out if I go in with an open mind and a blank sheet.

Anyway, below is a little bit of poetry based on orgasms number one and two of 100: a wake-up wank on a dozy morning. Please let me know what you think!  2/100 ♦

Sleep seeps into my bones
Like hot water into a sinking teabag
My face is fire, eyes heavy, mind a cartwheel
Of wheeling bodies and sandbags

I haul myself to solitude, away from the buzz
Trudge and slump
My idle hand seeks to make a plaything of me
Hisses between white hills and grey cloud cover
To a slumbering country of pinks and troughs
Where it plays
Staccato rhythms, the lark ascending
My middle finger circles, a motorist on a starting handle
A dynamo whirring
Cranking, shooting a Tesla coil hum through my wires
Static shivers along once-sleeping skin

Or perhaps I play
The fireman to my traction engine
The stoker of my coals
I feed the furnace, steam seeps between my thighs
The boiler of my cunt builds and sends
Hot, damp power through my body
White fills my vision
My body shudders and shakes, reawakened
Reborn, renewed, replenished
Bolts fly from their housings
An engine explosion
A singing, ringing crescendo of steam and smoke and white-hot metal
A hissing hot leak

Fingerprints dance over sodden skin
An aftershock blooms large and causes
Tender flesh to tremble again
A second spike

Lightning: a modern Prometheus cries “Live!”
The fog of sleep lifts
Dawn hits and my nerves turn to busy industry
I wake for the first time since
Opening my eyes
And trundle, alert, a purring machine

Tease, Tease, Tease

♦ Time for another drawing for Sinful Sunday! This is another one that was drawn a little while ago. In fact, longer than the last one! I’m usually terrible at remembering when I drew things, so how do I know when this was done? Simple really, that’s me and Fractal.

Yup! Now, I have to say right now that that is not the most accurate drawing of me in the world (sorry to disappoint, potential stalkers!). It’s got my scar, but it’s just not right in terms of body shape or my face, really. Hooray for idealism! I could be wrong, but Crush agrees.

I did genuinely own that outfit (still have the garterbelt), though, and the scenario is, shall we say, not too different from many that occurred in real life. I am, as always, a sub who switches. Once again, please click to embiggen, if you’d like, and let me know what you think! I hope you like it, feel free to let me know if it inspires any nice thoughts… ♦

It’s always tease, tease, tease
You’re happy when I’m on my knees

Progress

♦ The both of us naked, I found my face pressed into his stomach and my arse being caressed by his rough palms. I had already slowly stripped him of his clothes and stroked his soft thighs. He had already grinned and laid back as I ran my fingers over his oh-so-silky cock. Now I planted kisses on his belly and flank as he turned caressing and light strokes into firm pats that threatened solid swats.

The spanking began in earnest, though our positions stopped too much force, and he made sure to stroke my behind lovingly between each blow. I liked that. It ramped up the anticipation and kept it intimate and somehow more filthy. More calculated, perhaps.

He snuck his free hand around to my clitoris and teased at me lightly, again hampered by the angle. Seeing a better strategy, he told me I should rub myself instead and keep rubbing until he said otherwise. I love to be made to touch myself beyond what I’d normally inflict on myself. I love the threat of punishment if I let up even for one moment, no matter my wishes.

So I started to rub. I plucked my clitoris into pleasure as he started to put his usual force into his spanks, hitting me hard but still giving me a comforting stroke in between each. My masturbating became more frantic with my rising excitement and so did his stroking of my bare behind; he now squeezed and grabbed a little as he stroked, almost possessive in his actions.

I was close to coming and begged out loud for release.

“May I come please, sir?” I said, adding the “sir” out of my own desire to be subordinate.

He leant into my ear and whispered a hasty “yes” to me, allowing me to relax into my climax, making me shudder with pleasure and release of not only tension, but built-up emotion too.

Of course, when I was done, it’s not like I could just stop touching myself. I had orders, a fact he seemed to enjoy reminding me of.

“That’s right, keep touching yourself,” he hissed as the spanking continued. I allowed the tender, heightened feeling of my sex to carry me along and soon I hit another orgasm, making me gasp and moan. The shock dying down, I asked if I could stop and he relented at last.

My recovery didn’t and couldn’t last long: he pulled at my legs, flipping me over onto my back. I was balanced awkwardly on a lump of duvet, but I didn’t care. I just wanted him inside me.

He pushed his cockhead against me, but my wet cunt offered little resistance and he soon sank in deep. I had wanted this this evening, but thought my earlier outburst of emotions had ruined my chances, so I was so, so glad to be getting what I wanted anyway.

He was, as usual, a little too big for comfort, which I absolutely love. I asked him for it slow but hard and deep, so that I could feel every delicious flash of feeling, every gorgeous millimetre of his cock opening me up, driving to my depths.

He thrust slowly into me, but getting that little bit faster with each stroke. I writhed and wriggled on his cock, feeling his chest with my hands whenever I wasn’t steadying myself. I came again, pushed into climax by the pounding of his cock just as he came inside me. I love doing that.

I pulled him close to me, buoyed up by my orgasm and our physicality but also by the emotions of this intimate act with him. So easy to forget that not long ago he was new to sex entirely, new to kink entirely, new to me entirely. When I see how far he’s come for me, I can forgive that we have a way to go and I see how much he loves me. If there was no other reason to love him, that’d be a pretty good start.

Luckily for me, I have plenty already. ♦

Review – Tantus VIP Super Soft

♦ Disclaimer: I was provided with a free Tantus VIP Super Soft by SexToysUK in exchange for my honest review. Your Mileage May Vary. Clicking any of the pictures below will take you to the full-sized image.

The VIP Super Soft is a somewhat unusual dildo made by Tantus, one of my favourite manufacturers. It comes in the usual Tantus packaging, which you can read about in any of my other reviews for Tantus products.

It’s a fairly big dildo with balls, six inches long by 1.5 diameter, made out of Tantus’s Super Soft silicone material. This is the stuff that the squishy outer layer of Tantus’s O2 dildos like the Tantus Max is made out of. Unlike the O2 line of products, this dildo is soft silicone all the way through, with no inner core of firmer silicone. As with all Tantus silicone, it is body-safe and sterilisable.

It is really the softest dildo I’ve ever owned and is incredibly squishable compared to a normal silicone or even an O2 silicone dildo. It is softer than an erection but firmer than a soft cock, feeling a bit like a firm semi. It is much more flexible than that, though, as you can bend it in half and even stretch it out and it returns nicely to shape. I do think this is quite a robust dildo for that, but it does seem to be slightly susceptible to dents in the material.

The VIP Super Soft is a realistic-style cock, but in a simplified way. It has balls (stamped with the Tantus logo), a fairly pronounced head and a modelled frenulum, but on the other hand it has a smooth shaft with no veins and there is no real detail on the toy. I think this style is a nice balance between realistic and non-realistic, but I’m not exactly picky when it comes to that.

It’s a dildo which is sold by SexToysUK as being designed for pack and play: that is, to be worn in under your clothes like a packing cock and then to be used as a strap-on cock on a partner without having to switch dildos. Ideally, it should be soft enough to squeeze into your underwear, but hard enough to fuck with. Most dildos are too hard to pack and most packers (like my Mr Limpy) are far too soft to penetrate with, so something in the middle would be perfect.

PACKING

The Tantus VIP Super Soft is, as I mentioned, quite like a semi-erection in terms of firmness, so it gives the wearer quite a bulge in the pants. In fact, it gives more of a bulge than a semi-on would, because the toy is obviously sized as a large fully-erect cock. So the look is not going to be as subtle as a normal packing cock. In fact, it’s a bit like walking around with a constant hard-on, not that I mind that look. In fact, I quite like it. I’m a big girl so I want a big-looking cock to balance me out.

The toy is obviously harness-compatible and sits nice and firmly in a harness due to its adequate balls. It makes for a somewhat droopy cock, again not quite fully erect, but I actually find it quite hard to find cocks that don’t droop quite a bit in the harness, so I wouldn’t say this one was particularly awful for it, despite the soft silicone. In fact, the upwards curve of the VIP Super Soft means it hangs a lot nicer than it otherwise might and looks pretty nice. I do genuinely love to have this dildo sticking out proudly from my fly and looking decently real enough to get my mental erection going.

PLAYING

The material is soft enough to pack, but is it firm enough for play? I remember reading a couple of reviews that left me doubtful of this and had resigned myself to using it as a purely decorative cock, but I was pleasantly surprised. It is actually firm enough for insertion and insertion that does something too! It felt good! The material is, remember, less soft than I expected and I found it felt absolutely fantastic on my g-spot. Now, perhaps my g-spot is slightly hard to find and somewhat easy to please, I’m still learning about what it’s like, so it might not work for you, but it did for me. I found that the curve of the VIP Super Soft’s shaft really helped it rub where it should and it felt great, though it’ll do nothing for you if you like a firm touch there.

So it works for that pretty well. Where it did really fail though is in deeper thrusting and A-spot (anterior fornix) stimulation, as well as at just sitting inside me and being squeezed around. It did nothing for me as something to contract on as it’s too squishy. It’s great shallowly but as soon as it gets deeper, it’s much less easy to feel the toy. And it’s definitely too soft to give me the ooh-pleasure-pain I love so much deep at the back of my vagina. However, because of this, it does mean you can basically go all-out on the thrusting, so if you like to pound super-fast but get caught out by firmness, this might be great for you.

Whether you’ll find this a toy you can actually use or whether it’s just decorative will likely depend on how you feel about material firmness, basically. I think the shape of the VIP Super Soft is great and I doubt many people would disagree with me there, but it’s the soft silicone that will sway you one way or the other. If you like firm to hard toys, don’t get this. If you need pressure or firmness on your g-spot, don’t get this. If you like to whack the depths of your vagina, don’t get this. But, if you like softer materials, I recommend this. If soft g-spot rubbing works for you, I recommend this. If you like to thrust hard but don’t like to be hit hard, I recommend this. It’s all about your preferences, of course, but for mine I love what this toy can do for me, even if it works less well in other areas.

 CONCLUSION

The Tantus VIP Super Soft is a great toy for me. I love the look of it and the feel too. It’s large and fun and squishy, but also does the job of making me come and come well. It is fantastic quality, like every Tantus product, body-safe and sterilisable. It is harness compatible and can be packed, if a little obtrusively. If you want a subtle bulge, perhaps don’t go for this. It stands up well in a harness too, given its material. The toy has a great shape to it and I find it good on my g-spot and for shallow thrusting.

Is it the perfect pack and play dildo? Well, probably not. It’s on the edge of packable and could do with being a bit smaller or somehow just a bit less in your face about being down your pants. You can fuck with it, but it won’t suit everyone and some people are just going to find it too soft and meh. That said, there really aren’t a lot of dildos out there that you can pack and play with. It’s certainly the only one I own. And I love its versatility, even if it’s not perfect, and I love the look and style and squish and use of it. It’s a bit of a Marmite toy, I’d say. I won’t recommend it outright to everyone, but for some out there, especially people like me, this is going to be a fantastic toy for you. If you think you’ll share my enjoyment of the Tantus VIP Super Soft, you can pick it up now at SexToysUK.