Dear boyfriend,
I know we talked about the whole me reviewing sex toys thing…and I know you said you were cool with it, but I know that it bothers you at times. I hate that.
First of all, you are my favorite. And you are not insecure. That is my job. So stop thinking that owning an unusually large collection of naughty playthings means that you are not enough for me.
I know what you’re gonna say…if you are, indeed, enough for me, why do I need the unusually large collection of toys? That’s the thing…I don’t need them. I do like them. And I love reviewing them. But I do not need them.
I want to set things absolutely straight…I do not use or think of any of my toys as a replacement for, or better version of, your cock. In fact, super realistic toys kinda creep me out. I only own one that definitely looks like a dick, and I would still only call it semi-realistic (it fucking sparkles).
When I am getting myself off with something out of my stash of grown up goodies, I am not all sprawled out on my bed thinking, “my god, this feels so much better than the boyfriend’s cock.”
Know why?
Because it doesn’t.
There is no sex toy in the world that feels the same as fucking you feels. Do they feel good? Fuck yes. Sometimes I want strong clitoral vibration that can get me off in 47 seconds. I like the feel of cool textured glass moving inside of me. But nothing feels better sliding in and out of my pussy than you do.
I don’t want you to feel inadequate. You are so very, very adequate…in every way. You make me laugh. You make me feel sexy. And you have an absolutely perfect cock. No one, and no toy, has ever made me come like you do.
And that is just the way I like it.
I just want you to know how much I adore you. And your dick. And neither of you need to feel any kind of animosity towards any inanimate object that gets to hang out in and around my vagina.
Can we all play nicely?