Man Versus Machine

Comin' out on top in a big, fat, 12-inch dildo kind of way

"So," I whisper, "how is it better for a man if you use a clitoral stimulator?"

Dale mumbles through her teeth, "Your muscles tighten up when you're stimulated, so it's better for the man."

I put to her, "If you could only have one for the rest of your life, which would it be, man or machine?"

Porky in the crack, happy as hell.
Christopher Smith
Porky in the crack, happy as hell.

"Man, any day of the week."

Go figure.

We head back over to the two men, and I ask them about rubberized half-asses. The older gentleman comments, "Fake flesh is repulsive."

Jonathan ushers me away from Dale and unloads way more information than I asked for. "When I'm going to have sex with a girl, if I think she'd like a dildo, I go buy one for her. [Before purchasing] I go and ask a female opinion. What's the most popular brand at the time?

"If I think they're in the mood for a big cock, I buy a big cock. If she likes clitoral, I'll get her a stimulator. If she's into anal stimulation, I'll buy her a butt plug."

Right. Right. "So, have you ever bought a chick a big, 12-inch cock?"

"Oh, yeah. Double-ended."

"How does that work?"

"How do you think? You bend it around and stick it up the other end, and they lose all their inhibitions and go into their own bodies. Into their own pleasure, and nothing is holding them back. They don't care who I am. It's about the pleasure at that point in time."

Whoa, he's all Casanova and liberating with the sex toys. Doesn't he get that he's deleting himself from the picture? I can't help but detect condescension when he says, "I buy whatever she wants to make her feel good. Women need something to overcome the pressure of society. Women need a private experience."

Dunno. Could be wrong, but maybe he knows something I don't.

Back in Kim's west bar next to the pool tables, I bump into Virgo, a 42-year-old man with spiky brown hair and brown eyes who really throws me for a loop.

"Would you buy a half-ass?" I ask him.

"Men are drunk; give them something to play with and they will play with it. A man has a natural instinct to fuck a hole, period."

So, uh...

"If I'm drunk and horny and you put a half-ass in my bed, I'd probably hump it and be like, 'What the fuck is this?' If you put a man in bed with a fake ass and a fake mouth, he'd try them both within an hour, no doubt."

Oh my fucking God. Enough!

Virgo smirks and shrugs.

"It's knowledge. Do what you will with it."

Dear Virgo: The knowledge is too much for me.

One must consider the vision of Mallory now, his wild eyes searching the half-light of dawn for a mirage of lovers lost, formulating phrases that would span half a millennium. Perhaps it's a good thing that no one slipped a half-ass into his bed. Better, perhaps, that he did not pound the prosthetic, drop off into lust-freed slumber, and never formulate a phrase of frustrated desire.

But, hey, that's just me.

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