Stroke It™ Tight Pussy - Brown

My first sex toy was from Temu, a tiny stroker that barely got the job done and was too tight. I threw it away. After a few months, I had some alone time and decided to go to a real adult store today and purchased this CalExotics stroker. I went home, washed it, lubed it up, and as soon as I was inside I felt the quality difference. Usually, I’m silent when masturbating, but today I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a few sounds. I couldn’t stop myself from jerking it while selecting a film. I highly recommend spinning it around for added sensation. The highest stimulating part was when I decided to twist it upside down, where the textures were painfully good. This was the hardest orgasm of my life. I laid there admiring the toy for a few minutes before washing, which was way easier than the other toy this took me less than 5 minutes. I put it away and stared at the box for a bit before finding myself back at it. I can’t wait until I get the chance to use it again. 10/10 experience, I’ll be back to buy more next paycheck.

Posted by Alex on Feb 28th 2024

I have to be honest here; I’m an initiate. A noob. I’d never owned a stroker before becoming an employee at an adult toy store. I wasn’t completely ignorant, I’d seen blow-up dolls and used vibrators on my girlfriends, but the notion of purchasing a “pocket pussy” just never occurred to me. I realize that term should not be applied in regards to top of the line strokers (Cal Exotic’s Stroke It products are definitely befitting of that title), but, in the mind of this reviewer before trying my hand (pun intended) with a toy, that is what they were all called. I had never even heard the term “stroker,” nor was I aware of how fucking real they felt, or of how real the fucking could be. My first foray into this world of silicone unfortunately wasn’t with Cal Exotics and was so absurd and disappointing that I almost resigned myself to being one of those luddites who still gives their wang the old spit and shine. I’d be in my 70’s, making sure to take my geritol, never leaving the house without my AARP card tucked safely in my wallet and looking for whatever respite I could find in jerking off manually. “Well, fuck it,” I thought, “I still own a laser disc player, why wouldn’t I be shuffling towards the grave still humping my own fist like it’s 1987?” With practicality being my initial approach to most things, I opted for an enclosed, case-style stroker. My mind had rationalized that it would be somehow less strange to hold onto a hard plastic case than a soft silicone shape. That’s a mistake that I hope to help you avoid, curious consumers. It’s actually the opposite. Instead of being able to intellectualize and imagine the contrast these two different approaches to product style truly are, I had to experience both to draw my conclusion, which is this: it is, or at least was for me, unsettling to be fucking a hard jumbo flashlight shaped receptacle that remained cold in my hand than it was to slide my cock into a soft silicone sheath that warmed to my touch. The case style isn’t for me; it distracts me from whatever fantasy I’m involved with because I’m not gripping something that feels like flesh. You may be able to ignore that cold plastic case in your hand; I could not. Though that wasn’t the first distraction. That fantasy break occurred when the removable back of the case popped off and landed at my feet. I would like to give my dick the credit for immediately busting that stroker’s ass due to sheer girth and length, but that wouldn’t be accurate. Call it either cheap manufacturing, bad engineering or a combination of the two, it simply wasn’t up to the task of bating this mastur. The second fantasy break happened as I went to pull out from that first failed stroke and half that fake pussy flopped out and drooped over the edge of the case like the clock in that Dali painting. Maybe it wasn’t the manufacturer’s fault. Maybe it was mine. Maybe I didn’t have enough lube and the silicone stuck to my skin. Never wanting to blame someone else for my own actions, I applied more lube and after re-sheathing that apparatus (as well as coercing my own apparatus into an erection for this hilarious escapade), I gave it a third try. The cap at the other end popped off for the second time. I ignored it and soldiered on. Then came (not me) a noise like 17 cooks stirring pots full of wet spaghetti noodles. Experience has taught me that no stroker is silent, with the combination of lube and the suction created by the pumping action it’s inevitable, but this was past acceptable. It was absurd. The manufacturer had installed a hole at the other end, I imagine as a way to clean the stroker easier, but that hole just amplified the noise as well as diminished the suction effect that I have found to be essential to a pleasurable finish. I hope that the rats who reside in the trash dump where that stroker is currently located are having a great time fucking it. I did not. But. Where that cased stroker failed miserably, this stroker stratospherically succeeded. Whether you’ve just masturbated for the first time or having been going nuts on your Johnson for over 35 years, one thing rings true when comparing it to actual sexual congress: it does not feel the same. At worst it’s a sad, lonesome act, and at best it’s a really good hand job. Or at least it was because California Exotics has changed the fucking game. I’ve encountered, up close and personal, a wide variety of vaginas during my tenure within this particular plane of reality, and this stroker’s appearance is more than adequate. Perhaps that sounds like a dis, but when you consider the cartoonish face of a blow-doll and the “mouth” it presents, that should give you some perspective. That particular offering is no more than a plastic hole, and it is just as alluring. This stroker’s opening is far more aesthetically pleasing as well as feeling like the real thing. If conjuring the scene in Fargo, season 2, of Jessie Buckley administering a hand job while doling out an acerbic diatribe doesn’t send a surge of blood to the capillaries of your appendage, try squirting a dollop of lube between this stroker’s labias, press them firmly over your dick and slowly slide it up and down your shaft. If you close your eyes you can perfectly picture your paramour posted over your groin, teasing you as she slowly and languidly slides back and forth. Feel her thighs gripping you as she moves. Once you’re fully erect, apply a bit more lube (I strongly suggest one that warms) to the head of your penis and slide yourself into this stroker. Slowly. You’ll be able to feel the accuracy to anatomy that they’ve attained there. It’s pure perfection and pleasure. The walls of this stroker hug and nudge and tingle every inch of your cock just like the real thing, coaxing sparks of ecstasy from every single nerve ending until your balls simply can’t contain themselves any longer and explode in that warm rush that leaves you breathless. The French call it le petite mort, which translates to “the little death.” It’s a euphemism for an orgasm, and that’s a phrase I would never have associated with masturbation. It’s a phrase I would sometimes think of after sex, while my legs and head were still tingling and my toes were waking back up. And now. I have to use it now because quite often when lost in a fantasy and using this stroker, towards the end, tingling breaks out all over my skin, my fucking toes go numb, and that’s never happened with just my hand. Fucking ever.

Posted by Mario Speedwagon on Oct 1st 2022