Strap-on Sensations

So, this is what Freud meant by ‘penis envy’, I thought to myself as I adjusted the angle of the strap-on dildo. I was wearing a cute set of lingerie and I was about to participate in an indoor photoshoot. It was my intention that the resulting photos would be perfect to illustrate the LGBT section of my book ‘English for Perverts’ that was published a few years ago.

Until the moment that I bounced the synthetic shaft up and down, I had never, ever, entertained the notion that I might suffer from penis envy. When I studied Psychology at ‘A level’, the very thought of having a todger of my own – just like most Freudian teachings –  seemed to be completely absurd.

As I stroked the impressive length of my plastic cock, I began posing for the photographer. She happened to be a lesbian, which made the scenario even stranger. I felt cocky and stood with my hands on on my hips. I struck a series of power poses with arrogant pouting lips and plenty of attitude. I had to concede that ‘cock’ seemed a more than an appropriate alternative term for ‘penis’. It was especially true for one with especially impressive dimensions. It didn’t matter which position I adopted during the shoot; my eager phallus jiggled and wiggled but always ended up on the horizontal or pointing towards the ceiling. If I ever possessed my own, real, cock then my ego would be formidable indeed.

I couldn’t help but wonder what the strap-on dildo might have got up to in the past or whom it had been up. It had been provided by the photographer and it was by no means straight out of the box. It must have done its fair share of pounding. I was just the model that day and I found the sensation of wearing it to be fascinating. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to put it to good use and shag someone with it, preferably a hot female.

I didn’t find out the answer to my many questions until a few months later, during my own sapphic era. It lasted about three years. I definitely had my favourite physical type: short-haired, olive skinned and andro. I was the red-headed, pale-skinned girly one. So, one night, I went to a friend’s birthday party and I ended up going home with a cute, short-haired girl whose name escapes me. Although we were both women, the dynamics of our tryst were similar to those that applied when I was with a man; I was the princess, the protected one. I didn’t want to engage with the manly role.

Despite her appearance, once we made it to my bed I discovered that she was incredibly feminine. Perhaps she was a little too girly for my tastes; she purred like a cat in my bed. I found that I wasn’t quite so horny for her as I thought. But, seeing as we were there, I decided to make the most of the opportunity and take a more dominant role.

 

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I went to grab the strap on that I had. I felt like some ‘sexperimentation’ was due. Although I would usually want to be the one on the receiving end, I decided to mix things up a little. I  took the strap-on into the bathroom, buckled myself into it and adjusted myself in the mirror. I admired my ‘chick with a dick’ appearance and stroked my long cock.

I was feeling cocky again, but this time with good reason. I strutted into the bedroom, equipped with lubricant and condoms. My lover purred again and opened her legs as I positioned myself on top of her, missionary style. I entered her slowly. I didn’t feel a thing, except when the base of the shaft rubbed against my clit randomly or when our four breasts rubbed together.

As I was thrusting, I couldn’t help but feel a new respect and admiration for the effort that men put into sex. It was hard work. I also felt some guilt for those times that I just lay back and let them get on with it. I put all that guilt to good use, however, and redoubled my missionary-style pounding. Although was becoming fatigued, when I heard her moans I was motivated to carry on regardless.

She rubbed her clit vigorously and – with the dual stimulation – it didn’t take her very long to come. But, despite this, it wasn’t ‘game over’ for me as it would be for most men after sex. I was just warming up. My lady-parts needed attention. She removed my strap-on and went down on me with a vengeance.

After a cup of coffee in my kitchen, she left. I said that I’d call her but that was just out of politeness. I knew that I would never see her again. I disposed of the toys we’d used. For reasons of hygiene, sharing is not caring when it comes to sex toys. And, it just doesn’t feel right. With every new relationship, there should be new toys.

The advantage of a strap-on, over a real penis, is that I can wear and use any cock that I want. I’m not limited to the one I was born with. You can even use several different ones during a hot session. There are so many variations to choose from. The strap-on world is more varied than the natural one. There are unusual shapes, textures, hardnesses, materials, vibrating functions and the capacity for novelty ejaculations.

Bearing this in mind, whenever I get a bout of penis envy in the future, I know exactly what I need to do. 

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