It's been a while, my lovelies, I know. But...I am trying to get back on track. Hope the MDM's come nice and easy in and in a pretty little row now ;)~
Singapore Stinger III
What can I say about the Singapore Stinger III? It is a scary ass little piece of wood. Innocent enough in its arrival with its little tag hanging from the handle. Naked wood, light to hold, unassuming. It is the box of wine at the sex toy picnic. The plain donut in the box. The...innocent looking item that packs a wallop.
When it first came I pulled it out and immediately sensed its potential and shoved it back in the box. Too late.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa...what was that?"
"Nothing."
"Take that out again."
No room for argument in voice or tone. So I did and I handed it over and when he took a practice swing at his palm and I saw the speed and the ease and heard the sound of the lazy but sharp impact—well, I knew I was screwed.
This is the man's kind of toy. It's really, really light and allows him to do that thing he loves. Where he starts to swat and I can feel the energy shift, even the rush of air at my skin and on that last second–the one that has me tossing my head back and giving shouting pleas to deities–he pulls back and it's just a stroke of wood on flesh. Or a teasing glance. A kiss instead of a blow.
Fuck.
It's such a handy little tool it adds to the variety. We can try it standing up…we can try it with me in you…we can try the front…we can try that ass…lower down…etc. The noise alone is enough to get the adrenaline gushing and the nerves dancing.
Let me put it this way, for the price, spanking aficionados need one in each room. Just hang them by their cut little handles on the walls. I know that's what the man's considering.
One rosy red bottom up from this reviewer. Pass the ice pack.
XOXO
Sommer
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