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THE SPINGASM WITH SEX IN A CAN — "I remember thinking ‘spin good!’”
In more prosaic terms, you hold the wand in your hand, put your dick in the Sex in a Can, and the little motor spins the thing around on your cock. Pretty straight forward, but the most brilliant ideas tend to be.
I’ve known that my girlfriend’s wands could be put to such a use for half a year, ever since I met the man behind Spingasm at the last AVN convention in Vegas. At the time, he warned me that no man could last longer than ten or twenty seconds inside one of these things once it’s started spinning. Now, I don’t last more than ten or twenty seconds under even the best of circumstances, but I thought I’d take him up on his implied challenge. (I kid, of course. I will gladly tire out any fine young ladies who leave their home addresses below, in the comments section.)
Towards that end I got some frig-worthy video footage of my beloved Lexi up on the screen put on my very sexiest alone time outfit and got to work. Now, I think I may have let the fine ladies of the screen distract me a bit too long before I docked, as it were, in my sensually robotic harbor, because I was pretty close to the edge before I even managed to stuff myself the whole way in there. I was starting to get all red and blotchy, so I decided to loosen up on the necktie I was using to choke myself and get back a bit of my composure.
I did what I always do when I’m trying to keep myself in the game a little longer; I closed my eyes and concentrated as hard as I could on the most horrifying thing I could think of. Once that bit of far right magic softened my little friend from angry purple titanium to a calmer deep red steel, I turned on the wand.
Of the thoughts I had in the fleeting moments that followed, I am only able to remember the most scattered of fragments. I remember thinking "spin good!” and then realizing, in a hazy sort of way, that faster spinning was even gooder. Then I sort of lost track of the buttons, and managed to switch the thing to a setting where it rotated back and forth rapidly, rather than in one long, sustained direction. I remember not enjoying this as much and banging on the machine until that irresistible, eternal electric handjob was pulling me to the right, to the right, to the right into the light again.
I should point out here that typing an account of these events has taken longer than the events themselves did; despite my best efforts to keep these notes brief and that hard-on raging. I don’t know for sure how long I was in there, but I didn’t come anywhere close to beating that ten second record.
Get your own two seconds of heaven here!