Zoomdoggle: More fun than work!

It’s time again for Drew’s Truth or Dare. You remember Drew, he’s the one with a very sordid past and very little shame. Got a question or dare? Send ‘em to us at truthordare@zoomdoggle.com and make him, er, doggle for your delight. Take it away Drew…

TRUTH: Ever heard of this thing called the Fleshlight? I’m thinking of ordering it, but at nearly $90 any info you could provide before I push “buy” would be greatly appreciated.
—notgonnatellya@heprobblydidntwantustoshare.com

Ah, where to begin. Word around the Navy docks is that it’s a must-have item for any enlisted man looking to partying solo style. As I’d already flogged the dolphin every way imaginable, and, as hanging out dock-side asking about masturbation isn’t getting me any closer to actual women, I decided to more in for a closer look.

A simple call to the Zoomdoggle office and I had the money needed to shake my moneymaker in a piggy bank of a different sort. Actually, they did me one better and had the thing delivered to my office. Luckily, it came in a non-descript cardboard box. Then again, don’t these things always.

Once in the safety of my own home, it was time to unsheathe the beast. Only, beast it was not. Aptly named, the Fleshlight vaguely resembles a flashlight. Ever bone a flashlight? Me neither, but as my Navy friends swear by the thing - and you the readers are counting on me - I figure there’s a first time for everything.

Inside the flashlight bit is a smooth, pink mass of silicone. A hole in the front resembles a vajajay, and as the good people at Fleshlight headquarters were kind enough to include some lube, I figure it would be rude of me NOT to stick my dick in it.

I started off the old fashioned way, sans Fleshlight, to wake my man up enough to stick in Fleshlight’s wow-hole. Soon things were going well down there with Mr. Happy, and I thought it the right time to kick it up a notch. I grabbed my new friend and tried to stick my junk in it. Bad idea. Without lube the sensation was like sticking your wang in a tube of toilet paper… only sadder.

A dab or two of lube and we we’re back in it to win it… or not. Again, no penetration, only pain.

What was I doing wrong?

Screw it, I said to myself, no pain, no gain. And with that, I jammed it down my shaft as hard as possible. A decision I would quickly come to regret. Though the lube at the top had allowed me entry, the dry tube beneath how had me in a death-clutch.

I stood there stunned. For some reason I guess I expected it to do something. Light up, vibrate, talk dirty to me, make me a sandwich…I don’t know. Nothing.

I looked around, and with only my cat there to witness the shame, I did what I do when most things my penis is inside of fail to react the way I’d like them to: I went to town. Images of hot girls doing incredible sexual acts flashed in my brain as I tugged the thing up and down the quarter-inch-or-so the lube less canal would allow.

Incredibly, for about two minutes, it was working. I could feel a burning in my loins. Soon I would reach the climax. While my right hand pumped the light, my left worked its way up my chest to my next. Yeah, that’s the spot. Then I made the mistake of opening my eyes.

I know better than to look at my judgmental cat when performing solo, but in looking the other way, I caught a glimpse of my reflection on the dark computer screen.

There I was, naked but for a piece of pink silicone buried in a flashlight suctioned onto my dick. Is this how $90 worth of sexual excitement is meant to look?

One thing was for sure, I lost my libido. Instantly flaccid, it wasn’t that difficult to slip my man-meat from it’s death-clutch.

Minutes later, as I was kneeling over the side of the tub, running gallons of water through the Fleshlight to clean whatever goodness I may have inadvertently deposited, I came to a conclusion:

As a sex toy, the Fleshlight does not elevate sexual levels. In fact I believe it has the opposite effect.

A day later I still felt sad. Sad for myself. Sad for our seamen who seem to enjoy this thing. And sad for my cat, who had to witness the affair.

My advice to you? Spend the $90 on a nice haircut instead.

So, what’s next, got a question that needs answering? An experience you’ve always wondered about? Let me play surrogate. Drop us a line at truthordare@zoomdoggle.com and tune in next week see the mayhem unfold.

—Drew@zoomdoggle.com