Happy Endings

Every once and a while when I get stressed out at the office, I sneak out for 45 minutes to get a quick back massage. The place is a block from my office and, like, $20 for a quick deep half hour massage. However, I have always been suspect to what kind of massage parlor this is. It would be very easy to miss it walking down the street and once you go in it looks like at any moment the owner could pack up the lack of decor and skip town. There are 3 or 4 massage tables that are separated by (what might be) thick shower curtains. All the "therapists" are not-ugly petite Asian women, who when you come in for a massage are brought up from the basement usually wearing flip flops or men's sandals that clearly don't fit or belong to them.

I went in yesterday for a 30 minute massage (fully equipped with a few clorex disinfectant wipes for the table) to ease my tense neck caused from sitting at a damn computer working on excel spreadsheets all day. Per usual I came in, said two words: "30 minutes" and was ushered behind a curtain and given a plastic bin to put my belongings in. As I whiped down the table and undressed from the waist up I wondered what was happening just beyond the curtain separating me from the next table. I mean, if someone were to orgasm I can't imagine I wouldn't hear it. The thought stressed me out further making me impatient for the masseur to hurry up and and rub my tense neck. She quietly entered without saying a word and begun working on my back. I began to diffuse until I heard a man walk in asking for a "rate card". I'm sure he was handed one with the $20 price range and asked "Um, is there another rate card?" The poor girl upfront, clearly, didn't understand what he was asking. So the man kept saying "Another rate card??" Getting no where he asked, "Is there a name I should ask for? Who's name should I ask for?" The poor girl still seemed to not understand, but he wasn't giving up. Finally an English speaking woman's voice came from the table next to mine, "NO you don't ask for a name!" And with that all I heard was running feet and the sound of the bells attached to the front door ringing as he fled in embarrassment.

I've met more than a few gay and straight men who have told me that they have paid for massages with "happy endings" or a "rub & tug" if you will. Many are not the slightest bit bashful to divulge this pastime - kinda like a kid telling me that they like to play lazer tag and would totally do it again if the opportunity arose because it's awesome. In the name of research I asked a few of my male friends if they have ever paid for a handy? Just about every single one had a story to tell. From the friend that said "Hell yes!" to another friend who tried to convince me "it didn't really count" since he didn't pay for it himself - it was a gift from a friend. Um, yeah it counts.

Only one of my female friends has come across a "manual stress releasing" massage and it was by accident. She had been going to a 60-something Asian male therapist for about a year that was recommended to her by a yoga instructor. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary except the massages only cost $35 for women and $75 for men. Then one day she was particularity stressed out the therapist started to work on her and said, "Oh you very tense! You need release." And proceed to work his oiled up hands between her legs then up to her genitals. As shocked as she was, he seemed to know a few tricks her husband didn't and she decided to let the old guy continue. While she didn't have an actual "release", she did promptly schedule her next appointment. Unfortunately, the next appointment wasn't as enjoyable and she found herself faking a few orgasms just to get the guy to stop so she could pay and leave.

I've had some pretty magical handys in my day but I have never received one from someone with professional skillz. Would I pay for one? Probably not. I see it as an unnecessary luxury item, like Botox. If I had $200 burning a hole in my pocket I can think of a ton of things the money would be better spent on like, I dunno, inoculations for my kids. And if my kids were actually up-to-date on their shots? I think I'd spring for the Botox first - it lasts longer and chances are it will only get me more invitations for FREE mustache rides. Besides, I have a sexy lady that is always good to rub one out - me.

Turned ON but can't get OFF

Dear Vixen,

I'm in a exclusive relationship with my awesome boyfriend. He's amazing and we get along so well! I love him dearly but there is a problem: he's clueless in bed. He totally turns me on but when it comes to making me come - he can't. Any suggestions?

Love, Turned on but can't get off


Dear TOBCGO,

I feel for ya sister. Most of us have been there at one point or another. And fixing the problem, while navigating the tender male ego, is not an easy task. How do you say, "You suck - and NOT in the good way."? Clearly, communication is the key in all relationships - especially when sex is involved.

I'm assuming you know how to get yourself off - let's start there, shall we? You need to figure out a way to incorporate your personal activities into your tandem play. A lot of women I know enjoy the use of vibrators but find it difficult to bring them into partner play. In the past the majority of toys have been phallic shaped and you really can't blame most men for viewing them as competition (especially if they are larger or harder than his own manhood). Fear not! There are a number of personal products available on the market today that are less intimidating than his ipod.

Lelo - "Nea"

Smaller then a regular computer mouse, the Nea hugs over your pubic bone to perfectly curve onto your clitoris while he penetrates you. Sleek and unassuming (and rechargeable!) with 7 Hours of fun per single charge the Nea is like adding sweetener to your iced tea. And can be enjoyed with or without a partner in case he's busy running off to the store to buy you some flowers...

We-Vibe

To be worn both inside and outside for clitoral AND G-Spot stimulation, the We-Vibe was specifically designed for couples. I've heard from various people that extra lube is required for a most comfortable fit - but different strokes for different folks.

Vibrating Cock-Rings
Now a days you can buy disposable vibrating cock-rings at most drugstores in the condom isle. For the most part I've had mixed reviews with complaints of the pieces breaking or not vibrating hard enough. By paying a bit more you will find better results - but there is no harm in trying one of the basic drugstore models as an segue to "things that buzz in the night".

Textured Condoms
Chances are if he doesn't know what he's doing a textured condom isn't going to make much of a difference. But it could be a good introduction of adding small (non-threatening)enhancements to sexy-time.

I hope these little suggestions help. Just remember that it's a two way street and if he's not open to finding ways to pleasure you then he's just masturbating on you. You might as well be in separate rooms doing your own thing and getting off.

Stay sexy,
Vixen

sugarlilyshop.com

Dear Vixen...

Just for shits and giggles I've decided to add a "Dear Vixen" section to the blog of questions I've been asked and invite you, dear reader, to write me with any thoughts, suggestions or questions you might like me to answer.

Nip/Tuck

I adore my gynecologist. I really do. While most people usually dread visiting their gynecologist, I look forward to seeing her since the appointments are spent with the two of us laughing for the most part. Whether it’s at the state of the economy or the state of my vagina it’s usually a topic that is convoluted yet laughable.

At my most recent appointment, as I lay with my ankles hoisted up in stirrups wearing an uncomfortable yet functional paper dress, I asked what was new and exiting with her in the land of vagina. She was excited to tell me that she has started performing cosmetic vaginal plastic surgery (rather “vaginal rejuvenation”) due to a recent surge in demand. Intrigued, I attempted to sit up and asked a battery of questions, like Why did she start doing this? How often does she perform the procedure? How banged up are these vaginas that need to be cosmetically altered? She told me she began getting referrals from a plastic surgeon friend whose apparent fear of vaginas outweighed his love of money. Initially she was “rejuvenating” woman who work the adult entertainment industry but has since seen an increase in every day woman hoping to lift their lady bits.

At what point does a woman say to herself “Hmm. My labia is longer than I’d like it to be. I think I want to pay someone the cost of a small car to just cut the damn thing off.” Now, I’ve had two human beings descend through my vagina and can totally understand that some women’s shit might be really messed up after childbirth. I have, in fact, known women whose episiotomy had left them mutilated and in need of reconstructive surgery. But these are not the woman I wonder about. I wonder about women that have the free time and finances to obsess about a part of their body that can’t easily be seen to her without the aid of a hand held mirror and strategic lighting.

How can a woman (or a man for that matter) this day in age not know that vaginas aren’t “supposed” to look a certain way? No two vaginas look alike. An English sculptor by the name of Jaime McCartney is exhibiting his recent work entitled “The Great Wall of Vagina” in London which displays 400 plaster casts of vulvas. “For many women their genital appearance is a source of anxiety and I was in a position to do something about that.” McCartney was quoted saying. I suppose if a woman has not seen many vaginas in her day or whose only vaginal sightings have been in high production porno movies, she might worry that there is something different looking about her own.


I suppose it comes down to personal preference – like breast augmentation. In fact, I myself had a breast reduction 8 years ago. It took me years of deliberating the pros and cons of having the surgery preformed. Cost was not an issue as it was fully covered by insurance since my small frame couldn’t handle magnitude of the breasts I had inherited from my aunt Dee. My concern was more about going under general anesthesia and having my body cut into that made me pause. Ultimately, it was one of the greatest decisions I have ever made and am still candidly thrilled with the designer rack my plastic surgeon made for me with the leftovers.

I can imagine that for women getting a “rejuvenation” it is just that – a transformation she does for herself that makes her feel confident and sexy. And I can’t argue with any woman trying to accomplish those feelings, but am not certain that a few hours in an operating room will truly accomplish any change in self-confidence anymore than a pretty new pair of shoes could. In conclusion, I think it’s pretty amazing that my doctor is paying her mortgage with the money she makes cutting off what most women in 3rd world countries would love the right to keep to begin with.

Who is Vixen VonTooten?

Vixen VonTooten was created a few years ago when I was setting up a new home phone line and was informed I would have to pay extra to not have my name and number available to anyone who wanted to know. After about 20 minutes of petulant arguing with the poor sales person, I asked if I could be listed under another name? Out of complete frustration the tired rep surrendered, “Lady, you can be whoever you want to be.” And it came to me instantly: “List me as Vixen VonTooten. V-O-N-T-O-O-T-E-N!”