A Year With the Double Trouble (+ Win My Favorite Toy!)


November. I creep to the post office with a harried desperation in my step. Once there, I slink to the service counter and slide my “missed delivery” notice toward the clerk, hoping she won’t ask me what’s inside the package she fetches for me. She doesn’t. I clutch it to my chest the whole way home, protecting it from the world and the prying eyes of others, like it’s my baby. It kind of is.

imageDecember. I’m enthusing about my new toy – the Fucking Sculptures Double Trouble – to an equally new fuckbuddy. “Why don’t you marry it?!” he jibes, and I think through this scenario like it’s an actual possibility. Already, the Dub Trubz has given me more orgasms than this fuckpal has, so it seems like a decent contender for spousal consideration.

A few weeks into fucking me on the regs, my FWB’s getting frustrated that he hasn’t been able to make me come. It’s not his fault, I tell him; it takes me a while to warm up to new partners, and for them to learn what I like. “Show me how to get you off,” he texts, and I come over to his house with my Double Trouble and Tango crammed into my bag.

Post-makeouts and foreplay, I lube up my favorite side of the D-Trub – the slightly thinner, longer side – and push it inside myself. I let him grasp the other side and take the reins, but I offer a running commentary of directions to help him along: “Tilt the handle down so the tip hits my A-spot better. Move it in small in-and-out motions. A little deeper, please. Harder. Just a liiiittle faster. There. Yes. Like that. Right there.” It doesn’t take long. I fall to pieces in front of him, the Tango handily handling my clit while he strokes the DT over my spot again and again. He finally got to see me come. He’s thrilled.

imageJanuary. I masturbate constantly with my not-so-new-anymore treasure. It’s like the honeymoon phase in a relationship; I just can’t see anything wrong with it, nor do I want to. It makes me squirt, it makes me giggle, it makes me come and come and come. I take it in the bath, to fuckbuddies’ houses, to coffee-dates with friends so I can show them my fave toy. Sometimes I’m lying in bed and I catch sight of it on my nightstand, and I have to use it immediately. It’s that good.

February. Planning my first anal sex experience, I’m sexting with a handsome hookup who loves using toys on me. “Any particular toys you want me to bring?” I ask him, nervous and excited. The hotel room is booked; this is really happening.

image“It’s about what you like,” he replies. “Even if I’m having a good dick night, that’s gonna be three rounds, max, with variable stamina. But if you want to get rammed with a toy for another 20 minutes, bring that. ;)” My heart quickens and I slide the Double Trouble into the toy bag I’ve already packed well beyond its capacity.

When the moment for toy-ramming actually arrives, there are really only two choices worth considering, and they’re both on the nightstand of our hotel room. “It’s up to you,” I tell him when we’re trying to decide which one should be the one to get me off. “The Eleven is more G-spotty, and the Double Trouble is more A-spotty.”

He fingered me a little, earlier in the night, so he’s bang-on when he intuits, “It seems like you’re in an A-spot kind of mood tonight.” (This is before I realize that I’m pretty much always in an A-spot kind of mood.) He fetches my Hitachi and lubes up the dildo, and I give him my same old detailed play-by-play of how to fuck me with this blue glass behemoth. He absolutely nails it. “I wish my dick was shaped like this,” he mutters, mere minutes before making me come so hard I practically black out.

March. “Some orgasms are quick, small, and barely noticeable,” I tweet. “And some orgasms involve the Double Trouble.”

April. I have a lacklustre Tinder hookup in Minneapolis. It sates my BJ craving but doesn’t get me off – one-night stands almost never do – so I wreck myself with my Dub Trubz after the dude drives me back to where I’m staying. Once again, a damn good dildo saves the day.

May. I’m on antidepressants for the first time in my life, and suspect that they might be affecting my sexual sensitivity. During a threesome with Bex and my favorite fuckbuddy, he uses his fingers and then the Double Trouble on my A-spot, and I don’t even get close to coming. That’s when I know for sure that my orgasmic capabilities have been stunted by the medication. If that dude’s fingers can’t get me off, something is wrong; if the D-Trubz can’t get me off, something is really wrong. I quit the pills the very next day.

June. I declare on Twitter that if my vagina were a polyamorous person, the Double Trouble would be its primary partner. (Truth be told, when I’m between partners, this toy feels like it’s my primary partner.)

28796671452_838a1a04bf_oJuly. I have a new kinda-boyfriend, and my fave fuckpal is in town. I have a lot of sex. No, really, a lot of sex. And a lot of it involves the Double Trouble. It’s fascinating to observe different partners’ approaches to using it on me.

One memorable afternoon, me and my fuckbuddy are gettin’ down to business in my bedroom in an Airbnb, while Bex shoots porn in the next room. While warming me up with his fingers, he reminds me in a low, vaguely dom-y tone, “We have to be really quiet.” I nod and pull a pillow over my face as a preemptive measure. He hands me my Hitachi, then lubes the Double Trouble and pushes it into me. I thought I could be quiet. Now I’m not so sure.

When we go out for dinner, I say to Bex, “You’re gonna lock the door, right?” and without missing a beat, they reply, “Duh. There’s a Double Trouble in there.”

August. I bring my Dub Trub to Woodhull so the other sex bloggers can ooh and aah over it. They do. One afternoon, horny and socially overwhelmed, I skip a session and sneak upstairs to my hotel room for an introvert break that is also a masturbation break. I work myself up with deft precision, Tango in one hand and Double Trouble in the other. It’s quick and easy. I feel instantly better.

Later in the month, I bring a new beau back to my place, and we hook up for the first time. “I want you to show me where your A-spot is,” he whispers darkly; he’s obviously been reading my tweets. I help him find it with his fingers first, and then I arm him with the DT. He picks up the necessary skillset admirably fast. After I come, he tells me, “That was hot,” and I radiate a glowy grin.

img_3885September. I’m miserable. Heartbroken over a recent romantic rejection, bitter over a couple of nasty break-ups, and as dour and depressed as I’ve been in recent memory. My genitals feel foreign to me, and most days, masturbation is too much work to contemplate. But when I need it, the Double Trouble is there. It sleuths out my A-spot. It makes me come. I don’t have to think, or try, or fantasize. Paired with the Magic Wand or Tango, it’s nearly instant. I’m unspeakably grateful for sex toys, because they make my life a little easier when it seems very, very hard.

October. I go to Malta and Italy for two weeks. Knowing I’ll be sharing a hotel room with my mom the whole time, I give minimal thought to masturbation. At the last minute, I decide to pack my Tango and G-Spoon, just incase. They end up being indispensable to me, since travel stress makes me horny as hell – but I still wish I’d brought my Double Trouble. True, I would’ve panicked the whole time that it’d get lost or stolen somewhere in an airport or a cargo hold, but nonetheless, I miss it. It’s my go-to guy.

November. I have an impromptu threesome with a handsome friend and a pretty lady. She plays with my nipples, kisses me, and tells me how cute I am, while he fucks me with the Double Trouble. He stands by the edge of the bed so he can fully harness the strength of his quads to ram me. At one point I start to get anxious and ask him, “Are you tired? Do you want to stop?” and he all but rolls his eyes, because he knows I’m prone to insecurities about taking too long to come. “You just lie back, relax, and feel good,” he instructs me. While I’m coming hard a few minutes later, he quips, “See what happens when you trust me?” and it’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever heard.

The next morning, Suz has to go home early, so it’s just me and Handsome Pal snugglin’ naked in bed. One thing leads to another, and once again, he’s got that big chunk of blue glass buried in me. “Harder,” I pant. I want more sensation. I want it to almost hurt. I want to come so hard for him. “If I go any harder, I might impale you,” he comments, “but I think you want to be impaled.” And then he presses the DT’s tip even more insistently against my A-spot, slamming the toy in and out of me faster. My yeahs and right-theres and don’t-stops coalesce into gasps and screams. The orgasm hits me like a train. I haven’t come that hard in months.

The 20th is the one-year anniversary of the Double Trouble’s arrival in my life. I decide I want to do something to mark the occasion. I ask the many-times-aforementioned friend with benefits – the person who’s handled my D-Trubz the most, other than me – for a mini-review to include in this post, and he writes back: “Fucking a partner with the Double Trouble fulfills my fantasy of having some kind of prehensile sci-fi alien penis… Recommended!” I simultaneously laugh and get turned on, a thrilling Pavlovian response. Unf.


I have the most exciting news for you, my loves: you can win a Double Trouble!! Last week, I reached out to SheVibe and Fucking Sculptures to ask if they’d provide a gift card that one of my readers could win and potentially put towards a DT, but both companies are fuckin’ superstars and they each generously offered an actual goddamn Double Trouble for my giveaway instead. Amazing!!

If you win one, SheVibe or Fucking Sculptures will ship you the toy for free if you live within the U.S. If you’re located elsewhere, you’ll have to pay the shipping yourself (but trust me, it’s worth it).

The giveaway goes until December 1st. I’m so so happy I get to hook up two of my lovely readers with my very favorite sex toy!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Monthly Faves: Paddles, Porn, & Pompadours


Not to be bragadocious, but July was a month of good, consistent, frequent sex for me. I am a lucky lady. I also gave more BJs this month than I perhaps ever have in my life. When it rains, it pours… Wink wink!

Sex toys

• I’ve loved my Fucking Sculptures Double Trouble ever since I got it, but this month my love for it was particularly intense. I had two different partners use it on me – it’s one of my favorite toys to get fucked with! – and they did a wonderful job every time. I love the moment when a partner tilts the Double Trouble just so and they find my A-spot; it’s a triumph for both of us. When Bex and I stayed in an Airbnb for a couple days to throw a party and make porn in mid-July, the only two toys I brought were the DT and my Magic Wand; I had a bunch of sex that weekend and those were the only toys I needed.

• A total sweetheart bought me a wooden hairbrush from my wishlist. It surprised me by becoming one of my favorite spanking implements almost immediately: it’s my ideal blend between thuddy and stingy. And, as a bonus, when my hair gets all messed up from a spanking and the sex that ensues, I can smooth it into submission with the brush. I have a feeling this toy will hold a place of honor in my purse from now on.

• Two impact-play toys in one list? Sure, why not… I bought a paddle from KinkMachineWorks that’s made of Lexan, a transparent material similar to plexiglass or acrylic. It’s unusually thuddy for a paddle (yes, good, yes please). My friend Georgia gave me some killer bruises with it, one sad drunken night, after which I felt a great deal better.

Fantasy fodder

• Remember when I told you I wasn’t that into PIV (penis-in-vagina) sex anymore? Yeah, turns out that when I’m seeing someone who’s really good at fucking me the way I like, I get right back on dat PIV train. There were even times this month when a partner was fucking me with a toy and I imagined it was his dick, which… isn’t how that usually goes for me.

• I love a good erotic audio. This one was a favorite of mine this month. God bless people who have the gift of a beautiful voice and put it to use in the form of kinky smut. (This one is also wonderful if you, like me, like to use sex and kink as motivators for productivity.)

• Binge-watching House always gets my sexual wheels spinning… I’ve gone through phases of being carnally obsessed with Chase, Wilson, and Thirteen, but I think my sexual tastes are growing up because it’s House himself who I’ve been fantasizing about a lot recently. Bex wrote up some of their dom-House headcanons and I kinda melted onto the floor. House is waaaay too much of an unstable asshole to date, but I’d sure as hell let him hit me with that cane while I was bent over his desk…


• A sexual highlight of this month was when I made blowjob porn with a partner and then gave him another blowjob off-camera as aftercare. It’s interesting how much the mental context within which you perform a sexual act can influence how that act makes you feel. Giving head on camera was hot, fun, and a novelty for me, but it left me feeling a bit empty and sad because it lacked the validation and intimacy I’m used to when I go down on someone. Giving him a “real” BJ less than an hour afterward was exactly the fix I needed, and maybe that’s strange, but hey, it worked for me. (And he sure as hell wasn’t complaining.)

• It was a particularly spanking-heavy month for me. Various people – sexual partners and platonic friends alike – consensually spanked me with a wide array of items: a silicone paddle, a Lexan paddle, a suede flogger, a stone crop, a book about spanking, a wooden hairbrush, a glass dildo, and of course, hands. The deeper I dive down the rabbit hole of impact play, the more convinced I am that it’s vital to both my sexuality and my personal psychology.

• I had two important sexual anniversaries this month: the 5th marked five years since the first blowjob I ever gave, and the 22nd marked eight years since the first time I ever had sex. I didn’t really celebrate these milestones, except by having a lot of sex (including blowjobs aplenty, natch).

Femme stuff

• I am currently obsessed with doing my hair in a pompadour with lots of bobby pins and a bandana. It’s an easy and relatively quick style that keeps my hair off my face in this sticky summer heat. It involves a lot of teasing and smoothing, which I do with the aforementioned wooden hairbrush!

• Bex and I went shopping specifically for clothes to do porn in. We were very efficient: after quick stops at American Apparel and Ardene, I’d amassed some pink striped knee-high socks, a low-cut black crop top, a translucent pink tank top, a pink headband, a pink bow barrette, a pink dog collar, and a black lace-up crop top that I should probably wear to cosplay as Sexy Wednesday Addams. I feel more balanced now that the slutty section of my wardrobe is more thoroughly fleshed out.

• I was super into the lip combo I used when getting mega-glam for porn: ColourPop lip pencil in “Heart On” + a hot pink Bite Beauty gloss. Pretty, sexy, and obnoxiously pink. Yeah, that sounds about right.

Little things

Dramatic late-night back-porch nudes. Taking American friends to their first Toronto weed dispensaries. A boy telling me he wants to date me by sending me this song. “How did the clothes end up all on the floor? Didn’t we just break each other’s hearts?” Sharing a sundae with a handsome pal while thoroughly stoned. Sharing fuckbuddy disaster stories. Sasha doing my makeup for a kinda-date-that-wasn’t-a-date. Getting fingerbanged so good and then being told that making me come that way is “like wrestling with a little monster” because my vag muscles clench so hard when I’m close. The outpouring of support I got when my Establishment article went up. A boy giving me one of his shirts to wear home when we couldn’t find my dress. Accidental I-love-you’s. Sophie Delancey interviewing me on Sex City Radio. Lavender oil. Drunkenly discussing sexual astrology on the subway. Taylor misreading Georgia‘s Twitter handle (LikeYourSilence) as “Like Your Silicone.” Monster Factory. “I want you to come all over daddy’s cock like you did earlier…” Beautiful porn cinematography. Hippo Campus. Bravery. When vanilla partners inadvertently dom me. Friends who understand and accept my introversion and other psychological quirks. Kate McKinnon. Therapy spankings.

Monthly Faves: Hickeys, Hankies, Collars & Community


Like last month, this was a tough one for me: my mood disorders were all over the place and I found it difficult to function a lot of the time. Luckily, sex stuff (especially certain types of kink) is helpful to me in that regard. Hooray for sexual healing!


Sex toys

• I’m never getting over the Double Trouble. It provides the most consistent and fulfilling A-spot stimulation of any toy I’ve ever used. (But, secret confession: it still doesn’t hit the spot quite as well as my partner’s fingers.)

• While I’m still annoyed with the controls scheme of the Shibari Mini Halo Wand, it nonetheless got a lot of love from me this month. Sometimes my clit craves rumbly vibrations in a shape smaller than the Hitachi but bigger than the Tango, and the Shibari Mini is ideal when that’s the mood I’m in.

SheVibe sent me a green and yellow Godemiche Adam and it’s gorgeous. The super-defined coronal ridge doesn’t always agree with my vagina (more detail to come in my review), but I’m pretty into the toy’s dimensions. Plus it looks badass in my harness.


Fantasy fodder

• So, this is a new thing for me: I’ve been having fantasies about being collared and owned. Often these aren’t even sexual fantasies; I just take comfort sometimes in imagining myself being a dom person’s good little pet, sitting at their feet and attending to their needs. (Now I just need an Aslan collar… and a dom-y person to put it on me…)

• Currently my favorite thing is getting fucked – with fingers, a toy, or a dick; the tool itself is inconsequential – while being held down. Early this month, I went on a first date with someone who (at my behest) pounded me with my Eleven while putting steady weight on my upper chest with one hand, and, oh my god. Give me that, always, please.

• My new beau has a thing for hickeys. I used to love these back in high school, because they were tangible proof that I was liked; just spotting a hickey on myself in the mirror was enough to put a big goofy grin on my face. Now I wonder if that affection for hickeys was also a sign of my burgeoning kinks, because there is something about feeling “marked” that is so sexy to me now. My boyf likes to leave a purple mark of ownership in the middle of my chest, and I wear it like a badge of honor.



• I bought some blue and pink bondage rope and have been learning some rope basics. This is a fun skill that I hope to explore more!

• I’m in a Facebook group for local kinksters and it’s the best. It’s reminding me of the importance of community, and of being around like-minded people, even just in a digital space. Plus there are a lottttt of hotties on there; holy fuck. Can I smooch all the dom cuties’ faces?!

• March 27th was my 4-year blogiversary. I didn’t write a celebratory post like I did last year or the year before, but rest assured: I love you all very very much and I’m grateful every day to have this platform and this community. Four years ago, it was my dream to write about sex for people as nerdy and passionate about sexuality as I am, and that wish has come true many times over. Thanks, babes!


Femme stuff

• My boyf gave me one of his flannel button-down shirts to wear. It’s soft, and warm, and wonderfully too-big on me. I love wearing clothes and accessories that were given to me by people who care about me, especially at times of emotional distress, because it reminds me that I’m capable of being adored. I spent many a stressed-out day this month snuggled up in my beau’s cozy shirt, thrown over a nightgown or a T-shirt or nothing at all.

• I was told to wear gold for the Smut in the 6ix promo shoot, so of course I made a trip to American Apparel immediately. (It is the place to find over-the-top, porn-friendly clothes, don’tcha know.) I bought a ridiculous gold lamé halter bodysuit and it’s excellent.

• I recently acquired a light blue handkerchief and have been wearing it on my right wrist, as per the hanky code. Probably very, very few people I encounter even know what this means, but it gives me a private thrill nonetheless.


What were your faves this month, cuties?

Review: Fucking Sculptures Double Trouble


Did someone break into the penthouse of my vagina and steal the blueprints? Because the Fucking Sculptures Double Trouble feels like it was designed just for me.

My vagina hungers for it. It can’t make up its mind which side is better. “Tonight I want the smaller side,” I’ll think, and insert that slightly slimmer end until it slides all up into my A-spot. That fuck-yeah feeling of deep pressure and rhythm seems like everything I could possibly want… until I remember that the toy’s other side exists.

I flip it around and push the big side into me, turning it sideways at first so it’ll fit. It finds my G-spot with alarming ease. It’s like a little fist, so round and firm, exerting pressure in places I didn’t even know I needed it. I rock it against my G-spot fast until I squirt, and still I want more. So I flip the toy back around. And again. And again.

This is how every session with my Double Trouble seems to go: a slow, jagged, delicious ascent toward orgasm, unable to decide what kind of stimulation the toy provides best. It’s the Renaissance man of my vagina. And it was appallingly expensive, but in the sticky heat of the moment, I don’t remember or care.

imageI first tried a Double Trouble at Bex‘s house. They were borrowing Caitlin‘s, which is the standard inky-black color that the DT usually comes in. While Bex and Penny chatted in the next room, I retreated to the air mattress Bex had set up for me in their office, pilfered some lube, and settled in with the Double Trouble. It felt luxurious and heavy and huge, and I didn’t think my vagina would like it as much as my eyes did, but I was wrong. I was also, admittedly, very drunk (I had been out cavorting with a friend earlier in the evening), which made me wonder if perhaps I was experiencing the toy with a rose-tinted vagina.

I immediately noticed that the A-spot stimulation I could get from the DT’s smaller end was excellent, and it made me come super hard in combination with my trusty Tango. But the larger end wouldn’t fit inside me at all, which I decided was a dealbreaker, especially given how expensive the toy is. It took a lot of willpower not to place a drunken order from the Fucking Sculptures website that very night, but those drawbacks were enough to keep me from hitting the “Add to Cart” button. (Well, let’s be real, I think I did hit “Add to Cart” but at least I didn’t hit “Check Out.”)

However, in subsequent months, I started to notice that all my favorite dildos du jour were massive and S-shaped. And I kept casting my mind back to that debauched night on Bex’s air mattress. On Twitter, I complained about not being able to afford the dildo of my dreams – and within 24 hours, I got booked for two cam shows with kindly horny men who wanted to fund my dildo habit in exchange for some saucy Skype time. The internet is magic, y’all.

imageMy lascivious benefactors only covered about half the cost of the toy, but that was enough to justify it for me – especially since Fucking Sculptures was having a sale at the time. I emailed Maria, co-owner of the company, to ask if she happened to have any Double Troubles left from the limited-edition, sky-blue “Dreamy Daze” batch that had been made back in May. As it turned out, she had exactly one left. And if you know me, you know that I love blue sex toys. So that sealed the deal. I ordered it on the spot.

Courtney Trouble has said that they designed the Double Trouble to be “a representation of a cunt from the inside out,” and that’s totally what it feels like to me. It fills the hungry void that my vagina sometimes becomes, and presses against the exact spots where I want pressure.

imageThe smaller end is the one I use the most – and I’m using the word “smaller” pretty loosely here, because it’s still big; it’s just more tapered and pointed, so it’s easy to insert even if I haven’t warmed myself up or used any lube. (My vagina is a professional, though, so your mileage may vary. Go forth and lubricate, my friends!) It has the mild curve and slightly narrowed tip that tends to work well for hitting my A-spot, and indeed, it does so fantastically. I just need to push down on the other end a little bit to get the angle right. I’ve even taught a few partners how to do this, and it seems to be a fairly easy toy to fuck someone with: despite how deep I like my Double Trouble inserted, I’ve yet to have a partner painfully bump my cervix with it, because the curve and taper are just right.

I like the bigger end too, but I have to be in the right mood for it. As I’ve mentioned here before, intense G-spot stimulation isn’t really my jam; sometimes I crave it but mostly I can take it or leave it. However, when that’s what I want, this end can totally deliver. It’s enormous and has no taper, so I have to turn it sideways to get it into me, but once it’s in, it’s comfortable (not like my so-intense-it’s-almost-painful Seaside Steamroller). The angle is not as drastic as something like the Seduction or Comet Wand, so the most adamant of G-spotting fans may not be pleased with it, but it works well for my body.

Fucking Sculptures makes their toys out of soda lime glass, which is heavier than the borosilicate often used for cheaper, mass-produced glass toys. As you might have noticed, the Double Trouble is gigantic, so it’s pretty heavy: about 1.75 lbs. I’m used to thrusting heavy toys (my beloved Eleven is 2.75 lbs) so this doesn’t bother me unless I’m using the toy for a long period of time and my muscles start to tire. But if you have any mobility or strength issues in your arms, wrists or hands, you will definitely hate the Double Trouble.

But me? I definitely love it. If my vagina and this dildo both had OkCupid accounts, their compatibility percentage would be 99%. And they would exchange flirty messages that quickly became explicit. And then they would go on a drinks-date, banter wittily for a few minutes, and retire to the Double Trouble‘s apartment for some raucous, sweaty sex.


You can buy the Double Trouble at SheVibe! And you should, ’cause it’s the fucking bomb!