Gagging for it

When you see women with fake blonde hair and perky breasts leaning back and allowing a product designed to paralyze your gag reflex to be sprayed into their mouths, you might think you were on the set of a porn movie.

But no, for Tiffany, the sales woman for Dildos R Us (not the real name of the company), this was just another suburban sex toy party, another thousand dollars worth of sales, thank you very much.

How did I end up here? A friend invited me. I don’t usually go to the suburbs, because, quite honestly, they scare me. All those huge houses with their double garages and totally soulless ambiance. At this house there were dozens of cupcakes and cheesecakes on offer if you felt like pigging out. There was also a very expensive designer dog with a red bow in her hair, in a cage, yes, a cage, in the sitting room, spinning around manically. There was no freaking alcohol either. There was just a fifty year old, well- preserved woman spraying Gag-No-More into one mouth after another.

“When you are giving your husband an oral favor, do you find yourself gagging?” asked Tiffany. Lots of housewives nodded. I just looked dazed. Who calls it an ‘oral favor?’

The woman next to me, fake tan, blonde hair extensions and lip liner nodded. “I have terrible trouble with gagging.”

Who knew that the biggest problem in the suburbs was gagging? Turns out most of them think that giving a blow job is having your husband thrust his dick down your throat until you gag! I thought that was what porn and films like Deep Throat were for – to show that no one who isn’t paid to do it likes a dick rammed down their gullet from start to finish. Sure, part of the time, but the ten minutes or whatever until he comes? I don’t think so. What possible enjoyment can there be for the woman in that? Well anyway, all these housewives reported that the spray had indeed numbed their throats and possibly cured their gag reflex. That was Tiffany’s first sale of the evening.

Next, she showed us more potions, one that claimed to make a guy come in one minute, another to make him stay hard for half an hour, some spray you put up your pussy that makes you tight, called I’m a Virgin. Then she passed round those weird multi-functional vibrators named after animals, like the Dolphin and the Elephant (some of which cost $130!). The only thing I fancied was the shaving cream which apparently guaranteed you’d never have razor burn again.

Well, Tiffany was really giving it her all, writhing on the floor and simulating orgasm like crazy while she pseudo-fucked herself with a vibrator. Still, she had the last laugh, all the housewives bought some of this junk off her, and she had a fantastic looking Jag parked in the driveway, so she must have been doing all right.

She even persuaded me to put some cream called X-Tasy on my bits (get your mind out of the gutter, no we weren’t all sitting round with our pants around our ankles, we went to the bathroom to apply this miracle potion). It was meant to make your, um – Tiffany used the word ‘doorbell’ as a euphemism for clitoris – your doorbell start ringing. All I felt was a burning sensation akin to cystitis.

I leafed through the catalogue and saw a blow up sheep listed, with a hole in its ass. I couldn’t help thinking, how sad must you be if you can’t pick up your own live sheep in a field, if indeed you are a sheep shagger (all right, I nicked that gag from Ricky Gervais’ Animals DVD). Still, most of the products seemed like a bit of a waste of money. Apart from the artificial vagina. All over the suburbs wives are saying “Not tonight darling, I have a headache,” and passing their husbands this artificial vagina to come into. And Tiffany actually said that this artificial vagina, made of some kind of wobbly jelly like substance, traps sperm so there is “No fuss, no mess. The sperm stays inside for easy clean up.”



Wow! Easy clean up. In that case, I’ll take half a dozen.

It’s interesting that Tiffany shifted so much of this stuff by pointing out a bunch of male inadequacies. All I could think of was, if you are really married to men this bad in bed you need to a) communicate what you need better, or, failing that, b) divorce him.

Tiffany goes, “You know how he often comes and leaves you desperate for your own orgasm, meanwhile he’s snoring?”

No, I don’t know how that is, because it’s never happened with my husband. Every man knows you try and get the woman to come before you do. Don’t they? I mean, sure, I’ve had selfish lovers, but they certainly didn’t become my boyfriends.

I thought it was kind of sad actually. All these women hoping these gadgets would spice up their love life, when what they really needed was a new man. To be honest, it made me realize quite how lucky I was to have my husband!