My testimony will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me (insert your personal preference here)...

Like others, I have in the past come across the Fleshlight flashing banner that pops up annoyingly when web surfing in those waters that none of us will admit to entering. I always thought it looked somewhat tacky and something designed to draw in those in the first excitement of puberty, so never explored it. However, in a moment of regressed adolescence I eventually did click on it to see what it was all about. Suffice to say, this led me here and after some pondering, the placing of an order.

An intervening weekend added delay to what was, by now, becoming a keenly anticipated event (what kids we are). Only option was to get a grip on myself and show a little patience (and thereby hangs a tale, as you will soon see). Eventually the order was retrieved from the PO box. Now I have to say that the product declaration on the attached notice is a little too open to decoding for my taste. What's wrong with 'personal therapeutic device' or 'relaxation appliance' or something similar?.

Anyway, no embarrassing questions need to be answered and the Post Office employee seems satisfied, in a slack-jawed way, with the non-de-plume given. So, the package is strapped to the motorycycle and off to Poker ranch we go. Slowly, I might add. Who needs the attention of the law in a situation such as this? "Can I get you to open that parcel, sir". No thanks. No way, hombre. Once within the privacy of the digs, the parcels are opened. First impression is: "Umm, we have a slight aesthetic problem here..." The image that came to mind was of something from the autopsy table or a specimen from an anatomy class. Yes, the recognisable vertical smile is there, but what's all this wobbly pink attachment stuff, that moves as if it's a dead marine creature fished from the depths of the ocean, when prodded? Just a little bit spooky, Spock.

Well, I turned the lights out and got over it and started assembly. Build your own Barbie. With yours truly as Ken. Eventually got all the props arranged and slipped into the driver's seat (so to speak). Checked the oil, engaged first gear, chocks away and off we go. Hmm, not sure about this, feel like I'm molesting a thing. Pleasant enough, in it's own way, I suppose, but the brain was strictly in neutral. Now, boys and girls, we all know the brain is the biggest sex organ of the lot, so if it's asleep on the job or otherwise AWOL, the member may be present in the house but he's not standing to attention.

More frantic ministrations did not work except to raise a sweat, a rosy facial hue and shortness of breath. Whoa! wouldn't want to cark it under these circumstances. Now, I need to digress here. Long ago, before the word 'Tantric' was on anyone's lips, I had enthusiastically explored the world of Taoist (ancient Chinese) sexual practices and had mastered some of the techniques. So, I never have had problems rising to the occasion or performing when the chips were down (subject to the usual provisos, of course - drunk, exhausted or in the company of a comatose partner, etc.). So, performance anxiety was out and the working tackle was in fine fettle. A problem.

Now, it's a story for another time, but Poker ranch hasn't been graced by a female of the species for some time. A LONG time, let's say. So, regular personal gratification was in the Studster's own hands - if I may put it that way. With this in mind, the light started to come on. I remembered a post I'd read from another user who mentioned the problem of 'retarded ejaculation', and then several other mentions that hard manual labour, rough handling and the consequent choke hold brought on a form of numbness in the long-suffering one-eyed man. Food for thought, indeed.

So, I reluctantly aborted the flight and returned to the launch pad while making an announcement over the internal PA system regarding a slight equipment failure and the need to check the hydraulics and the joystick. So, what to do? Can't have this. Passengers have paid for their seats, dammit. More thinking was required.

Part two of this gripping drama will unfold in the next post. Can you wait?

A hint, the problem is dissected, diced and analysed. A strategy is devised. A solution beckons...

Um ok, I think from what I got in this one, is you are having a death grip problem from choking urself too much.

Which inserts did you end up buying?

Patience, Faz,

All will be revealed in the fullness of time...

hehe brilliant part 1 to what can only be an explosive build up. Nothing quite like well written inuendo and imagination to give us a testimonial for the Fleshlight. Im sure Stud has got the matter well in hand and seems intelligent enough to resolve these flight technicalities. Looking forward to part 1.

Pash