When it comes to impressive sexual feats, I must admit I’m lagging well behind much of the rest of womankind – I’ve never even been involved in double penetration, much less the added challenge of sucking a penis on top of a DP. It’s not for a lack of willingness; it’s just that every guy to whom I’ve brought up the idea seems to have an irrational fear of “crossing swords” with their prospective co-penetrator.
One thing I have done, however, is join the oft-discussed – and highly overrated – Mile High Club. Yes, it’s true; an old boyfriend of mine and I managed to cram ourselves into one of those old school phone booths with a power toilet that the airlines like to call a “restroom” for an in-flight quickie. It was possibly the worst sexual experience of my life (and undoubtedly the most crowded and awful-smelling one), but it did at least allow me to check off a box in the Unusual Sexual Experiences column.
Many times in my life, I’ve listened in rapt attention as friends have detailed their own exploits, which range from the untrue but very entertaining to the profoundly sad but regrettably true. I’ve heard tale of glory holes in adult shop video viewing booths and city park hookups from some gay friends, anonymous ‘stranger sex’ in unfamiliar hotels, more than a few sex-in-the-cab stories, and all manner of public sex tomfoolery, from department store blowjobs to a hasty handjob delivered in a dark corner booth at a crowded PF Changs, much to the chagrin of several members of the chain Asian bistro’s mortified wait-staff.
Just in time for the New Year, I now have a new inspiration in sexual adventurousness, and there are two highly unusual things about her: first, her stunt didn’t actually involve any sex, and two, she’s not even a real woman. Her name is Missy, and she’s a blowup sex doll who just joined the 19-Mile-High club…. sort of.
You see, Missy recently took a ride into the stratosphere, up to an altitude of approximately 100,000 feet (OK, so technically that makes it merely the 18.939 Mile-High Club, but let’s not be sticklers here), courtesy of a hydrogen balloon.
Granted, Missy didn’t pleasure anybody (or herself) during the course of her journey, but she did manage to hold it all together in the face of potent cosmic ray radiation, extreme sub-zero temperatures and winds that whipped her synthetic skin at speeds greater than 100mph. That might not be “hot,” but it’s definitely a noteworthy set of accomplishments for any woman, even a fake one.
Naturally, Missy couldn’t find a man willing to take the trip with her – another testament, if one were needed, of men’s fear of commitment and inability to go the distance necessary to bring their female partners pleasure – so she was left unable to consummate a sex act while at the dizzying heights to which her balloon transported her. Yes, as is so often the case, unable to find a man willing and able to take her over the top, a woman had to resort to the use of mechanical assistance!
At any rate, Missy’s flight should stand as an inspiration to us all – and it has already inspired me to take on a challenge that’s equal parts persuasion and perversion: If a vacuous vixen like Missy can literally reach for the sky, I should at least be able to convince my hesitant (and possibly homophobic) significant other to engage in a threesome that doesn’t involve a second vagina.
