Marital Aid Test Kitchen: The Fucking Love Machine

Most people who own heavy-duty fucking machines like the Sybian aren't likely to be concerned with discretion when company comes over. Then again, they don't live within just-dropping-by distance of their parents in a New York apartment in which it is difficult to disguise the intended purpose of large machines that exist outside of the kitchen and have dildos poking out of them. It was in this unenviable position I found myself this past weekend, but after some quick piling of laundry, everything was under control. You see, the Love Machine is small enough to conceal with dirty laundry camoflauge—but were it spotted, everyone in the room would know that I like to ride the electronic pony, and no one would heed my claims that it's for the good of Fleshbotkind.

Read more about what it's like to live with a Fucking Love Machine after the jump.

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The Love Machine is a dashing purple, and it comes with several different kinds of attachments: three vibrators, two dildos and a Fleshlight-inspired attachment for guys that I like to call the mitten of love, because that's basically what it looks like. I am the kind of person who does not like to read the directions, but I couldn't figure out the contraption on my own, so I had to. Being forced to read directions was worth it though, because that's how I found out that the machine is guaranteed in the case of mechanical failure, but not in the case of an act of God. Just thinking about fucking machines and acts of God gets me a little excited.

So about the fucking of the machine. I'm probably more willing to fetishize and be wooed by technology than most, but there's something a little freaky about the Love Machine, maybe because of the chief attribute of all fucking machines: it just doesn't stop thrusting. While there's something kind of charming about a flesh and blood sex partner who is determined to get the job done, this charm is greatly diminished when it is encapsulated in machine form. The Love Machine's makers seem aware of this potential for creepiness, and so they have built in "teasing" pauses to the machine's operation, which turns out to be irritating and not erotic. If it weren't so creepy, the machine might actually be kind of soothing with its rhythmic pumping and its operational hum, but, well - it is creepy. But also mesmerizing. In that hypnotized-by-a-big-ass-butter-churner kind of way.

And then there's the meat and potatoes question of all sex toys: was it orgasm-producing? I am a very determined seeker-of-orgasm, so I would say that I came despite the machine's ministrations, not because of them. Technically, the Love Machine is proficient with the ole in-out, but its name doesn't fool me into thinking it cares about me and the state of my most precious girl parts.
- AR

· The Fucking Love Machine (erosboutique.org)

Previously: Marital Aid Test Kitchen Archive

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