Besides touch, smell and taste are perhaps our most evocative and erotic senses. We discover much about our lovers when we nuzzle them, inhaling their essence; for instance, we find out through chemistry and scent whether or not we “click” with them. When we kiss, we find out even more; with the hand-in-hand senses of taste and smell we can literally “drink in” our lovers though our senses. If the chemistry works, we have a red-hot love affair on our hands — and we want it to last.
Making it last means keeping the sensuality, and the sex, hot. One way to make sex sexier is to play around with toys that make tasting and smelling our lovers into a game, or an experiment. With this in mind, I endeavored to enter the world of “edibles.”
I made a laundry list, an edible shopping list, and sent my erstwhile lover to pick up the booty. This was a pretty sexy act all on its own — he was instructed to pick up the package during working hours, and then bring it all to my house after work, where I would be waiting. He claimed it gave a new meaning to the phrase “hard at work.”
When he arrived I was in a sexy dress, with a notepad and pen on my bed. We were both quite nervous. I noticed that the large bag he brought had been ripped open, as if by a wild animal. When I laughingly asked what happened, he said that he got about twenty feet from the store before he had to see what was in the bag — so I asked him to show me what he found. We were sitting on my bed with all our clothes on, smiling and feeling awkward, and he reached blindly into the bag and pulled out whatever was on top.
He pulled out Shunga Aphrodisiac Oil, and we both moved in close to examine the tasteful, eloquent packaging. Inside the canister was a glass potion bottle with a corked top; I felt like a witch as I uncorked the bottle and used the plastic cork to rub a little of the oil onto the palm of his hand. I blew on it and asked if he could feel anything — nope. But as I talked close to his hand, going in for a taste, he noticed that the heat of my breath made his palm feel hotter. It tasted like artificial cherry flavoring, and quite sweet. I wasn’t sure if I liked it, but set the bottle aside for later tests.
Before we went any further, I advised my partner that some of the items in our little bag of tricks were going to be water-based, and others would contain oils. The reason the distinction is important to note is because oil in any form breaks down latex, and I use latex safer-sex gear. For example, ID Juicy Lubes are all water-based, so we didn’t need to worry about them getting in places that would (hopefully) be coming into contact with latex condoms later. But though they seem similar, Wet Fun Flavors Oil Sampler aren’t latex safe, so they were relegated to sensitive areas other than genitals. Also, oils are difficult to flush from the vaginal canal. If you’re at all sensitive to yeast infections, they can initiate or exacerbate the issue — especially if they contain sugars and artificial colors, which they pretty much all do. So we would exercise restraint should we actually get past feeling like nervous high schoolers and get each other’s clothes off. I planned on getting by with a little help from my edible friends.
“Next?” I asked. He reached in the bag and came out with a set of Finger Paints. Four brightly colored tubs promised messy fun from the inside of their carrying case, and I could barely contain my excitement because I’d have more of an excuse to get under his clothes — I could shrug the shyness I was battling with the Shunga Oil.
We both grabbed colors and began dipping our fingers into the tiny pots and painting. The paint had an oily texture (they contain oil), and the color thinned when I spread it on his neck, so I moved to make hearts and stars beneath his shirt on his stomach and hips. The color was still inconsistent, but I’m a painter, so I let the art issue go — easy to do when a hot baritone player is rubbing edible body paint onto your shoulders and cleavage. Things were heating up, and I was getting paint on his nice shirt, so I elected to “clean” some of it off — and in one lick came up with a mouthful of the ickiest-tasting goo in the world. We both started laughing, I ran and got a towel — and we still had fun cleaning each other off. I suggested that some of our clothing should also come off — to avoid staining, of course.
Shirtless and smiling, he went right to the next item. This time a small, attractive box revealed itself in the candlelight to be the Kama Sutra Weekender Kit. I popped the top open and surveyed the mysterious, tiny bottles and tubs, then ran the tiny feather duster over my lover’s hands, arms, and chest as he examined the mini-potion bottles. Two of them were bath oil, so away they went, for later. The third was Oil of Love, an oil that I knew to be similar to the Shunga Oil in that it heats up, and contains oil. But since I had two similar products in my hands, a side-by-side comparison was in order.
But first I had to continue my feather duster explorations, and opened the little pot of Honey Dust to give it a try. I grabbed his ankle and dusted some along the side of his foot, following up my tickles with a taste. It tasted nice; light and subtly sweet. I grew bolder and began my heated oil comparisons, using the corks for applicators to give each of his nipples alternating applications. He noticed no difference in the heating action of the oils, but when I went in for a taste, the flavors were what set them apart. The Shunga Oil was a strong, robust cherry that reminded me of Luden’s Cough Drops, and the Oil of Love was not a simulated flavor, simply a blend of sweet and a little spice.
Both oils heated my mouth considerably, and we noticed that he felt the oils’ heat strongest when I breathed hot breaths onto them — but not when I blew cool air. Both were equally effective, so effective that we managed to spill Honey Dust all over my comforter. The last item left in the Weekender was the Pleasure Balm. One whiff and I knew it would be a minty, menthol-y experience. I slathered a bit onto his now-clean nipples and went to work — but could barely get started. The mint and menthol was so intense it opened up my sinuses, and instantly my tongue and mouth became numb! Yikes — I didn’t want to numb out my oral cavity! He noticed that it felt cool, but didn’t experience as much numbing as me, and I wondered aloud at the effect of the balm on genitals. Since it’s oil-based, I wasn’t going to find out — and besides, who wants numb genitals? Not me — and definitely not tonight.
I rinsed out my mouth and we waited, laughing and joking about numb genitalia for a few minutes until I could taste again, then wepulled out the Eros Fun Foam. I wondered, could this be like whipped cream, but cherry flavored? I had to find out. Or, rather, my lover did. He took my wrist, and extending my arm out he drew a line in foam along my inner arm. Coming out of the can, it didn’t tickle as I expected it; the can’s pressure must be relatively low. We watched the foam for a minute, and the anticipation was killing me as I waited for him to taste it — to taste me. The foam, though it looked a lot like hair mousse, sat exactly where he put it, no running or dripping. Awesome! I sat as still as I could as he licked, nibbled, and kissed the foam off — but that wasn’t very still, and I squirmed all over the place. All reports were good; he liked the taste and had fun cleaning it off.
Driven by lust, I greedily pulled out two more items from our bag of tricks and treats. Both were flavored lubricant sample packs — the ID Juicy Lube Sampler and a big kit of Wet Fun Flavors Oil Sampler. Like two kids at Christmas with a box of candies, we peered at the colorful packages, then ripped into them to get the flavor of choice. He chose the Wet flavors; I was going to be a big, giggly mango orange cocktail. He squeezed a drop onto his fingertips — we noted the thickness and artificial coloring — and he brought his fingers to my lips for a taste. It was syrupy-sweet, the flavor was good and strong, and I noticed it had a warming action to it. He took my hands and dropped a little into the sensitive hollows of my palms, rubbed it in and alternated licking and blowing hot breaths into each hand.
My choice was from the ID Juicy Lube kit: Bubblegum Blast. It was a flavor I’d been yearning to try — in my first book, I wrote wistfully about wanting to try it. My day had arrived! I broke the seal off pink plastic tube and dripped some lube onto his stomach. This product already seemed lighter than the Wet Oils; no color, thinner consistency, and no warming action. I drew it around slowly with my fingertip, and went in for a taste. It was light and tasty; sweet but not overpowering. And bubble gum was such a fun artificial flavor — there was no expectation on my part for it to even resemble a real-life fruit, and it tasted just like bubble gum. Actually, bubble gum and a sexy man all mixed together. Two great tastes.
But I couldn’t stop with the flavored lubes — I pulled the Body Talk Chocolate Tattoo Kit out of the now stained, ripped-open Good Vibes bag. I was already vaguely familiar with this kit from compiling research for a couples’ sex games article, so I knew that it consisted of a paintbrush, stencils of words, and a jar of chocolate. But the jar of chocolate was huge! I cracked it open and tried a taste. To my chocolate-loving amazement, it was good chocolate; what apleasant surprise. My sweetie was about to get even sweeter, and I grabbed one of the plastic stencils he was examining to make a thoughtful choice for my upcoming edible painting, my canvas being the sexy boy in front of me.
The stencils had words like “HOT,” “YUMMY,” and “LOVE” on them, and little symbols ranging from hearts to stars to a little bomb with a burning fuse. I quickly undid his belt and button fly, noted the very happy look on his face, and proceeded to stencil the word “HOT” on the gentle curve between hipbone and abdomen.
But we didn’t have success with the stencils every time. When my lover went to work decorating my inner thighs, most of the chocolate ran together and the letters came out fuzzy. This didn’t seem to bother him, though, and I could care less when he gave up with the stencils and painted big hearts on my inner thighs with the chocolate and paintbrush. But my efforts to create words were nearly flawless, and I even got a little fancy on his back by selecting individual letters out of the words to make my own messages. The difference was in the technique. The chocolate was just liquid enough for me to realize that if I simply dipped the brush and ran it across the letters, it would probably run under the letters and obscure the word — the canvas, after all, was moving, and his warm skin would make the chocolate more melty. So to get the perfect word, I put just a little chocolate on the brush and dabbed it on, left to right. Then I went back over it with a little more chocolate, left to right again, and gently peeled up the stencil — perfect.
Body Talk was by far our favorite toy in the bag — even though we progressed to oral sex afterward with the next item, Hot Licks warming lubricant. Out of all the edible tricks and treats, the tattoo kit was a flirty, multi-faceted seduction tool that really turned us both on, and made our arousal and spirited erotic play last. When I want something to be sexy for a lover, I want it to be sexy on many levels — and I want sexy to last more than ten minutes. As anyone who’s seen the film The Pillow Book and immersed themselves in director Peter Greenaway’s overwhelmingly romantic and erotic visuals will attest, painting words onto someone’s body is both visually and mentally stimulating. The act itself, the messages you write, and the sensations of painting and being painted on are all undeniable acts of slow and deliberate seduction. Then, it’s as you like it: take digital photos of your handiwork, paint more, lick and kiss your lover clean, or make love in a sticky mess. We plan on using the kit next weekend — off the clock!
The chocolate tattoo kit had the ambient room temperature in the triple digits, so when my lover pulled out Hot Licks warming lubricant (champagne flavor), there was only one destination I had in mind — between my legs. He asked where I wanted it, and my reply was to simply him my panties. So, with a purposeful slowness, he dripped the lube onto me. I waited for the sensation of heat, but nothing happened — yet. He rubbed it in with his hands, then went down for a few hot breaths. The heat his breath was pleasantly warm, much warmer than a normal breath, though not hot in an uncomfortable way. It was just right, and didn’t last too long. I mean, I think it didn’t last too long; once he realized that he liked the flavor, I forgot all about my notepad…
The next day, my sheets were ruined, we were both sticky and grinning from ear to ear, and he had some yellow fingerpaint still on his forehead. Over coffee we discussed the merits of artificial flavorings, and concluded that though imitation may be the sincerest form of flattery, imitation cherry still tasted like cough syrup. So what, we wondered, would it be like to play with the real thing, food? In a flash of realization that only two conspirators of pleasure could have, we decided to go shopping… for the next article.