I’m not a big go-out-on-the-town-and-party-all-night kinda guy anymore. My early 30s have introduced me to the pleasures and luxuries of things like “staying in,” “having another cup of tea,” and “going to bed at a reasonable time.” Thus, Friday nights don’t hold the social appeal for me that they once did. That’s why I decided last Friday was the right time to finally crack my new Fleshlight Turbo out of its packaging and see if it lived up to its name.
A little context: I bought my first Fleshlight almost ten years ago (gosh, can that be right?) and learning to masturbate with that thing was something akin to a transcendent experience; everything I thought I knew about what I liked and what my penis needed was changed. It actually taught me to masturbate differently.
I experimented with different suction levels (adjusting the cap at the non-penis end of the Fleshlight allows one to restrict airflow, creating a vacuum within the chamber, as you thrust in and out), I experimented with different lubes, and most frustrating of all, I experimented with fucking it. Frustrating because, unless you’ve got one of those cool pieces of furniture with a hole ready made for your fleshlight tube, you’re gonna end up jamming that thing under pillows, between the mattress and box spring, between couch cushions, into shoes braced against the floor underneath you, and any number of other places I could someone could fit it and try to impregnate it.
But impregnate it I did.
I fucked that thing for ten solid years (with regular washings and cleanings and recoating the skin with that weird Fleshlight Powder of Life), and when I finally dropped the case into the recycle bin on moving day earlier this year, it had seen more action than Blanche Devereaux did at the Rusty Anchor. And it had served me well.
All of that is to say, if you aren’t a believer in the Cult of Fleshlight already, there’s good reason why you should be. It is one of the few sex tools (I hate to call it a toy, especially when it takes itself so very seriously) that does more than what it promises.
And the Turbo (Thrust) model takes my old Fleshlight Ice to school! And then beats it right to death.
The Turbo shares the common body shape of other Fleshlight models (as in, it vaguely resembles an actual flashlight), and promises “patended blow job action” described as “the most realistic and satisfying alternative to oral sex.”
Now, I’m here to talk about a masturbator, not to get on my high horse about sex stuff. But that’s BS. It’s not going to be a blow job, because it’s a rubber tube fitted inside of a plastic tube. It’s silly to perpetuate the idea that what you’re going to do with this sex tool is a substitute or even a simulacrum for sexual engagement with another human. Masturbation is not a substitute for sex and we gotta stop treating it like that. Masturbation is sex. It is fine as the main course, and not a subsitute for blow jobs you’re not getting.
Luckily for my high horse, that box-front marketing speak about blowjobs is really where that idea ends (although their product diagram suggests that this thing has been crafted to simulate “lips” “tongue” and “throat,”). Mercifully, the Turbo models have moved away from the idea of making the front two inches look like tiny buttholes or baby-sized mouths, or rubber vaginas. I have a really difficult time imagining that anyone out there needed 40mm of Fleshlight’s Superskin material mounded up at the front to simulate a butthole in order to fill that thing up with sperm.
Described as a “non-anatomical orifice,” the round hole at the front was clearly designed for professional masturbators, and not somebody who tried to get laid and couldn’t. This is a penis tool that has been crafted precisely to its purpose and with its target audience in mind, like some Excalibur of jack off tools. I goddamn love that.
So, Friday night: (full disclosure – I smoked half a joint and took half a boner pill before endeavoring on my inaugural run, but I’ve used it since and it’s just as good without boner pills and weed) I planted myself in front of the computer, pulled up some tabs I’d had saved for this exercise, and got myself to work. After my favorite November Masturbation Jam, I decided to call this my Party For One.
LOAD 1: While I had PornHub and XTube favorites already in the queue, I got distracted by a Handjobs story I had open for a blog post I was writing. I decided that I’d work the easy one out to “By The Fire” from Handjobs’ November 1997 issue. It was a good choice because I did not last long enough for a whole video to play.
The first thing I noticed was that the tensile strength of the superskin material at the front of the tube seemed very cleverly structured; in other words, the non-anatomical orifice let me all the way inside, even at only %75 of a boner. I’ve had other strokers that were so tight right at the front that nothing less than full mast was gonna open them up. I love being able to get my lube-slimed penis all the way into something and let it swell the rest of the way up inside. The nodules just past the “throat” area were phenomenal for that.
The story I was reading was only six pages long, but I didn’t even make it to the end before I was already bucking and seeding my new Turbo. And it was glorious. I almost didn’t want to pull out afterwards.
LOAD 2: For this one, it was time to switch over to some video action, and this guy has become my ‘ol’ reliable’ on PornHub. I love his enthusiasm and the plainness with which he can stroke and groan and sperm. And none of it feels especially porn-y or performative; he’s just a natural bator and a big Fleshlight enthusiast!
Which means he was great to bounce along to. We were both trying to put some babies in our respective Fleshlights at the same pace. Normally I’m the tiniest bit aware of what my neighbors might be able to hear, groan-wise, but this new Fleshlight was pulling noises outta me that I was unfamiliar with outside of a Jacks party (JO Clubs). To say nothing of the noises happening inside the FL as my first load sloshed around my re-lubed dick. It was a magical 10 minutes.
This time, I didn’t pull out, but instead played a bit with the interior textures of the Turbo, turning it slowly around and trying to discern what ribbings and bumps were my favorite.
Though, truly, who could choose?
LOAD 3: I didn’t really anticipate there being a third one in an evening (though it isn’t unheard of for me), but I sat down at the computer to check an email, and had to move this tab out of the way to do it, and something about seeing this dude’s hard boner teasing me just under the play button just got the better of me. Before I knew it, I had grabbed my Fleshlight outta the sink, and was back inside it, with two loads slurping out and around the edges.
By the time I was done, the Fleshlight was full, I was drained, and cheesecake and tv beckoned to me from the living room.
I don’t rave about a ton of stuff, but I genuinely don’t have a bad word to say about the Fleshlight Turbo (Thrust). This company has thought of everything in their 23 year history, and this model is damn near unimprovable from where I sit (an office chair with some worn-in protein stains).
My only complaint – and the thing that keeps me from using the Fleshlight every single time I need to unload – is that I hate cleaning it. I hate cleaning it in the sink, I hate cleaning it in the shower, in a box, with a fox. I hate that part. I wish there were some way to address that element of the FL experience, but I can’t imagine what it would be.
While I try to think of some self-cleaning-litter-box add-on I can pitch to Interactive Life Forms, LLC, go check out the selection on their site.
But – three loads later – I’m happy to tell you the Fleshlight Turbo is a bargain at twice the price.