I didn’t so much select a toy as turn a blaring shade of red and wish I were back in the safety of my safe and non-threatening porn studio, while Reginald, whose idea all this had been, made suggestions. He quite liked the idea of remote controls, as I recall.

After a near meltdown, I finally picked a cheap, slim, plastic, vibrating insertable. Doubt not that I used it often and to excellent effect over the coming years, but that experience taught me two things:

1. Never go sex toy shopping on someone else’s terms and expect to have fun.
2. If I hadn’t had an excuse to go toy shopping, even with the internet existing, it may well have been years before I owned a proper sex toy.

When I finally got around to buying a sex toy for myself, it actually was years later, and it was completely different. The toy was, and I was. I decided what I wanted based, not on what my scary ex-boyfriend would be able to afford/be comfortable with/not think I was depraved because of, but on the pure intention of giving myself pleasure. I traded my own money for it in a declaration that my orgasms were worth something to me. And they were motherfucking poetic orgasms, too.

I’m not saying it’s not worthwhile to buy and accept sex toys for and from your partner. In fact, I will say right now that it is. But the other thing I’m trying to say is that sex toy purchases tend to be imbued with significance. When you buy one, it’s usually with a fairly powerful intention: self-love, wanting another person to have orgasms, or often a totally new type of sexual exploration. There is a reason we call one of the most popular sex toys of all time a Magic Wand.

Oh, and by the way, Buy A Sex Toy day is June 4th, which is a mere month from now! Let’s make magic, people.

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Attention Doctor Who fans: You deserve to know that someone out there has made the greatest dildo. Apparently, this prototype is not usable because the miniature TARDIS is too close to the edge and causing tearing to the silicone, but it is still the greatest.

The. Greatest.

In short, who wants to fuck themselves with a glittery time vortex? Because I sure do.

(via Toplessrobot, called to my attention by a tip from Smith, a clearly awesome person.)

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I realize we’ve been through this before. I realize that I want a terrible lot of novelty dildos, some of which even exist. But I swear, this time it’s serious.

I want a unicorn horn dildo. I want to strap it on and have a majestic unicorn horn cock. I want to strut around with it, admiring myself, horned creature. I want to fuck a woman with it and give her the most obscene orgasms: orgasms that are truly, offensively beautiful.

I want to lock our fingers together as I plunge my majestic cock into her and tell her with my eyes that this thing we’re doing, which has the impossible nestled right there in the middle of it all, is absolutely true. There is nothing truer or more honest than the moment when I make her come.

We are an improbable creature together, more beautiful than sense.

Or, failing that, I want to own a unicorn horn dildo because fuck you, I have a unicorn horn dildo. And it can double as a narwhal tusk. Holy shit why am I not ordering this right now?

Oh, cause I’m broke? Okay, I guess that’s valid.

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Serving suggestion.

Turns out they’re not nearly as scary as I thought they’d be. But they do make me awfully giggly…

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And I have to admit, that sort of bugs me about myself.

I’m not a big fan of downtime. I would prefer that every moment with me be mindblowing for my lovers. In a perfect world my lips would vibrate, my cervix would have a tongue, and my hands stroking a penis would be as Aphrodite’s hands. In a perfect world. As it is, they are regular hands, and I sometimes worry that my handjobs are boring. There. I said it.

This is not why I gave my boyfriend Laramy the Tenga Egg Babeland sent me. But it’s part of why I offered to help him try it out. Also, though, sex toys are a hobby of mine, and you’re supposed to share your hobbies with your partner, right? It’s what couples do. Astoundingly, Laramy seemed much more eager to explore this than my equally avid interests in yoga and belly dancing.

The Tenga Egg is a cute, clever disposable masturbation sleeve. You can wash and reuse it if you’re careful, but it’s not the most robust sex toy ever made. It’s made of soft, flexible silicone elastomer, and available in six different textures. The cute, clever part is really in the packaging: these sleeves come in little plastic eggs with colorful labels. You can buy a fairly adorable single egg for $8.50, or you can save money and get a set of six in a crazy adorable egg carton! I haven’t seen a men’s sex toy presented this whimsically since some wag made it suddenly seem possible to fuck Yoda Yaddle.

You know you wish you'd thought of it first.

I was excited to see how Laramy liked the Tenga Egg, and maybe even get to feel like a handjob goddess. Why should my mouth get all the accolades? I mean, seriously!

The "Stepper"

The different textures include: what seem to be twisty vertical ribs, wavy horizontal ribs, a spider web (clearly the most erotic pattern known to man), knobby polka dots, thin spun thread patterns, and, the one Laramy ended up with, the “Stepper”, which looks– just to put this in the sexiest terms possible– like semicircular flaps arranged like scales. Or something. It seemed promising… stimulating.

We tore open the little packet of lube that comes with the Egg, applied it to both toy and tool, and took turns stroking. The sleeve is kind of like a looser, thicker, stretchier condom. Laramy said it felt good and the material was pleasant, but he didn’t seem to feel transported, as you might be if you were getting a handjob from, say, a goddess. Gradually, two problems became  apparent:

1. The lube provided was more sticky than it was at all lube-like.
2. The textured part of the Egg was concentrated around the sides, instead of the tip. All that exciting, scaly sensation was focused on the less sensitive parts of his penis. When fully stretched, the sleeve was completely untextured around the head of his cock.

The first problem is easy: inferior lube tends to get sticky. I would generally recommend someone use a lube they know they like when playing with a new toy anyway. But the second issue? Made no sense to either of us. Why would anyone design a toy with an emphasis on interesting textures and make sure those textures only touched shaft?

“Maybe it’s having to stretch too far because your cock is too big,” I suggested. Laramy did not hate that postulation. I think that might actually be what it was, though. Laramy does have a formidable dick, and otherwise we’re looking at just a glaring design flaw. Whatever the issue, the Tenga Egg didn’t work for him, although he thought it was promising in concept. He actually asked me if it was okay if he threw it away.

We ended the session with Laramy washing that horrendous lube off his cock and fucking me, which is usually exactly what I’m hoping to get out of a handjob.

Thanks, Babeland!

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Aside from the nymphomania, the utter absurdity, the crazy hair, the whimsy, the sluttishness, physical disabilities, geekery both sexual and general, and all the aberrant philosophies, I’m totally and completely normal. Probably just about as normal as you, anyway. No offense.

And you know what? I love sex toys. Normal people love sex toys. Normal people buy them. And normal people have a whole hell of a lot of fun using them.

And I recently bought my first glass dildo in honor of Buy A Sex Toy day! Here’s what it looks like:

Some of you may remember my long-cherished dream to own a tentacle dildo. Oh yeah, I make shit happen.

What did you buy, oh-so-normal readers?

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Saturday, June 4th is Buy A Sex Toy Day!

The idea behind BAST is simple. Imagine a world where no one’s ashamed of buying sex toys. Where you only hide them because you don’t want other people to steal them. Imagine feeling free to compare favorites with your friends and safely share with your partners without worrying about threatening them.

Imagine thinking of sex toys as a healthy, normal part of life, and using them is no more pathetic or deviant than using a toothbrush. It’s just more fun.

That’s the kind of world I’d like to live in. That’s why I started BAST day. Because if you buy a sex toy and you brag about it, on the internet or elsewhere, you will almost certainly make at least one person think, “Well, if normal people are doing it, maybe I’ve got the wrong idea about sex toys…”

And from that moment, with that epiphany, that person has a chance to be a little happier. Orgasms have that much power.

So if you’re with me, blog this, tweet this, social network the fuck out it, whatever you kids are doing. And treat yourself to something special this weekend. You deserve it.

Then don’t forget to brag about it.

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So when I end up saying “meh” about a sex toy, it’s not because it didn’t bring me to orgasm. Let’s face it, it probably did. However, I’m reasonably sure I could get off by slapping my vulva with a wooden spoon.

Hrm. Brb. Yup.

For me to like a toy, though, it has to live up to my increasingly picky standards. And right now that means I have to at least want to use it again, ever.

Having said that, my opinion on Vibratex’s elastomer Rabbit Pearl? A resounding “meh”. Actually, I can go one further: I was actively disappointed.

I am far from anti concerning rabbit-style vibes. Didn’t I enjoy my Jackrabbit until it squealed uncle and then disintegrated from overuse? But the Pearl seemed like a huge step backward in power and detail. Maybe there’s a good reason for that: it is “the original” after all.

The Rabbit Pearl is famous, bitch. This you must realize. The packaging wants you to understand that it was “Featured in HBO’s Sex and the City”, and that this was the first dual action rabbit-style vibrator on the market. This might be a case of mistaken identity, though, because Babeland is telling me that the actual T.V. star toy is the Vibratex Rabbit Habit, but yeah. I don’t really care about all that. I just want to get off, and none of those Sex and the City chicks is really my type, so I’m not concerned with what they put in their pussies.

The Pearl is made of elastomer, a phthalate-free, latex-free, material that’s safe with silicone or water-based lubes. It’s soft and rubbery. The eponymous pearls are plastic beads that create textural interest as they move around the rotating shaft of the dildo portion of the toy.

Oh, and funny story: This thing takes three C batteries to actually work. If you go out and buy AA batteries it will not magically take them based on your good intentions and desire to get off now. This is, admittedly, not a shortcoming of the toy.

The Rabbit Pearl’s control system is different from the rabbit vibes I’m used to. Instead of buttons on the base of the toy, there’s a separate (also dildo-shaped, so don’t get confused) control console connected by wires to the shaft. The controls are simple:  there are two dimmers the console, one to control each type of action: shaft and vibrator. The separate console makes it a little more versatile and accessible for partner play, but considerably less one-handed. I found it difficult to click and close smut-infested tabs while changing the intensity of my Pearl.

This toy, like all rabbit-style vibes, boasts an insertable shaft that rotates (with the beads adding interest), and an attached rabbit-skinned bullet vibe. The latter’s ears, soft and floppy, are meant to flicker over the clitoris. The vibrations get reasonably intense at their height, and are never disruptively loud; the rotation is basically always quiet and uninspiring. The shaft/bullet one-two punch has made many, many women happy over the years. Me, I find that when the shaft is inserted the rabbit ears don’t line up quite right with my clit. This makes the whole dual-action thing more like pick-one-action for me, at least. Do I have odd pussy-to-clit proportions? Possibly.

But honestly, I suspect even someone with a perfect Fibonacci’s vulva could do better. I’ve had better vibrators; I’ve had better dildos. I suspect there are better combos. Overall, I wouldn’t bother with The Rabbit Pearl with all the other amazing toys that exist in the world.

Thanks, Babeland!

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BAST is a high holy day, full of excuses to buy sex toys and then brag about them on the internet. So, if you want to participate, start thinking about what you want to get.

But hey, if you’re getting this thing, whatever in the world it is?

…Maybe this you don’t have to brag about, per se. Maybe you just keep this purchase to yourself.

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