A woman and her vibrator: a love story?
It wasn’t meant to go this way. It was meant as a fun assignment. A lot of women would dream of being asked to test drive every vibrator on the market and write about their experience for Playboy. And while it wasn’t something my parents would brag about — or even admitting knowledge of — anytime soon, I loved the idea of covering the sex business from a first-person perspective without having to sell myself or make porn.
Almost as an afterthought, it occurred to me that the research might also be informative.
At first, unwrapping packages of vibrators in every shape and size was exciting — unwrapping packages of anything is exciting! — and the fact that these anythings were also going to be getting me off only added to the thrill.
Rabbits of every color imaginable, USB-powered bullets, G-spot stimulators, dildos complete with real hair, eggs with microscope attachments that allowed you to look inside as you orgasmed (surely appealing only to future gynecologists) and many others began piling up.
And like any good researcher, I gave each of these sex toys a go, not ever thinking about developing a masturbation addiction. Some left me cold (especially the many dolphin-shaped ones, apparently considered an erotic animal), some caused awkward moments (take my advice: don’t ever try to carry on phone conversations about work while wearing a pair of vibrating panties), but none brought me as much pleasure as The Wand.