We never really forget our firsts do we? First kisses. First sex. First orgasm. Mmmm. Such delicious and wonderful firsts. I’ll never forget my first sex toy.
I had just graduated from high school and was working as a massage therapist. One of my gigs was to work at the Fashion Place Mall near Salt Lake City, Utah. We’d have these massage chairs and people would come and pay $5 for a few minutes massage. Worst job. Ever. By the time the company took its cut, I ended up making $2.30 an hour. My feet hurt. My back hurt. And cheapskates never tipped. I would usually grab a cookie from the Mrs. Field’s in the mall, which nearly blew my entire profit margin for the day. But I medically needed that cookie.
There was a Sharper Image store in the mall, I think it’s still there. They sell expensive things that don’t need to be that expensive. After my shift, I would wander around that store and look at all the ridiculously priced items. One of them was a “Wand Personal Massager”. Google it. I’m sure you’ve seen one. I hadn’t. My massage therapist brain was trying to figure out what sort of therapeutic benefit you could get from such an awkward machine. It didn’t make any sense.
I spoke with my friend about it and she said, “You know it’s not really a ‘massager’, right?” Clearly, I did not. My naive mind didn’t understand. Then she said, “Women use them on themselves. Down there.” Ahhhh . . . down there. We mustn’t go . . . down there.
One of my greatest blessings and curses in life is being incredibly curious. So of course, I couldn’t let it go. I wanted to know what using that . . . down there . . . felt like. I became obsessed. Nearly every day that I worked there I would look at it. It cost $45.00. That was like, a million massages. And what if it sucked? I didn’t want to blow $45 on a crappy experience.
Payday came and my bank account was less sad than normal and I could finally afford “the Wand”. I picked up a box and then brought it to the counter. The checkout guy was my age and kinda cute, so of course, I immediately chickened out and put it back. The next day it was a kind looking lady. So I went for it. I was embarrassed. Like the first time you buy tampons or condoms. She rang me up. She was an older black lady and she said in a whisper, “MMMmm, HHHmmm. Girl, you’re gonna love this.”
I took it home and prepped everything. I sat on my bed in a t-shirt and nothing on below the waist. I carefully read the instructions. I always carefully read the instructions. My husband hates me for it. I must have made a funny sight with the “wand” on my sheets and me studiously reading naked from the waist down. The instructions were completely unhelpful.
I turned it on and the head began to vibrate violently. It startled me and I yelped. My yelp turned into a giggle as I laughed at the whole situation. I switched it to a lower setting that seemed much more sane. Then . . . I didn’t know what to do with it. I knew it wasn’t supposed to go in me but what exactly did I “massage”? I would have to experiment. I was a scientist on the road to discovery! I was following in the great female tradition of Madame Curie, Grace Hopper, Sally Ride, and all other proud women scientists the world over! Or close enough.
I applied the vibrating head to my vagina lips. They just wiggled comically back and forth. Not the greatest feeling in the world. But it was sending vibrations up higher to where my clitoris was and that . . . that was different. I instinctually brought it up higher and then it hit the spot. It was like nothing I’d ever felt before. It was like that scene from 2001: A Space Odyssey. Flashes of orgasmic light flew past my vision. I could only roll my eyes back and hold it in place. I lost track of everything. I could feel my lips engorge and the head of the massager was soon slippery with my juices.
I arched my back. I ground myself against the head. Nature completely took over. It was a pathway to some primal sex portion of my brain. I had my first orgasm with it in record time. Less than a minute. Guys, you can relate. 😉 But I didn’t want it to end. So I kept holding it in place. Another quickly came. Then another. I was sweating and panting. My legs were shaking. Each one was bigger than the last. I never knew this was possible. It felt like I had become my vagina and nothing else existed. I felt pulse after pulse. Wave after wave of electric pleasure. It felt as though rivers of wetness were running down my legs and over my butt cheeks.
Then the BIG one came. I cannot to this day describe what one of those feels like. It’s . . . indescribable. It shook me to my core and it felt like I was going to pee myself. I couldn’t hold it in against the wave of pleasure and so fluid just shot out of me in one big spurt all over my sheets. I registered that I had just peed the bed. The vibrations became too intense and so I finally turned it off. This was my first real experience with the magic of orgasms.
When I went to clean up I realized my “pee” didn’t smell or feel like pee. Years later I would learn that this was “female ejaculation” but that’s an entirely different topic. People say that it’s just pee, but I can tell you from my experience that A) it didn’t look, feel, or smell like pee and B) it didn’t come out of the same place.
So. That was my first sex toy. That wand brought me years of pleasure until one day, it just died. I was heartbroken. Literally. I didn’t want to throw it away. I wanted to bury it to show it the proper respect. I’m not even kidding. Nowadays I have a collection of toys that each serve a different purpose. I have anal plugs and beads. A massive cock shaped dildo. A tiny finger sized wand. A pump and a few others. I really want to try those ben wa balls. I’ll save up and then I’ll have to do a review.
Ladies, do you like your toys? Guys, do you buy toys for your ladies or use your own? Are your wives hesitant to use them? I’ve had lots that just didn’t do it for me. So like with everything, you have to experiment and see what works for you.