I’m on edge, watching my every move. Like the first day on a new job. Like the feds are after me. Like a driving test. Like masturbating at age 15. But I am not actually in a high-stress situation. I just have something in my vagina. And its name is Evi. The Aneros Evi is a… kegel exerciser. Imagine me saying that with the same sort of hesitance in my voice as when I say “don’t worry, I can kill that spider” or “surely the Republicans can’t continue standing by him after this.” In actuality, the Evi is more defined by what it is not: it is not a butt plug (although it looks just like one), and it is . . . read more

Four years ago, my G-spot was forever changed by a revolutionary sex toy called the Stronic Eins. Not really a dildo and definitely not a vibrator, the Eins features an internal weight that facilitates a back-and-forth thrusting movement. This “pulsator” felt unlike anything I’d ever tried, wiggling against my G-spot so enthusiastically, and quickly became one of my favorite insertables. Fun Factory’s Stronic line proved that innovation is still possible in the sex toy industry — true innovation, not gimmicky and spurious “innovation” with air quotes. So a few weeks ago when an email popped up with the subject line CONFIDENTIAL: Secret Preview of New Stronic?, it set my heart fluttering. I was in the middle of writing a different email, but I immediately . . . read more

I’ve never told you much about my labia, but I guess now’s as good a time as any. I’d describe my outer labia as puffy, yet unobtrusive. My inner labia? Visible but modest. Usually, my labia don’t cross my mind often… but then the Dame Eva came along, and suddenly I was digging around in there like a raccoon foraging through the garbage. Engineered with the wishful thinking that the vulva is merely a puzzle to be solved, Eva is a rechargeable vibrator with flexible arms that tuck under the labia to secure the toy to one’s vulva, against the clitoris. It’s sort of a modern-day, body-safe take on the laughably-bad strap-on vibrators of yore (see: “I am not easily embarrassed when it comes to sex toys, . . . read more

I am one of many who grew up getting my orgasms from the bathtub faucet. Legs spread, back against the bottom of the tub, water pouring delightfully over my clit, I’d lay there with my mind split between thrilling newfound pleasure and neurotic calculation of how long I could run the bath before it seemed suspicious. I almost certainly ran up my parents’ water bill from roughly 2000 to 2002. (Sorry, guys. At 14 I was too stupid to even know water bills existed.) But I later graduated to circling a Sharpie over my clit through my underwear, and after that, vibrators. Glorious, glorious vibrators. So many shapes, so many options, such ease. I started masturbating sitting up, at my desk, eyes glued on the naked bodies . . . read more

Recently my girlfriend admitted that, while fingering me, they wondered, is it possible to break someone’s fingers with a vagina? So I’m being up front with you: that is the caliber of vagina we’re dealing with, here. That is my ridiculously toned PC muscle. That is years and years of squeezing dildos like a boa constrictor seizing its prey. I do it without thinking, because much of the pleasure I derive from dildos comes from throttling them. Maybe I’m imagining I’m crushing men’s heads. I dunno. This is to say that I’m not the prime candidate for the Minna kGoal,1 a pelvic floor strengthening vibrator with corresponding phone app and kegel workouts. However, I’ve always wanted an accurate measure of my vaginal strength to flaunt at . . . read more

I’m in love. Its name is the We-Vibe Dusk, and I’m using it all wrong. This toy is supposed to be a vibrating butt plug. It looks like a butt plug. It functions adequately as a butt plug. But something compelled me to put this toy in my vagina, and it was absolutely one of the smartest things I’ve ever done. Like, on par with buying my first mug warmer, or thinking “hm, maybe I’ll start a blog.” Immediately, the Tango vibrator in the base nestled up against my clit, so closely that it seemed there was a chance of bringing myself to orgasm without touching anything. Just sitting there like a blob. Could I do it? I gripped the Dusk with my PC muscles, pulling it . . . read more

I think my boyfriend is going to break up with me over the LELO Ida. I can see it in his eyes. The despair. The dread. When I say, “hey, you know what we should do?” his features fall because he’s afraid I’m going to say “have sex.” But instead I say, “watch Orange Is The New Black” or “boil the potatoes for dinner” and all is forgiven. For now. Named after a long-ago-discontinued toy in LELO’s first line, Ida sounds like a cute grandmother rather than a sex toy that’s gonna rock your relationship to its core. Don’t be deceived. Marketed as a “couples’” toy, Ida has a 3″ long, 1″ wide shaft that rotates (“like the constantly-wagging finger of . . . read more

Don’t ask me why I had to try a strap-on vibrator. I’m ashamed to admit that I ever thought it would work. It’s just that I’m getting so desperate to find something that clearly doesn’t exist — something that can adequately stimulate me hands-free during sex, and bring me to orgasm. Oh, it’s a laugh, I know. I decided I would give strap-on vibes one chance to wow me, and that chance came in the form of the Impulse Butterfly. It has garnered decent reviews, and is made of TPR (thermoplastic rubber). It looks really stupid, but there’s not much we can do about that — it’s like a rule that all strap-on vibes come in ridiculous shapes. This one happens . . . read more