My First Vibrator: The Gift That Kept On Giving…And Giving, And Giving

Jimmyjane Lttle Chroma Vibrator

Believe it or not, I haven’t always been the sex toy aficionado that I am today. I was 21 years old when I got my first vibrator.

Against my will.

It’s actually a pretty funny story. Oh, you want to hear it, do you? Well, it’s awfully personal, I’m really not sure it’s something I’m comfortable sharing—aw, what the hell!

Happy Birthday to Me

Picture it. It’s my 21st birthday party. Dozens of family, friends and neighbors have come together in my parents’ backyard to celebrate my official ushering into the adult world. The drinks are flowing, everybody is feeling good. The time comes to open gifts, so everyone gathers around like it’s a goddamn pow-wow to watch me tear open my gifts and cards with wild abandon. Due to massive amounts of Tequila starting at breakfast time that morning, I’m practicing my “party girl” impersonation, and laughing too loud, hugging people too much and probably completely offending most of my relatives. Little did I know that the worst offense was to come.

The Personal Massager

It came time for me to open my friend Tommy’s gift. Tommy, my beautiful, flamboyantly gay friend. Tommy, the notoriously mischievous troublemaker of our group. I should have known but I was blissfully ignorant. I tore open the gift, with its pink, sparkly paper, expecting some fashionable scarf or skin care product inside.
To find myself face to face with a waterproof “personal massager.”

Which we all know is just a more socially acceptable way of saying VIBRATOR.

My Grandmother Is Watching

Or, in other words, THE MOST EMBARRASSING GIFT TO EVER RECEIVE IN FRONT OF YOUR PARENTS, COUSINS, YOUR AUNT GERTRUDE, UNCLE BILL, AND GRANDMOTHER, especially for a 21-year-old girl who still feels that sex toys falls under the category of “icky” and “ewww.”

The faces in the crowd varied from horrified disbelief to confusion to complete and utter amusement (specifically from Tommy, who was basking in the glow of his “gag” gift shenanigans with a perfect pearly white shit-eating grin). I wanted to rip his perfectly coiffed frosted tips out of his head.

I was frozen like a statue for a split second as it sunk in what I was holding in my hand. A million thoughts raced through my head. “Maybe nobody can tell what it is,” “Maybe I can convince them that it is an electric razor,” “What do I say?”

So I said the first thing that came to my head.

“What the FUCK?!”

And threw it at Tommy’s head.

The story still gets told at Thanksgiving and Christmas. Every year.

Out of Sight, Out of Mind

That night I promptly hid my new gift in the bottom drawer of my dresser, telling myself that I would throw it away in a dumpster far, far away the next day. But months passed and I totally forgot it was even there, and when I was moving out of my parent’s house, I was surprised to find my little “gag” gift underneath my New Kids on The Block pillowcases.

I laughed and almost turned around and tossed it in the trash. Almost. But something made me stop and take a closer look at the package since I had never actually seen one close up. It was small and non-threatening; it didn’t look like those big honking white scary-looking things that I envisioned when I thought of a vibrator, most likely an image from a movie or from thumbing through my dad’s old Playboys in the basement as a kid. And what’s this? Interchangeable heads? Hmmm…I was becoming intrigued. And more than a little turned on. Maybe I would just open it and examine it a little bit closer.

I Get Busy

So I used it. And then I used it again. And again, and again, and again. That puppy gave me about four good years of life and I will always remember it. Some girls look back fondly on their first piece of jewelry or even their first bra as a rite of passage into womanhood. For me, it was that little waterproof pocket rocket. Ahh, the memories…not to mention the orgasms. It brought me countless hours of self-induced bliss—in the bed, the shower, even on the living room couch I shared with my roommates when I wanted a little danger in my life (oh yes, I was a BAD, BAD girl).

Care to Join Me?

Soon I decided to take it to the next level and invite someone else to the party. I asked my virgin boyfriend whom I had recently deflowered if he wanted to use it on me. Looking back on it, probably not the best idea to whip out a vibrator in the middle of sex with a first timer who was still figuring out how to get the condom on expeditiously and last longer than five minutes. I don’t think I have ever seen a coed jump that fast out of bed and shoot out the door. Needless to say, he wasn’t ready for the wonderful world of sex toys, and our relationship was short lived after that.

Prude.

Luckily, my next partner appreciated all the wonderful things my little vibratory friend could add to love-making. Because it was a girl. She wasn’t afraid to bring a little hardware to bed with us. I used it on her, she used it on me, we used it together, we just used THE SHIT out of that thing. It. Was. Awesome.

It’s Not For Me…Really

Then one day after I met my husband, I went to flip the switch on my electric partner in crime and it didn’t come buzzing to life. So I changed the batteries and once again attempted to fire it up. Still nothing.

It was dead. And I think I might have cried just a little bit.

Now I was faced with the daunting and embarrassing task of buying another one. I really, really, REALLY did not relish the idea of walking into a sex toy shop and being forced to actually bring it to the counter, at least not without a wig and dark glasses. Thankfully, the age of internet shopping was dawning, and I had a very simple solution to my problem—INTERNET SHOPPING.

I had a whole new WORLD of sex toys at my fingertips, a wide variety of toe curling, purr-inducing instruments, and with the click of a mouse, I could have any one of them delivered straight to my door in discreet, plain packaging and no one would ever have to know.

And I never turned back.

So if you’re out there somewhere reading this with your perfectly coiffed frosted tips, thank you Tommy.

Thank you very, very much.

The Wise Young Mommy About The Wise Young Mommy

Petra Wise is a young, married freelance writer and mother of two. In addition to writing here at Toy With Me, you can find her writing about sex and motherhood at her blog "Sex and The Suburbs" , as well as writing about her life as a work from home mom, wife and sex toy aficionado on her blog, The Wise (Young) Mommy . She is also writing a book on motherhood and sex called Sex and The Suburbs: What Mom’s Don’t Talk About at PTA Meetings and Playdates—But SHOULD.

Comments

  1. See the comments section from yesterday, and you will find my similar story. Funny how we were both horrified at first and then turned into total toy whores!

  2. Excellent Post! OK, here’s my story.

    I was married to a prude, sort of, for 23 years. He never talked dirty in the bedroom, was not terribly creative and his libido was less than mine. We used no sex toys, ever. And yet, he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants when it came to other women. I know of one for certain, but I think there were several short-lived flings in the past. At the age of 49, I was traded in for a 35 year old.

    A gay co-worker of mine bought me my vibrator at Spencer’s. It was a basic white plastic vibrator. He bought it as a joke. I took it home and started to toss it in a drawer. Then I thought, hmmmm. So I tried it out. Oh baby! This is NICE! Over the course of the next few years, I used that toy quite a bit! I used to keep it under my ex’s pillow (hehehe). One night, my older daughter was here and she spent the night and slept in my bed. She sleeps with her arms under the pillow and guess what she found!!! LOL!!! She was totally completely grossed out! I don’t know why… I washed it after each use!

    Then I met my significant other and I FINALLY! FINALLY met someone who liked to have sex as often as I did! Even with diabetes, high blood pressure and cancer, this man runs rings around my ex in the bedroom! We have quite a bit of fun with my vibrator (we have one at his place too) We don’t use it all the time though. That keeps it from getting too regular.

    My vibrator died a couple of months ago. I need to buy a new one. Maybe I’ll look online instead this time.

  3. That’s BRILLIANT. I bought my first dildo myself as a gag to leave nonchalantly around my apartment in places designed to evoke the maximum weirdness potential. Like, the fridge.

    I figured that if people found it there they’d have no idea how to handle it (I was fairly young) and they’d be TOTALLY embarrassed. I always did enjoy embarrassing people. Still do. Can you tell?

  4. Aunt Becky,
    I think you’re awesome!

  5. I love this post…BAHAHA…I am so going to do that with the fridge when move out. MUAHAHA.

  6. My husband USED to be a prude…luckily he was recently faced with an altermatum. In an effort to be a little more kinky he went out and bought me a bright green vibrating "friend"…I tell him we don't need to use it all the time but really we do! LOL

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