My first vibrator.

My first vibrator was a gift from my boyfriend Kevin's mother, explicitly given to dissuade me from having sex with her son. This was ridiculous, partly because she was several months too late, and partly because the vibrator was not tall and muscular with soft brown eyes and a filthy-awesome sense of humor. And it never, ever, told me I was pretty.

(Kevin's father, incidentally, told me not to fuck his son because in his opinion the boy shouldn't be breeding. What an awesome dad. He had a point though, in retrospect.)

It was a "back massager" type, just a big black chunk of plastic you'd get in a drugstore rather than a sex store, as unsexy as a sex toy could be. Inevitably, Kevin and I ended up using it in bed together. We were curled up together awkwardly on the twin-size loft bed I had at the time, and he pressed it against my vulva, it made a big loud annoying sound, and...

I came. Instantly, explosively, and continuously. For as long as he kept it there, I was coming. It was torture and Heaven. It was also not very long.

I looked up at him, panting and grinning. "Do that again!" I said.
"No," he said. "I don't like that it can make you do that. I can't do that."
"Ha ha," I said, "That's a very funny and hilarious joke you made. Do it again."
"No, really," he said. "I don't want you using it."

So we had sex regular, and when he left he took the vibrator with him, and that was the last I ever saw of it.

I wouldn't stand for any part of this story now, but I was fifteen then and a very different person. I was agonizingly embarrassed shopping for underwear, there was no way I could've bought myself a vibrator or told my boyfriend to loosen the fuck up because this was awesome. When he took the toy away I just let it go.

I don't generally play with super-hard vibration when I have my druthers. I usually find that a tiny bullet vibe on the very lowest setting is the best for masturbation; more than that is simply overwhelming. But then again, I'm the kind of girl who likes to be overwhelmed a little. Being overstimulated and forced to come continuously and uncontrollably isn't something I'd inflict on myself--which is why I need someone to inflict it on me.

The flip side of Kevin's prudish insecurity, though, is Bill. Bill brought me a big ol' Magic Wand-type vibrator, pressed it against a dildo hilt-deep in my pussy, and went to town. It was great, I came like crazy, and... he didn't stop. I came again and again and it began to pass from ecstasy into irritation. I don't know how many times I can come, but it's more than I want to. After a while it's uncomfortable. But I was older then, and able to tell him to stop, so the night wasn't ruined. I was just amazed by how responsive my body is to that kind of stimulation--and to how dumb a guy thinking "wow, it's like an Infinite Orgasm Factory, I wonder if this will keep going for an hour" can get.

It's not something I can do to myself, and it's not something I'd want a partner to do to me all the time, but my reaction to hard vibration is definitely amazing. I'm kinda missing it now.