Sex Toy Tales: Tales

Currently located in the drawer in Jo—short for Josephine—and Patrick's—not really short for anything—bedside table, I am a Rabbit Pearl vibrator, a tubular pink plastic device five inches long, one and half inches wide, used for the enhancement of sexual pleasure. Manufactured in Japan out of durable vinyl, I was purchased for approximately ninety dollars from Good Vibrations while the couple vacationed in San Francisco. It was my first impression that I was selected from among other similar devices for my “playful”—according to Jo—and non-threatening—unspoken but clear from Patrick—appearance.

Indicative of my design and construction in Japan, which customarily does not create dildos that actually look like penises, I resemble less a realistic depiction of a phallus than I do a child's toy. About halfway down my main shaft, for example, is a ring of several dozen plastic pearls, which energetically vibrate when I am activated. Continuing my “playful” design scheme, anchored below this band, is what appears to be a comic representation of a rabbit, with fluttering ears to stimulate the clitoris—thus the English interpretation of my Japanese name.

In addition to the rabbit component's buzzing ears, I also vibrate and oscillate, thanks to a special mechanical arrangement in my shaft that gently corkscrews. All of this—the buzzing bunny ears, the vibrating shaft, the flexing of my shaft, the ring of beads—is controlled by a simple mechanism at the end of a thin power cord.

For a few days after my sale to Jo and Patrick, I felt that my purpose was going to unappreciated, as—still wrapped in brown paper—I was exiled to the bottom of an overstuffed suitcase. This puzzled me because while I noted a certain discomfort from Patrick as he lifted me off a shelf and laughed at my bunny and beads, I also noticed a special twinkle in Jo's very curious eyes.

A day or so and several hundred miles later, I was pleasantly surprised when my darkness was pulled away revealing those same sparkling green eyes. “Come on, let's try it,” Jo said.

Batteries were inserted into my control box and, with a slide of one of my switches, she giggled, nearly hysterically. Patrick, though, grinned and was obviously less enamored of me than his girlfriend. It was at that moment, she laughing, he smiling but tense, that I decided I would be Jo's vibrator.

“Here,” she said, joy never leaving her lips as she slipped off her t-shirt. “Touch me with it.” Reaching down, she cupped a small but beautifully perky breast, pointing a dark, rosy nipple out at him.

Cautiously, he reached out with me, grazing the hardened knot with my gently buzzing head. At the contact, she squealed delightfully and jumped back a bit, palm sliding between my plastic and her breast. “Oh—I'm sorry,” he said, turning me off.

“No, no—just a bit of a shock, that's all. Try it again.” Her voice was rich and throaty, a warming purr. Hand away, she pulled her shoulder back, enthusiastically offering both her breasts.

Biting his tongue in concentration, he slid my switch, taking a long moment to adjust my vibration. Then, stroking my humming tip along the underside of each breast, he glanced back and forth from the sight of me sending undulations through her silken skin to her face for the tiniest flick of discomfort.

But she was certainly not uncomfortable. Arms flexing as I was touched to more or less sensitive areas, her breath quickened and her eyelids fluttered with quivers of pleasure.

“Okay,” Jo said, fanning her fingers in front of her nipples in mock surrender. “Whew,” then they were fluttered before her face, a pretend swoon.

“You like it?” Patrick said, holding me—still excitedly buzzing though not yet oscillating—off to the side.

“It's weird—but nice,“ Jo said. Thumbs into sides of panties, she slid them down. Sitting on the side of their bed she gently spread her legs. “Try it here.”

Patrick's voice snagged in his throat. “Just a minute,” he said, coughing between words. Putting me on the bed next to her, shoes were kicked aside, pants dropped, shirt pulled off and tossed into a corner, shorts following suit. Aroused, he leaned forward, kissed her as only new lovers can, grazing a hand across her breast and hardening nipple.

Breaking the kiss, she said “Come on, try it on me.”

“You sure?” he said. Maybe because she was too excited by the prospect of enjoying me, she did not notice his tone—or that his erection dipped, wavered, and slightly sagged.

“Yeah, just a little at first.” Leaning back, she displayed herself. “Right here.” A finger at the top of her mons, pulling gently back, showing her deep purple hood and the red bead of her clitoris.

“Sure.” Picking me up, he took even longer to adjust my settings. “No problem.” Prudently he brought me down until my vibrating head was just above her and then down. Contact made.

Puckering up her mouth, she sang a long, simple melody of “oooohs” and slowly bucked the muscles of her ass in accompaniment. In response, her other lips puffed, moistened, spread. After a moment her eyes opened, after being shut in concentration, and she uttered a few real words: “Wow, that's nice. Try it all the way.”

“Okay, if that's what you want.” Down from her clit, gliding between those slippery lips, and—there—hovering at the entrance. "Ready?"

“Uh huh,” she said, fully reclined, legs up and apart, excitement prominent.

In then—head first. Guided in with care, just enough force to part the inner ring muscles and, with a warm wet slide, within. Virgin no more, my own pleasure was as unmistakable as Jo's: a change in mechanical tempo mirroring her own escalating rate and shallowness of her breaths, flexing of her muscles. Mine in purpose fulfilled, hers in being filled by my Japanese-designed purpose.

Out then, and back in, and back out, a steady humming rhythm. Discovery, then Patrick mischievously slid one of my controls, and activated my band of pearls. Discovery, for her as well, as they acted against that sensitive area just an inch or so within her vagina, and Jo reacted with a deep, powerful moan of delight.

“Wait,” she said after a stretched moment, pulling up from her obvious pleasure. “Try it like this.” Hand down, she guided me in deeper, pushing until I was all the way in. “Do the ears now.” Giggling, she drew her lips apart.

“You're the boss,” he said, voice slow and deep. “Whatever you want.”

Control box altered, my rabbit ears began their frantic fluttering, thin plastic buzzing between the valley of her upper lips, grazing the aroused tip of her clit. Control box altered again, he added twisting oscillations to my performance, and even deeper, even more throaty sounds to her orchestrations.

Pink vinyl within pinker depths, plastic vibrating along with her own excited movements; this was what I was made for. In being Jo's vibrator, I was as pleased‹—I believed at the time—as only she could be.

But even though I am a Rabbit Pearl vibrator, manufactured in Japan, and retailing for approximately ninety dollars, and purchased in San Francisco at Good Vibrations, I was mistaken about something important.

Her orgasm was as delightful as it was loud and strong: legs stretched out and stiff, hands clutching clumps of bedspread, at first she hissed between tightly locked teeth but then amplified to a soulful, bass bellow of ecstatic release. Coming having come and fading to gone, she fell back, body sheened with sweat, panting easing in volume and duration.

“Oh, wow,” she said, giggles spilling out after the words. “That was intense.”

“I'm glad,” he said, turning me off and putting me aside.

“Are you sure?” Jo said, climbing up onto her elbows to look at him. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, voice still low, deep, but also throaty with a different quality. “I was kind of nervous at first—that you'd like it too much, you know? But seeing you like that, man, it was such a turn on. I liked it, too. A lot.”

Arms wrapped around him, she planted a flurry of kisses on his lips, cheeks, neck, and chest. “That's wonderful—I hoped you would be. It was lots of fun, but only because you were on the other end of it.” Sly grin on her glistening face, Jo added: “You know, there's a lot of other places we can try it—on you, as well as me.”

“I'm game,” Patrick said, sweet smile on his face. “Let's play.”

Yes, I am Rabbit Pearl vibrator, who resides when not in use in a bedside table. I am certainly a tubular pink plastic device five inches long, one and half inches wide, and was manufactured in Japan out of durable vinyl.

But I am not just Jo's vibrator. Instead I am a device used for the enhancement of sexual pleasure by both Jo as well as her boyfriend, Patrick—and they, and I, couldn't be happier.