Here’s a ‘memory lane’piece for #WickedWednesday for week 510
Scene Setting: At this point in my story I am no longer a virgin, but still fairly new to things (as my status only changed about 6 months previously). My current sexual partner is a couple of years older than me and more worldly wise, he also owns a car. That is where the majority of our sexual activity takes place, parked up under the cover of darkness, we’re free to take our time, experiment and find out what we like. I’m a college student, on the pill and nobody has heard of AIDS.
The B/F and I are playing hooky one day, well just me really as I’m missing classes but he is unemployed. We decide to drive up to London to visit a sex shop in Soho and buy a vibrator. My memory’s a bit clouded as to where we got the idea but I am totally up for it because it feels taboo.
The first shop we go to is a big disappointment, it has a big glass front which I’d expected to be displaying mannequins in sexy underwear or kinky sex devices (strap-ons and gimp masks perhaps? Not sure how much I knew back then). It looks more like a video store from the outside and the inside – that’s a hint how many decades ago this was.
I go in with B/F, keeping my head down and my hands dug into my pockets. I don’t look at anybody but feel everyone is staring at me. Has a neon sign just appeared over my head reading “Prey on this girl, she is UP for it!” Ridiculous I know, but I bet many of you can relate this toyour own first purchase of: condoms / girly mags / sex toy. Anyway, my fella is as intimidated as me so we leave the shop without looking at or purchasing anything.
Once outside the store we feel rather foolish, the adrenaline rushing around our bodies makes us feel bolder, but we also realise this will be a wasted journey if we drive home empty handed, having been too scared to buy anything. Anyway – we’re in Soho – Sex shops are everywhere, so we just keep walking until we come to another one. This one looks more how I’d expected, with displays of gaudy maribou edged negligees which would leave nothing to the imagination and shiny pvc hotpants, corsets and long boots. We’re cooking on gas! As we stride in and, despite still feeling a bit furtive, I force myself to look around at the shelves of wares and the other shoppers – who hilariously do not want to make eye contact at with me. I feel better already.
Anyone who’s watched the Harry Potter films and seen the teetering stacks of boxes in Mr Ollivander’s wand shop will have a good visual of what the aisles of this store looks like! We find our way to the vibrators – I had decided I don’t want ours to look life-like (It’s still my preference really! I’m sorry fellas if that hurts your feelings).
I also don’t want to choose something too big for me, so we go for a model about the same size as a small to average guy – a 6-7” bullet shaped vibe made of hard, cream-coloured plastic. Obviously we want a battery-operated one, batteries are easy to come by and reduces potential embarrassment – our vibe won’t be spotted while it’s on charge. (B/F’s mum is really nosey!)
As we stand at the counter waiting to pay, my confidence is pushing through the roof – I’m a liberated girl! Kind of badass!
Did any of my friends have a vibrator? I doubt it. I start to look around more. Although I was expecting it, none of the patrons in the shop are wearing grubby macs to hide their purchases under when they leave the shop. Our acquisition is put in a brown paper bag and we exit the shop, giggling and elated.
|This is Lovehoney’s Basic 5″ mini vibrator so you’ll get an idea –
mine was longer and cream in colour.
We (obviously) tried our new toy out on the way home: Parked up on the empty side of an under-used car park.
Not entirely sure what to expect, I brace myself for the vibe making me feel like a sex crazed maniac very quickly. I beg my B/F to be very cautious how he uses it on me, but of course it is nothing like that. It IS very pleasant, providing a delicious tingling buzz and l love how it feels when he runs it round my lips and the folds and dips of my pussy. It is indeed an electric shock sensation if he rests it on my clit. I couldn’t stand too much of that at a high speed, but I enjoyed it turned down to a slow buzz if he’s going to focus on that sensitive little bud!
My B/F is loving being at the business end of things! I’m pretty sure I lay in the passenger seat which was reclined right back (it was quite an old model car. The seats go nearly flat, which’s what we like about it.) B/F is crouched in the footwell watching the action unfold (heh!) We both begin to feel a bit braver, so he begins to slide it in and out of me. I love how cold it feels at first (this has not changed! Hence my current love-affair with glass dildos). Once it’s warmed to my body temperature he starts pumping it in and out deeper and faster. I feel my orgasm building, I am getting really quite breathless and wriggly, but all of a sudden my orgasm-escalator won’t climb any higher!
I’m on a plateau of excitement, which at this point I don’t really understand. My B/F realises he isn’t going to make me cum with the vibe alone, so eases down his jeans and presents his rampant cock to my pussy. He was always great like that, doing things to me got him really excited, the act was foreplay enough for him. He’d be ready for action even if I hadn’t touched him.
OMG I’m tight! – the vibrations and the level of arousal I’m at has made my pussy walls contract and it’s a great feeling when he powers in. I draw him deep into me, raising my legs as I’ve found is comfortable (I’d learned a lot since my earliest days when I thought the stance was to lie flat with legs spread). He always finds being able to push off from the footwell helps his thrusting so we have a lusty fuck. But sadly I do not cum that first time with our toy.
Later, once we’ve re-arranged our clothes, it’s decided that he should keep the vibrator in his car, in the locking glove compartment. So there it was stored (alongside the essential box of tissues!) and we learn how to use it in oh so many fun ways over the next 12 months. When B/F and I split up, I maintained custody of the vibe! Not only had I learned to love it, but I wasn’t sure I had the nuts to visit another sex shop to buy a replacement. Remember, this is pre-internet, although I could’ve bought myself a new BoB from the small ads, which you’d hope would arriving in discreet packaging.
I confess I got a frisky thrill from reading those small ads and looking at all the different toys, my mind boggling at the size of some of them while wondering at the use of others. This primed me for my introduction to Anne Summers, and those infamous parties, but that’s a story for another day!
Image courtesy of Michael Gaida on Pixabay