My first, not last, not the best
My first written story? In the diary, decades ago. My first blog? Those Creamy Peaches is my first. My first erotic toy? Vibrator, black, hard vibrator.
At the end of elementary school, I began window-shopping. Not at clothing stores but erotic shops. It was that time when most of the boys were saving their hard-earned pocket money to buy the last issue of Playboy, which they then proudly displayed and talked about pictures of naked girls, clipping and gluing them to their notebooks. On the other hand, conversations about sex among girls were considered shameful. Therefore, alone, far away from the eyes of my friends, on the weekends when my mother and I went shopping, I started gazing into a brand new world of whips, underwear, and other erotic accessories.
Sometimes I could hardly wait to get out of school and be able to sit at my computer in peace and browse through the pages of the then-existing online stores. I wanted to buy something new, something that would replace my fingers. Counting my pocket money, I realized that I couldn't afford a toy. Also, I did not want to risk delivering the product home. Can you imagine the expression on your parents' faces if they are the ones opening the package? The worst nightmare of every teenager.
Finding no other way, I started harassing my male friends, the only ones who were shamelessly talking about sex at the time, about how I wanted a vibrator for my birthday. Every year I kept repeating my wish and trying to hide my anticipation. I was also a bit nervous because I did not want an imitation of a real cock with sharply pointed and well-visible veins. It would better serve to med students in anatomy classes than to my alone time. I wanted a simple vibrator, and I got it after a few years of waiting. I finally got it for my seventeenth birthday. As I opened the present, I felt the blush of my face and a tingling feeling between my legs. It had to be due to indescribable anticipation of new adventures.
My first vibrator was quite simple, short, stiff as a stone, non-anatomically shaped, surrounded by glitter at the root.
For the first time in my life, I eagerly awaited the end of the Christmas holidays so I could return to the safe shelter of my sheets and try out a new device. The period of continuous repetition of circular motions with my fingers has finally ended. And not to be misunderstood, I still love fingering, but if I have the chance, I prefer some extra toys under my sheets.
Another week and I was finally home alone for a while. I locked the apartment door and headed into my bedroom. When I took the vibrator out of the packaging, it became clear to me that my morning session was not well-planned. Of course, like many times before, I forgot to buy batteries. My frustration grew, even more when I opened the box of spare batteries. Empty. Because I'm damn stubborn, I was desperately looking for the solution. I remembered all the possible remote controllers lying around the apartment. Jackpot! I took the batteries out and returned to my bedroom triumphantly.
I liked everything on my first erotic toy, even the tiny sequins, though they are not exactly my style. The vibrations were pure, no specific program, from the weakest, barely perceptible, better described as "warming up mode" to the more powerful ones supposed to provide the best orgasm in the world. I started massaging the clitoris with it. Wow. When I got familiar with my first vibrator, I started playing with the vibration intensity and courageously putting it where it belongs - inside my 'peach.' And then, as if to shut me down. I felt nothing, not even the most energetic vibration.
Nevertheless, I did not immediately give up on it, and I used it for many years afterward. Rarely did I even push it into my 'peach'. This sex toy replaced fingers on my clitoris, and I experienced a whole range of orgasms, from the weakest to the strongest.
Although it has served me well all these years, the time of goodbye has come. New, much friendlier toys replaced it, and the brutal black vibrator ended up forever somewhere in the bottom of my closet.
And, which one was your first?