A Blast from the Past: My First Dildo

My first dildo was gross. I already talked about my first vibrator, which wasn’t really all that terrible. My first dildo, on the other hand, was a gift. A pink, rotating, vibrating, poorly constructed, jelly rabbit dildo. I can still feel how sticky it got when I finally threw it out.

I lived with three other girls in a house in southern California during college. It was constantly noisy, there was long hair everywhere (we couldn’t keep a vacuum in decent shape for more than a few months) and someone was always shouting for someone to bring them tampons in the bathroom. I was– by far– the tamest one. I didn’t drink on weekdays, I went to class, I had a job, and paid my rent on time. I don’t know how I set the bar that low, but I did. And in order to “loosen me up”, one of the girls bought me this pink monstrosity for my 21st birthday.

 

Mini-Jelly-Rabbit-Vibrator-Pink
My first dildo was similar to this one from adultshopit.co.uk. Pink, jelly, and unimpressive. 

There were a few horrible things about this dildo. The battery compartment didn’t stay on. The vibrations were weak and buzzy. The rabbit ears were pointed and uncomfortable on my clit. Then… there was the material. It was that gross jelly that I wouldn’t let near my vagina now, but college-me didn’t know any better. Lilly has the ultimate guide on toxic toys, but the short and sweet of it jelly toys can be toxic because they can absorb and distribute chemicals and bacteria. Lilly wrote about it around the time I would have received this toy, and it’s definitely worth a read as a primer to the complexities of toxic toys. Many people have reported adverse reactions to jelly toys, like recurring BV, itching and burning, and other incredibly unfun symptoms. And I know this gift-giver got it from Amazon, which was a risk in an of itself.

 

But I haven’t even gotten to the biggest issue. A bigger issue than poor construction and potentially toxic materials, more of a problem than bad vibrations or a disreputable manufacturer. This dildo had a face.

A face.

Okay, I know Epiphora has a dildo she really likes that has a face. She’s into it. I would be into it too, if it had been a skull like Piph’s. (I believe it’s the Whipspider Rubberworks Ghost, but I could be wrong.) But this was no such face. It was a woman with a soft smile, as if the promise of being squeezed into my poorly-lubricated college vagina warmed the pit of her stomach with an anticipatory happiness. It was unnerving.

There is no universe in which I wanted a toxic jelly woman with a Mona Lisa smile in or around my vagina. I threw her out pretty quick.

Goodbye, jelly dildo woman. And good riddance. 

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