I made a post a while back about not being a fan of the super-popular Womanizer. Before that, I also posted about my life-altering love of the Hitachi Magic Wand, even though I’d spent my first few years of Hitachi ownership being baffled why anyone would like this bulky beast of a vibrator.

See where I’m going with this?

Yeah.

For the same reason that I couldn’t mentally let go of the Magic Wand—i.e., I hate feeling left out of a phenomenon and, tragically for my mental health, tend to equate that FOMO with failure—I couldn’t let the Womanizer [1] go.

I couldn’t let it go so much that I never even stored it. It remained on my nightstand, like I was subconsciously inviting it to watch from the closet as I found the friction in my jeans elsewhere [2]. Occasionally I even plugged it in, ensuring it remained fully charged, and even more occasionally I brought it out at the beginning of a jerk-off session, giving it another shot before switching it out for another vibrator.

Then the pandemic hit and I lost all interest in sex or masturbation. I think I went more than a month without coming—which, if true, would be a record for me—but I can’t say for sure because I was paying so little attention. There was something new to infuriate and devastate me every day; I had plenty else on my mind.

When the desire to jerk off finally came back, I decided to take advantage of the unplanned hiatus.

If I’m not careful, my body will become trained to come a particular way, and a combination of time and abstinence is the best way to reset it. I’d had time and abstinence to unlearn my habits, so I gave the Womanizer another shot.

And gave it a hell of a shot too. I pulled out all the stops. Days of turning myself on but not touching myself. Rereading the stories in my library that got me the wettest. Rewatching the porn videos that made my clit ache the sweetest. One night when I had the apartment to myself, I plugged in my Womanizer, reread and rewatched until the flashing-red charging indicator had changed to a solid green, and then I got started.

Here’s what I learned:

1. I have to be patient when I use the Womanizer. For me, this is the hardest part. I’m not a patient masturbator. A twenty-minute jerk-off session is my making myself come as quickly and as many times as I can fit in twenty minutes. Relaxing and letting the sensations build does not come naturally. (A facet of my personality I’m actively trying to change, but that’s a story for another day.)
2. I have to already be wet before I turn it on.
3. I have to have already played with my clit and gotten it to full sensitivity before I turn it on.
4. I have to be penetrating myself—with a focus on thickness, not length—before I turn it on.
5. I have to start with heavy vibrations and gradually go lighter, taking breaks every time the sensations veers toward too much or too little.
6. I have to edge myself. I don’t understand why, but if I let myself come the first time I feel the urge creeping up on me, the orgasm is abysmal. Literally the biggest letdown you can imagine, to the point that I would sometimes lie there afterward, wondering if I’d really come or not because the peak had been so pathetic. I’ve masturbated with the Womanizer enough now that I know what it feels like when the edging can be over and I can let myself orgasm. It’s difficult to describe, except to say that in the moment I’ve caught myself marveling how it suddenly feels like I’m fucking the little suction area with my clit.
7. When I do finally come, I have to let it happen, not try to rush toward it. Another test of my limited patience. The moment I start trying to come is the moment I doom myself to a lackluster orgasm.

If I do all of those things? I can guarantee myself a thigh-shaking, toe-curling, fireworks-behind-the eyelids-inducing orgasm.

And the feature I like best about my Womanizer—if I hit the on/off button when it’s vibrating, the vibrations don’t stop. Instead, they drop to the lowest setting. If I hit that button right after I peak, then the low, gentle vibrations usher me into a comedown and afterglow so blissful it’s better than the orgasm itself. There’s such a release of tension and a strange gushing sensation near my cunt that at first I thought I was squirting for the first time [3].

So I want to say, from the bottom of my heart: Womanizer, I am so, so sorry I doubted and despaired of you for so long. My Magic Wand continues to be the crowning glory of my collection of vibrators, but you have secured a position at its right hand [4].

I don’t care that I had to experiment so much to learn how to use you, or that you caused me so much frustration. Since then, you have given me orgasms so strong that I’ve dropped immediately off to sleep afterward and woken up with legs like Jell-O.

You are beautiful and powerful and one-of-a-kind. I will cherish you for the rest of your hopefully very, very long life. I only hope you can find it in your rumbling electrical heart to forgive me.

1. Mine is the Womanizer W500 Pro. Apparently it is an outdated model now, since I couldn’t find it available on any site aside from Amazon and eBay. [return]

2. Coincidentally, the Womanizer is both a notch in my bedpost and a line in a blog. [return]

3. I was not. The sensation is definitely centered on the entrance to my vagina, not my urethra, and it leaves no wet spot or noticeable change in how much of a mess I’ve made when I’m finished. It’s just a feeling. A wonderful, wonderful feeling. [return]

4. And you have been replaced in your former position at the bottom of my collection by the Eroscillator, which was an epically crushing disappointment after all the years I spent pining after it. Although in a year or so, I’ll probably be apologizing to it just like I’m now apologizing to you. Ugh. [return]