While looking through SexIs, the online magazine of EdenFantasys, we noticed an article written by our friend and fellow blogger AHubbyof2SexualMinds. The point of the article is that sex toys provide a relationship with variety and excitement. They are fun, as any toy should be. Thus, fear of them impedes much of what is possible sexually.
I’ve never had a problem with sex toys in theory. In fact, as someone who’s watched porn since long before he could possess it legally, I have always been intrigued by them. Though I am aware of the fact that some men disdain them, I’ve never been able to view such an object as unsafe in and of itself – unless it’s made from unsafe materials, and that’s an entirely different discussion.
There are myriad reasons why men might harbor bad feelings toward their wives’ or girlfriends’ vibrators, not the least of which is that they view them as competition or as a threat, as though the women are grooming the vibrators to somehow replace their men. Vibrators make some men feel inadequate, as if the very presence of one in their wife’s nightstand drawer is evidence that they are incapable of providing pleasure and satisfaction. If the vibrator is particularly large, this may cause doubt or other negative feelings about their own size.
It’s not inconceivable that some men are also jealous that a vibrator has such intimate knowledge of their wives. Sure, on some level it’s ridiculous to think that an inanimate object can have knowledge of anything, but I imagine that, for some, this is a real concern. A vibrator may not be a living, breathing human being, but women still have sexual relations with them, in a manner of speaking. I can see how such a thought process might inspire jealousy.
I don’t get jealous of vibrators. Never have. I don’t see vibrators rendering interpersonal relationships obsolete; my thought is that any woman who would rather have a vibrator didn’t really want me in the first place. Though there may not have been any future in the relationship, the vibrator itself wasn’t the threat.
I am more likely to feel threatened or jealous if my significant other had another man (or woman). And with some of the people that I dated when I was single, that was not only possible but probable. Another person can offer much more than a vibrator can, including financial and emotional support. Another person can cook, take out the trash and perform other chores, cuddle on the couch and watch TV, and help you raise a child. A vibrator is inequipped for all of these tasks. So I can see feeling threatened under such circumstances, but to worry about a battery-operated piece of plastic covered in silicone? This makes no sense to me.
With the exception of my first two girlfriends, the use of sex toys has always been a regular part of my routine when I’m with someone else. This is especially true of my long-term relationships, but also of more casual “friends with benefits” type situations as well. In most cases it was I, and not my girlfriend, who initially suggested using sex toys. The main attraction for me has always been in watching the other person have an orgasm; I am really turned on by women who are unafraid of their own bodies, and willing to sieze their own pleasure. I find this exciting.
I also like the security of knowing that my partner won’t be left unsatisfied. Though I’ve never had any reason to believe that I would be unable or unwilling to finish what I begin sexually, a vibrator is like a safety net. Were I to hurt my wrist, experience erectile dysfunction, or be too drunk to participate, I would take great solace in the knowledge that Jill doesn’t have to go to sleep without an orgasm.
Why, then, did I not incorporate sex toys into my relationships with my first two girlfriends? In the case of the first one, it never really came up; we were both new and inexperienced, still getting used to the fundamentals of sex without straying far from our vanilla foundation. When you’re still trying to figure out what sexual position you like best, you might not feel compelled to try out the sex swing or the violet wand; she was self-conscious enough about masturbating by hand – at least in front of me – and even if she wasn’t, I’m guessing that because she lived with somewhat repressive parents, there was no way that she was going to keep a vibrator in the house.
My second girlfriend, to some extent like my first, expected me to take the initiative; I recall asking her to masturbate for me, and her reacting as though I’d asked her to do something far less mainstream. When she asked why, I told her I wanted to watch her make herself cum. She asked me, “Aren’t you supposed to do that?” I’m guessing that she thought I’d take it as a compliment or an ego boost, that she was giving me a modicum of job security. In retrospect her willingness to rely upon me for her orgasms was a hell of a leap of faith, and ultimately a turn-off for me.
Jill and I discussed using a vibrator together pretty early on in our sexual relationship. She was open about them, trusting that I wasn’t the sort of man who would express umbrage at her taking sexual initiative, and might actually enjoy it. We went to a local adult store, and I bought her a Rabbit. She used it in the car on the drive home, and when we arrived we used it together. It was the first of many exciting experiences we’ve shared, and since then we’ve tried to incorporate a toy (or toys) as often as possible.
When she found out that I was working on this post, Jill asked me if her using a vibrator bothered me in any way. I was surprised by her question; in light of our history, there’s no way she could think, eight years later, that I might find such a thing bothersome, threatening, or anything less than wonderful. So I said, “Only when it’s blocking your pussy and I can’t lick.”
-Jack
This post was sponsored by EdenFantasys.
