Amateur Vibrator
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Amateur Vibrator
Discussion Starter
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#1
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11 mo ago
Several years ago (maybe before kids) I bought a small vibrator to use on my wife during sex. She said it didn't seem to do much for her, so we put in her nightstand and left it.
We've been married 23 years. Early in our marriage, sex was 2-3 times a week. Our sexual frequency dropped to once a week after kid #1, same after kid #2. Over the last few years, we've gotten to about once a month. This is not by my choice.
A couple of weeks ago, I thought about the vibrator and maybe getting new batteries and trying it again. When I went to check on what type of battery, I noticed there seemed to be new batteries. Vibration was stronger than what I remembered. I saw the old batteries still laying in the drawer.
I've figured out she's using it about once a week the last couple of weeks.
I'm frustrated because I've nearly given up asking her to have sex and just let it happen whenever and be content. I'm confused why she would do this when she knows I'm willing at any time.
Sex discussions have been difficult in the past. I've tried talking to her about our frequency before and she just won't sat much. I've tried to ask if I've done something to turn her away or need to do something different and she'll answer with "no" or "I don't know." Most of the time, if I ask to have sex she says no. She'll say she's not in the mood or too tired.
Should I tell her I know she's using the vibrator and ask questions? I always thought the idea of her masturbating is arousing, but, since I found this out I've been confused and hurt.
No Longer Lonely Husband
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Premium Member
Absolutely ask here what’s up! Ask her if you can use it on her. Take charge.
“If you are going through hell keep on going”-Winston Churchhill
“When life closes a door....breach the wall and come in like a marine.”
The vibrator has nothing to do with you. It’s just an easy outlet. You need to have a heart to heart with your wife about your love life in an honest open way. The vibrator is not part of that discussion.
Paging @dadstartingover this guy needs your book.
Discussion Starter
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#5
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11 mo ago
The vibrator has nothing to do with you. It’s just an easy outlet. You need to have a heart to heart with your wife about your love life in an honest open way. The vibrator is not part of that discussion.
well, if she is using the vibrator instead of your penis, what does it tell you?
Discussion Starter
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#7
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11 mo ago
The vibrator has nothing to do with you. It’s just an easy outlet. You need to have a heart to heart with your wife about your love life in an honest open way. The vibrator is not part of that discussion.
I could give up chocolate but I'm not a quitter.
I have tried in the past. How do you do that when the other person won't open up? I just end up feeling like an interrogator.
I have tried in the past. How do you do that when the other person won't open up? I just end up feeling like an interrogator.
"Ante Christum Me Prosterno Sed Ante Nihil Aliud Incurvabo"
How is the vibrator not part of the discussion? That she's using it shows she has more sex drive than she's led me to believe.
Those Bob's, such lucky things they are.
To be so near and dear.
To be one with Dear.
.................................................................
A possibility might be...
She knows of your concern, and she is prepping herself, trying to get back her groove.
By reinvigorating her long dormant, her dry groove.
One would hope.
I would not mention the vibrator.
I would ask to go down on her.
For old-times sake, for spits and giggles.
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I could give up chocolate but I'm not a quitter.
How is the vibrator not part of the discussion? That she's using it shows she has more sex drive than she's led me to believe.
She is already operating in this mode. She knows she's satisfying her urges with Bob and now he knows it. Put it on the table and talk about it. Maybe, it's just quicker or more stimulating or he sucks in bed. Whatever. Don't make the vibrator the elephant in the room - that honor belongs to the fact that she doesn't want more frequent sex with husband.
Dude, she’s always had a sex drive, just not for YOU. That’s what you need to focus on.
If this helps, W and I use toys, different vibrators time to time, very regularly because I like to use them on her and she likes it.
We have sex min 4 times a week, more mostly, and if she wants to use them without me ever if I'm working late here and there I have never had a problem with that. In fact the more the merrier because we have always communicated easily re sexual activity and everything together has created a very frequent and high quality of sex for us. We even go to adult stores together time to time.
Just saying, this can be a positive.
I'd get her a newer toy, one 5 or so years old may not have all the new features current models have.
Good luck!
"Ante Christum Me Prosterno Sed Ante Nihil Aliud Incurvabo"
Sorry OP but I have to ask. Have you been here before asking about this issue?
If not, there are older threads about this that might be helpful to you to peruse as well.
Let’s hold off on that for a guy who hasn’t said anything about his wife having the hots somewhere else. Maybe she is just a bored and tired house mom and nothing more.
This guy might have an actual chance
"Ante Christum Me Prosterno Sed Ante Nihil Aliud Incurvabo"
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“Do you want me to buy you a vibrator?” Mom asks, holding up the Good Vibrations catalogue. The year is 1999. I am twelve. I know what a vibrator is from watching Slums of Beverly Hills —my favorite scene involves Marisa Tomei and Natasha Lyonne tossing the buzzing sex toy back and forth while gyrating to Parliament’s Give Up the Funk . “Sure!” I exclaim. We sit at the kitchen table and peruse the catalogue together, pens ready to mark which toys look most promising. Mom suggests one that’s thick and short, clear and curved and designed to “stimulate the G-spot.” I don’t know what the G-spot is nor how this device is meant to stimulate it, but Mom thinks it’s a solid, simple choice for my first vibrator, and she knows more about this stuff than I do. I’m not sure why Mom thinks I need a vibrator at age twelve, but I don’t question it. At the time, I don’t appreciate the progressiveness of the fact that she is buying her pre-teen daughter a sex toy. I take for granted how she is making my first lesson about sex about my own pleasure, prioritizing my needs over anyone else’s. I also don’t understand how the act of buying her young daughter a vibrator is intrinsically linked to my mother’s feminism. Feminism isn’t really on my radar.
As a teenager, the concept of feminism begins to embarrass me. It’s the early aughts, and "the F word" isn’t trending yet. To be called a feminist is tantamount to being called a bitch—roughly translated, it means you are an ugly female without a sense of humor, who hates men. Although my mother clearly identifies as a feminist, and though she definitely has a sense of humor and loves my dad, something intense and angry happens to her face whenever she speaks of feminist things. I decide this is uncool, and not something I want to emulate. Whenever some mean kid insultingly calls me a feminist, I feel my face flush as if I’ve been caught wetting the bed (something else I did for years beyond what was socially acceptable). Looking back, it seems I knew all along I really was a feminist, and hid behind this “cool girl” identity for fear of being found out. It wasn’t until post-college, when feminism started coming back into the public conversation, that I could finally embrace the angry feminist I’d always been in my heart. My mother’s daughter. Middle school graduation with Mom Two years before Mom buys me a vibrator, I’m ten and on vacation with my parents in Hawaii, staying at this amazing hotel with a bar in the swimming pool. One hot and beautiful day, I’m hanging out on the edge of the pool, getting ready to order my third Shirley Temple with extra cherries, unintentionally positioned with a jet shooting between my legs, when I’m suddenly overcome with the most incredible sensation my body has ever known. I have no idea what this means, but I can’t wait to tell Mom all about it. I scramble out of the pool. “Mom! I just found the most amazing thing!” She smiles knowingly. “The jets?” “Yes! How did you--?” “I know.” She looks nonplussed. I want to shout, why didn’t anyone tell me?! How have I lived my entire life up to this point completely ignorant of the magic of swimming pool jets? It’s not until years later that I realize this is probably not the kind of thing most girls would immediately run to tell their mothers. But this was, and always has been, our relationship. I tell her everything and she, in turn, tells me everything.
Enjoying the jets Mom tells me about when she recklessly slutted around New York City in the '70s, before AIDS came along and scared the crap out of everyone. She tells me how one Valentine’s Day, she shaved her pubic hair into a heart shape and bleached one half platinum and dyed the other half black, a gift for her current boyfriend. She tells me about the time she met a strange man in a bar and went back to his apartment where they played chess and then he told her to take off all her clothes and tried to rape her, so she ran outside stark naked to get the police. At age six, when I ask what this rounded piece of flesh-colored latex is doing on the edge of the bathtub, Mom tells me it’s her diaphragm and it’s to keep her from getting pregnant when she and Dad have sex. As a teenager, I ask Mom why a man would go down on a woman. Her face lights up as though she’s about to impart some deep feminine wisdom. “Because women are delicious,” she says plainly. I don’t realize how, by openly acknowledging her own sexuality, Mom is implicitly teaching me another lesson, this time about shamelessness. Never once do I hear the words, “That’s not appropriate to talk about.” My childhood curiosity is encouraged. Nothing is off limits. When my vibrator arrives in the mail, I just stare at it. It’s short and fat and I’m thinking, there’s no way that thing is fitting inside my twelve-year-old vagina . I haven’t even successfully put in a tampon at this point. The day it arrives, I can’t wait to get to school. At recess, I sit on the bleachers with a bunch of my peers and hold forth about my new sex toy. In a more conservative setting, I may have been teased, even shamed; in this hippie NorCal beach town, the kids are jealous and awe-struck and I can feel them looking at me with a newfound sense of admiration.
That night, I lie down and stare up at the No Doubt poster hanging over my twin bed. I move the vibrating head down towards my general area, not really aiming. Who even knows where anything is at this point? I don’t try to put it actually inside my vagina—the thing is literally huge—I just sort of hold it between my legs. It doesn’t blow my mind, but it’s pretty good. Maybe not the fireworks display I was expecting, but it feels reminiscent of the swimming pool jets. I mean, the jets gave me my first moment of clitoral awareness, so naturally made quite an impression. I can’t actually make myself come with my vibrator, but it’s not for want of trying. In a time before infinitely available Internet porn, finding sexy stuff to masturbate to is a more creative endeavor. My porn is: the scene in Boogie Nights when they’re shooting a sex scene and Julianne Moore tells Mark Wahlberg, “Come inside me, I’m fixed”; the scene in Fear when Wahlberg fingers Reese Witherspoon on the rollercoaster with Wild Horses playing in the background; the scene in Cruel Intentions when Sarah Michelle Gellar sits on Ryan Phillippe’s lap and gives him a hand job. Then there’s the weirder stuff: the scene in John Waters’ Pink Flamingos when Divine, the 300 pound drag queen, blows her son while they’re burgling a house; the scene in John Waters’ Female Trouble when Divine is raped by a trucker on a bare mattress on the side of the road.
These scenes I keep cued up on VHS tapes that I record at my grandparents’ house when I visit them in New Jersey for three months every summer. I load up the tapes with as much erotica as possible, my jerk-off material for the remaining nine months of the year—my parents don’t have cable television. These particular scenes are well worn. I furiously rewind them over and over again as I lie on my twin bed with the vibrating head balanced against my crotch. I don’t realize at the time that Mom buying me a vibrator will become a foundational story of my childhood, something I tell people when I really want them to understand who I am. Perhaps it’s because I was encouraged to overshare as a child, but I’m proud of the fact that Mom bought me a vibrator when I was twelve. Especially now that I’m out of the hippie liberal bubble of the town where I grew up, I see that the way my mother raised me was in powerful denial of the sex-negative, Puritan-founded culture we still live in.
Angry feminist/My mother's daughter I had that vibrator for twelve years. It finally died in 2011—by that time, the clear plastic was discolored and the technology seriously outdated. My boyfriend bought me a pearl rabbit, by all accounts a far superior piece of equipment. But I do have fond memories of my first vibrator, because it was old school and Mom picked it out for me, and it taught me at a very young age to have no shame about my sexuality; that it’s normal to be horny as fuck when you’re twelve. Published June 2, 2016
Ava Bogle is a feminist sex blogger at Diary of a Slutty Feminist . Follow her on Twitter @slutty_feminist .
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Hi, i'm a [...] female virgin, i masturbate regularly (at least once a day) and am generally really comfortable with my sexuality and talking about sex but I'm currently feeling a bit stuck! I'd really like a vibrator from Ann Summers(a sex store), i've done plenty of research into different products that are safe and simple and would be suited to my needs and wants, I've found one that i feel would heighten my pleasure, and i feel like i'm ready, competent and comfortable to use a vibrator, but i'm not sure how i'd be able to get one! I feel uncomfortable talking to my parents about it, my dad is under the impression that i'm still a young girl and oblivious to the world of sex, and my mum is quite conservative and would certainly not react well if i asked for a vibrator! I've been trying to wok out how i could buy one using the internet but i don't have my own credit/debit card and my parents would find out if i used their cards or paypal accounts. I think I would be allowed into an Ann Summers store as i am very tall and mature looking, but i know it's risky as well as dishonest, and my nearest Ann Summers store is a train and bus journey away anyway! I do feel like i understand all the facts about safety and hygiene, and I am mature and wouldn't snigger or be confused at the sight of a sex toy like I know many young people my age would (including many of my own friends and classmates). I've a lot of thought and consideration into what I want and need, but I don't know what to do at this stage. I don't want to have to wait another four years to be able to get something I've been pining after for several months already! What do you think I should do? Please help! Izzy
Last edited by Jacob on Thu Sep 23, 2021 7:51 am, edited 1 time in total.
Reason: removed age for SEO reasons
Hi Izzy,
Unfortunately, I'm not sure there is a great way for you to get this particular vibrator for yourself. As you said, without credit cards of your own there's really no way to do business online. The only solution I could think of here is if you had a prepaid credit card; sometimes people will get those as gifts and can use them like any other credit card. I suppose if there's anyone in your life who tends to give you gift certificates as presents you could mention this, but it's a little awkward and, in most situations, rude to dictate what sort of gift someone gives you!
In terms of going to the store yourself, I know that most stores of this nature are very meticulous about checking the ids of customers who come in, so despite how old you look you will probably not be able to do this in person.
There are some drug stores & big box stores that sell vibrators (often labeled as "personal massagers") and although the selection at places like these will be much smaller, that may be your best option at this point.
Hi, thank you very much for such a quick reply, as you said it might be a bit rude to ask for a prepaid credit card, but i'll look into what you said about pharmacies, that sounds like a good idea!
I totally get where you are coming from. I was in a similar situation a few years ago, but I had my own credit card, so I was able to purchase one.
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