My Sister Likes My Penis

My Sister Likes My Penis

optional screen reader

Parenting

Entertainment

Food & Recipes

Health

Living

Shopping

Plus Icon

Click to expand the Mega Menu

Menu

optional screen reader

Parenting

Entertainment

Food & Recipes

Health

Living

Shopping

optional screen reader

Health & Wellness

Love & Sex

Womanizer Premium

$159.20

Buy now

Sign Up

optional screen reader

Tags

retail

sex toys

Shop

vibrators

More Stories from Health & Wellness

optional screen reader

Legal

Privacy Policy

Terms of Use

AdChoices

Privacy Preferences

optional screen reader

SheKnows Family:

She Media

StyleCaster

Soaps

BlogHer

optional screen reader

Our Sites

Artnews

BGR

Billboard

Deadline

Fairchild Media

Footwear News

Gold Derby

IndieWire

Robb Report

Rolling Stone

SheKnows

She Media

Soaps

Sourcing Journal

Sportico

Spy

StyleCaster

The Hollywood Reporter

TVLine

Variety

Vibe

WWD

Food & Recipes

Expand the sub menu

Special Series

Expand the sub menu

optional screen reader

Contact Us

Advertise

AdChoices

Accessibility

Careers

Privacy Policy

EU Privacy Preferences

Terms of Use

Icon Link

Plus Icon

SheKnows is a part of Penske Media Corporation. © 2022 SheMedia, LLC. All Rights Reserved.

If you purchase an independently reviewed product or service through a link on our website, SheKnows may receive an affiliate commission.

When I opened the pretty pink box with the word “Womanizer” on the side, I was like, “Aw, what a cute vibrator! ” I mean, it was pink and had roses on it and even a big Swarovski crystal. It was about the size of a computer mouse, and it seemed so lovely, innocent even.
I did a quick skim of the directions: nothing complicated. Just put the little end thing on your clitoris and play with the settings. I lay down to give the Womanizer a try
… and, when I finished, I almost passed out. I thought about shouting downstairs to my husband, “Call the police! This thing should be illegal!” Instead, I t exted all of my girlfriends and told them I’d found the end-all, be-all of female sex toys .
I got on the phone with Womanizer spokesperson Morgan Rossi, and I think she understood most of what I was saying, in between my hysterical vibrator worship. Apparently, the Womanizer was invented in Germany by Michael Lenke, tinkerer and generally brilliant dude. Always the inventor, he never really delved into the sex market until wrapping his head around a “pleasure air” idea, without really knowing what application it would have. He and his wife figured it out after, I assume, much hands-on experimentation. (Lucky wife.)
So what’s the deal? How does a contraption that looks like a computer mouse leave me screaming and half-conscious? Here’s your tech lesson of the day…
“There are lots of clitoral stimulators out there,” Rossi said, “but there’s the problem of numbing, desensitization and over-stimulation. A huge amount of vagina-owners can’t use that direct stimulation. It’s just too much. With the Womanizer’s pleasure air technology, it’s so gentle, so effective and ultimately, it’s kind of touchless. Air flow and air pressure are doing all the stimulation.”
She continued, “If you were to crack open our product, you would see all these little chambers. What they’re doing is pulling in air and blowing air out simultaneously. That’s what you’re feeling, almost a pulling sensation. It’s not actually coming into contact with the clitoris or rubbing it. It’s the air flow that creates the sensation.”
See? When I was joking with my girlfriends about the Womanizer being a clit vacuum , I wasn’t completely joking. Let’s face it: Many people with vaginas can’t get off without clitoral stimulation. Sex feels good, but intercourse isn’t always great. The Womanizer bypasses this problem by focusing solely on the clitoris , and the effects are astounding.
Rossi said, “I’ve heard of many women writing to us, letting us know that for some of them, it’s the first time they’ve had an orgasm. They’ve never found a product or partner who can deliver quite like this.”
That said, Rossi was clear: The people at epi24 are not trying to make men obsolete in the bedroom. The Womanizer can easily be used with a partner, as well. She said, “Just because a woman could achieve an orgasm in less than sixty seconds with the Womanizer doesn’t mean you have to.”
(Pause in awe of a product that’ll make you orgasm in 60 seconds and leave your whole body twitching.)
“You can use this product on the clitoris to warm up,” Rossi said. “It doesn’t have to be on the clit. You can use it on nipples, too. By no means is it limited to ‘gotta get to work, get in, get out, quick orgasm.’ It can certainly be integrated into couple’s play,” as evidenced by some very helpful sexual position suggestions on the Womanizer website.
So are we calling this a miracle product? No. OK, maybe. I mean, listen to this testimonial, one of Rossi’s favorites about the Womanizer: “A woman who had gone through chemotherapy got in touch. She said through all of her treatments, her libido was down. She didn’t feel like having sex. She’d tried other products really to no effect. Nothing was working. She came upon the Womanizer, and she felt the need to contact us because she hadn’t had that pleasure in six years, and it brought her to tears.”
The look of the product is actually one of spokesperson Rossi’s favorite things. She said, “I have to hand it to the designers. It’s so innocuous. It’s very approachable. Aside from the amazing technology and effectiveness of the product, I do love the design.”
This can be important for women especially when, say, traveling through airline security, but also for people who’ve never owned a vibrator before . Thankfully, we’ve moved past the huge penis shapes of old. As Rossi pointed out, “ Vibrators have been changing over the years: less and less of those phallic vibrators and more things that are aesthetically pleasing. The Womanizer is not intended to be an affront in any way. It’s something you can feel comfortable owning and not embarrassed about.”
For me, sex toys are never embarrassing , so I don’t have such a high interest in aesthetics — I want a vibrator that’s going to get the job done.
But for people who want a very pretty toy that also meets my criteria, I can’t tell you enough that the Womanizer gets the job done .
A version of this story was published June 2016.
The stories you care about, delivered daily.
SheKnows is a part of Penske Media Corporation. © 2022 SheMedia, LLC. All Rights Reserved.

Sunday, Jul 10th 2022
12AM
17°C
3AM
16°C

5-Day Forecast

Embed icon

Embed Most Watched Videos

By embedding this you agree to our terms and conditions

Cancel
Copy code
Tick icon

Code copied

Site
Web

Enter search term:
Search

Home

News

U.S.

Sport

TV&Showbiz

Australia

Femail

Health

Science

Money

Video

Travel

Best Buys

Discounts

by PAUL HARRIS and CHRISTIAN GYSIN, Daily Mail
Sarah Payne is a name few parents will ever forget. The summer holidays had barely started when she was snatched from a cornfield and bundled into the back of a van, another victim to add to Britain's bleak catalogue of abducted children.
But there was something about the disappearance of this bright-eyed eight-year- old that dominated the thoughts of parents across the land.
She had been kidnapped in daylight just a short distance from her grandparents' home.
For weeks afterwards, her little face beamed out almost everywhere from ' missing' posters or newspaper appeals.
Practically every day, you could catch her increasingly desperate parents on a TV screen somewhere, pleading for help, refusing to give up hope.
So when hope died, and Sarah's naked body was found in a dismal roadside grave, there could hardly have been a mother or father anywhere who didn't imagine that it could so easily have been their own child.
The perverted irony of this case is that as far as Sarah's killer was concerned, it might just as well have been.
Any little girl would have done for Roy Whiting, on any day.
Had the tragedy of chance not thrown them together that summer's evening two years ago, then some other parents, somewhere else, would almost certainly have been in mourning.
He did not stalk Sarah Payne. He had never met her before and had no connection with her school or family.
But Roy Whiting was ever ready to take an opportunity.
We now know he had kidnapped and indecently assaulted a young schoolgirl before. He couldn't get the thought of children out of his sick mind.
He had already prepared the back of his white van like a sealed prison cell, with all the necessary equipment for abducting and assaulting a little girl, right down to the rope, the nylon-tie handcuffs and the Johnson's baby-oil.
He spent the day cruising three parks, a funfair and a boating lake. He didn't have long to wait.
Some time around 7.50pm on July 1 last year, Sarah Payne was making her way out of the cornfield at Kingston Gorse, West Sussex, after playing with her sister and brothers at a rope-swing play area popular with local children.
In a disastrous coincidence, it appears she simply stumbled into Whiting's path. He suddenly-found himself presented with an eight-year- old girl in her favourite blue dress and little black shoes.
Yet the chances of the two coinciding would have been massively reduced, or even eliminated, had Whiting's twisted predilection for young girls not been left to develop by those who might have done something about it.
For it transpires that Whiting had been convicted five years earlier of abducting a nine-year-old schoolgirl and subjecting her to a disgusting attack.
It does not take much imagination to identify a pattern in his actions.
Once again, it was a sunny Saturday and she was playing in the street. He snatched her, dragged her into his car and took her on a terrifying drive to a secluded spot in West Sussex.
There, he told her he had a knife and a rope then ordered her to strip naked.
He assaulted her and tried to force her to commit indecent acts.
It was 90 minutes before he allowed her out of the car.
When he later appeared in court, however, a psychiatrist told the judge in a medical report that Whiting was 'not a paedophile'.
Furthermore, Whiting volunteered to undergo treatment for his perversions in prison.
His pathetic explanation for the offences - to which he pleaded guilty - was that something 'just snapped'.
First, it allowed Judge John Gower to sentence him to only four years in prison (the maximum sentence for indecent assault is ten years, and the jail term for kidnap is normally between five years and life).
Second, going to prison only as an unclassified sex-offender meant he never received any of the attention the authorities afford paedophiles, both to help them and to protect potential victims.
Nor was he segregated with other child-sex offenders, incidentally --he avoided retribution from fellow inmates by claiming he had been jailed for a car-ringing scam.
Although he had assured the court he would undergo voluntary treatment for his perversions, he never did.
Neither did he take up the option of treatment under licence once freed.
Crucially, no one bothered to check. There wasn't even any mechanism in place to do so.
The first time anyone identified his perversion was when a probation officer opposed his parole application because he had not admitted culpability for what he had done.
She believed Whiting was 'a predatory paedophile' who would re- offend and possibly kill next time.
Parole was refused then - but Whiting was nevertheless released in November 1997 after serving just over half his sentence.
It was only then that he came under any kind of structured scrutiny.
The national register of sexoffenders had come into operation while Whiting was in prison and he signed it after he was freed.
Inspector Paul Williams, an intelligence officer with a brief to monitor sexoffendersin the Sussex area, visitedhim at home.
The fact that he was on this list, and because of what Williams knew about him, was the reason he would so quickly become a suspect for the Sarah Payne murder.
Mr Williams said that when he heard about Sarah's disappearance, he put Whiting 'at the top of my list'.
Yet at Christmas 1997 Whiting was essentially on the loose again. It would have been impossible --and unnecessary at that stage - for police to keep a constant watch on him.
After all, he did not shape his life in the classic style of paedophilia. Perhaps he was too clever for that.
He even showed some signs of reform - getting rid of a stash of pornographic magazines and videos from his home, for example.
He categorically told police when questioned about children: 'I keep away from all that now. I've learned my lesson.'
Yet there would later be signals that flagged up his continuing sexual interests.
In Littlehampton, some time after the first police visit, he moved to a flat overlooking the beach and a children's playground.
Even his work would not get in the way of his hobby. In the past, he had organised his schedule as a mechanic at a local garage so he could take cars on road tests at the exact time girls were walking home from school.
Now he would make time to go out 'window-shopping' in his car, cruising parks and playgrounds.
Three years later, when Sarah Payne became his victim, he was also much wiser.
The only reason he was caught last time was because police were given a good description of the abductor and his car. This time there would be no witnesses.
So were the danger signs there when he was convicted in 1995?
The mother of his first victim is in no doubt. The dark-haired housewife, who cannot be named without identifying her daughter, told the Daily Mail: 'It staggers and angers me that he was not classed as a paedophile.
'I would like to stand in front of the judge and those who defended Whiting then, and ask them how they feel now. I am sure Sarah Payne's parents feel the same.'
Quite what turned Whiting from an unremarkable teenager into a monster who preyed on children seems to have escaped the 'experts'. But with hindsight, there were ominous foundations.
was born in Horsham, West Sussex, on January 26, 1959. He grew up in Crawley, one of the 'new towns' created to relieve pressure on London, from where his parents had moved.
It was a pleasant modern suburb, but Whiting's upbringing was hardly idyllic.
He was abused as a child by a close relative. As long ago as 1965, when Roy was six, his father George, a sheet metal worker, was cautioned after an indecent act with a girl at the local swimming baths.
George and his wife Pamela had two other children, a boy, three years older than Roy, and a girl, six years younger.
Roy would later tell people his mother had a nervous breakdown when he was a child. Pamela left in 1976 - on her daughter's 11th birthday - leaving the three children with their father.
Roy Whiting had not enjoyed school. He was slow at reading and never showed any flair in his other work. Even at this age, his class-
mates described him as solitary and aloof.
The one passion he had was cars. So at 16, with few other options, he got a job as a mechanic. He drifted between several garages before settling at Kirkham Motors in Crawley, where he worked as an MoT tester.
Even there, in the company of other mechanics, he failed to fit in. The lone figure in the corner, listening to his favourite heavy metal music on a cassette player while he worked, was Roy Whiting.
In the evenings he would spend his time doing up old cars at home. The most respectablesounding entry on his otherwise uninspiring CV would have been a spell at Lancing College, a leading independent school whose alumni include Evelyn Waugh and Sir Tim Rice.
But Whiting was never a pupil - all he did there was an out-of-hours paint-spraying course when he was 18.
From the mid-1970s until 1991 Whiting was a casual worker at the Cherry Lane adventure park in Langley Green, Crawley.
He would turn up and help children fix their bicycles. He was also a member of the Crawley Tigers cycle racing team which competed at the children's play area. He continued to lead a mostly friendless existence, living partly with his father in return for doing jobs around the house. According to George, his other son regarded Roy as the black sheep of the family and did not speak to him.
His sister never got on with Roy and described him to a friend as 'a dreamer'. He bullied and tormented her for years.
George remembers the father-son relationship at that time as being 'a very good one', although it went through difficult periods.
They had a row one day and Roy moved out. He set up a 'home' in the rented workshop at Bonnets Lane Farm, Crawley, where he had a job repairing cars. There was a camp bed, a kettle, a microwave oven and a TV, plus some posters of racing cars on the wall.
Were anyone looking for a snapshot to sum up Whiting's miserable life, it could be found here behind the doors of his grubby little den.
Whiting
Tammy Sytch Porn
Hentailx
Allison Star

My Sister Likes My Penis

Report Page