Can Demisexuals Enjoy Porn?

Kate Sloan
A blurry still from a porn scene I once performed in for Spit

One of the most striking changes in my sexuality as I’ve grown older is how much more demisexual I’ve gotten. I went from being a horny, flirty 23-year-old who could spot my next fuck from across a crowded swimming pool, to being a grizzled, grumpy 30-year-old who needs to have a 3-hour conversation with someone before deciding whether she wants to hold their hand. (That’s a slight exaggeration… maybe…)

I’ve seen the question of demisexuals’ porn consumption come up in a few of the online sex discussion spaces I participate in, and I think it’s an interesting one. If the primary purpose of pornography is to arouse the viewer, and the viewer is someone who is far more aroused by brains than bodies, and far more interested in intimacy than insertions, can porn really do its job? I have a few points I’d like to make in response to this question.

Quick refresher before we hop in: Demisexuality is an identity on the asexuality spectrum. Demisexuals find it difficult or impossible to experience sexual attraction until and unless they’ve developed an emotional connection to, or at least an emotional familiarity with, the subject of that attraction.

 

Point 1: Sexual attraction and sexual arousal are not the same thing.

Sexual attraction, generally speaking, is the visceral pull you feel toward someone you want to kiss, touch, and/or fuck. It is aimed at particular people; if someone said to me, “Do you feel like having sex right now?” my answer would be rather different than if someone said to me, “Do you feel like having sex with James Dean circa 1955 right now?” (My answers at the moment, respectively, are “Ehh, not really, ask me again after I’ve had my coffee” and “OMG, yes, give me 10 minutes to throw on some red lipstick for him to mess up.”)

Sexual arousal, on the other hand, is the physical (and, arguably, also mental) state of being horny. It can involve noticeable changes in your physiology, like engorged genital tissue and a quickening heartbeat, as well as more psychological effects, like the pressing desire to be imminently touched by yourself and/or by someone else.

These two things are different. Certainly one can facilitate the other – and for many demisexuals, sexual attraction precedes sexual arousal and is itself preceded by emotional attraction – but fundamentally, they are separate, and don’t always occur at the same time, in the same situations.

Without trying to speak for other demisexuals on this matter, I’ll say that I can become sexually aroused by porn without feeling sexually attracted to the people in it. It certainly helps if I’m attracted to the people in it (more on that below), but just witnessing certain sexual acts can rev me up, especially if they’re acts I’m already intimately familiar with and/or acts I already fetishize to some extent. And so, yes, I can jerk off to porn, and often find that it adds measurably to my arousal and pleasure, just as it does for many allosexual people (i.e. people who are not on the asexual spectrum).

 

Point 2: Porn can become familiar.

In an age of OnlyFans feeds and live sex cams, it’s easier than ever to follow the careers of porn performers you enjoy. Whether you become a fan of theirs because you think they’re cute, because they remind you of someone you used to date, or because your favorite sex acts and kinks are fairly aligned with theirs (or all three!), you can definitely develop an “emotional connection” – albeit a one-sided, parasocial one – to certain performers over time.

This noticeably increases my enjoyment of porn, as a demisexual person. Of the porn performers whose work I follow closely, what they all have in common is that there’s a lot of personality infused into their work, so that I get a sense of who they are (or at least, who their porn persona is) on a deeper level than I would if I’d just watched them get fucked once. This creates a sense of heightened connection and therefore generates heightened sexual attraction on my end.

I’ve noticed that this effect can also occur even if I’ve just seen a particular porn clip several times. It’s like the raunchier version of how I feel more attracted to Jennifer Beals every time I re-watch one of her sex scenes from The L Word…

If you’re not sure where to even find porn performers you might develop a fondness for, I’d suggest scrolling through clip sites like ManyVids, or flipping through the pages of free adult webcams listings, and clicking on anyone whose aesthetic or vibe provokes a positive response in you. Follow that little glimmer of potential attraction and see where it leads you.

 

Point 3: You can make porn that’s familiar.

Now, granted, not everyone wants to set up a camera to film themselves while fucking. You may have concerns about this related to cybersecurity, future employment, etc. and that’s fine.

But if you are willing to make your own porn, I think this can be one of the best solutions for demisexuals who want wank fodder but don’t connect with much/any of the porn they see online. After all, what could be more demisexual than jerking off to the sight of a person you know IRL and already have a deep connection with?

I’ve made amateur porn with a few partners over the years, and it’s always served me well when incorporated into my spank bank. It reminds me of hot sex I’ve had, because it depicts… hot sex I’ve actually had! And it’s therefore a lot easier for me to get turned on by it and get off to it.

 

Fellow demisexuals, what’s your experience with porn? Does it turn you on? Bore you? Or does it depend?

 

This post contains sponsored links. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.

Whimsical Toys at Wacky Prices: Fun Factory’s Cyber Monday Deals!

Kate Sloan
All images via Fun Factory

Sometimes people say that they feel like “a kid in a candy store” the first time they enter a sex shop, and I’ve never felt that more strongly than I do about Fun Factory toys.

I mean, look at them. They’re colorful, playful and evocative. They’re the very essence of whimsy, in shapes you can fuck yourself with. They’re what would happen if Willy Wonka designed a line of sex products. (Insert “everlasting cocksucker” joke here.)

It may seem extraneous to comment on a toy’s appearance, when (as I’ve said myself in many of my toy reviews) the way it feels is ultimately way more important. But that’s the best part about Fun Factory: their toys look cute and feel fantastic. This combination is alarmingly hard to find in the sex toy biz. And because the Fun Factory aesthetic is so friendly, bright and (yep) fun, I think these toys are especially wonderful picks for people who are often put off by the way sex toys look, whether because they’re grossed out by veiny dildos, intimidated by heavy-handed Fifty Shades-inspired products, or gender-dysphoric about pastel pinks and purples. Fun Factory has the guts to make strange-looking toys galore in shades of lime green, atomic orange, lemon yellow, and many more.

I’m writing this post because the company wanted me to tell you about their Black Friday/Cyber Monday deals, which are just stellar this year. Here are the deets:

  • Toys on Fun Factory’s website are up to 60% off right now. Check below for my recommendations, but trust me, these are great deals regardless of what you decide to get. ✨
  • You’ll get a free mini vibrator with any purchase of $120 or more. So you’re getting, quite literally, more bang for your buck. 😍
  • You’ll get store credit to spend on a later order: $25 when you spend $125, $45 when you spend $175, and $65 when you spend $225 or more. I love when stores do this close to the holidays, because it means you can selflessly buy gifts for your loved ones now, and then selfishly get some extra cash to spend on yourself later. 😎

What’s worth getting from Fun Factory? Honestly, a lot of things. But here are my top recommendations at the moment:

  • The Stronic Petite ($112.49 with the current sale) is my latest love. Fun Factory’s self-thrusting Stronic toys are much-loved but are all on the larger side, so I was glad that the brand decided to release a smaller version of their signature thrusters. It’s aimed at folks going through menopause, who might find its 1.38″ max diameter more comfortable, but really it’s suitable for anyone who wants a thruster but can’t handle a ton of girth. (Keep in mind, though, that it’s not anal-safe.)
  • The Manta ($104.99) is one of my favorite penis vibes, and is super fun to use on a partner (or, I would imagine, on oneself). It’s rare to find a vibe as perfectly suited for penile pleasure as this one is; its silicone wings wrap around your shaft, regardless of size, and add some delicious vibration to whatever else you’re doing – or you can even use this toy by itself, concentrating the vibrations on your frenulum or wherever else feels good.
  • The Magnum dildo ($44.99) is an all-around excellent dildo that works well for lots of different purposes, from solo sex to strap-on play to bathtime fun. It’s got a small-to-average diameter, maxing out at 1.26″, and a longer-than-average length (6.69″ insertable – nice), so it’s comfortable to use in many different positions and holes. Its angled head makes it feel lovely against the G-spot or prostate, too.
  • The Bootie ($26.24) is an ideal butt plug for anal newbies. It’s small, comfortably shaped, easy to insert and remove, and made of silicone that flexes and bends with your body. I used to suggest it several times a week to would-be anal lovers when they would come into the sex shop I worked at, asking for recommendations.
  • The Big Boss ($104.99) is a must-have for people who like a lot of sensation. It packs powerfully rumbly vibrations into its overwhelmingly girthy body, such that your G-spot won’t be able to elude it. I love the looped handle, too, as someone who struggles at times to thrust toys as hard and as fast as my greedy G-spot would prefer.

 

Check out the Fun Factory Black Friday/Cyber Monday deals for yourself, and see whether there’s something you’d like to get for a friend, partner, or just to add to your own collection!

 

This post was sponsored. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.

Why I Love the Ukulele

Kate Sloan

Ukulele, small and fierceful
Ukulele, brave and peaceful
You can play the ukulele too –
It is painfully simple
-Amanda Palmer, “Ukulele Anthem“

I’ve been writing songs since before I knew how to play any instruments; it’s baked into me how yeast is baked into bread. But instruments are a big part of how you bring music into the world, and convey to listeners the way you’re hearing your songs inside your head, and so I always wanted to learn to play an instrument, long before I ever did.

A year or more into piano lessons (which I enjoyed, though I begrudged having to practice my Bach and Chopin), I started listening obsessively to indie folk artists on a website called PureVolume (it was sort of like the MySpace of the music industry at the time) and, in particular, found myself drawn to songs written on acoustic guitars. I had an old violin, inherited from a relative and missing a string, and I would sit in front of the family computer plucking out simple chords on this creaky old instrument and sing over them into a USB microphone. Once, my dad walked by while I was doing this, and he remarked aloud, “We gotta get this girl a guitar.”

Playing my first guitar, circa 2008

He did, and it’s still one of the most meaningful acts of love I can recall in my life. He took me to Long & McQuade, arguably the best music shop in Toronto, and I told the salesman I wanted an acoustic guitar. (Electric guitars weren’t really on my radar; the artists I cared about then were all writing on acoustics.) The salesman asked me if I wanted a steel-stringed guitar or a nylon-stringed one, and I didn’t know, so he grabbed one of each. “Nylon-stringed guitars are usually used for classical music,” he explained, playing a bit of fingerpicked flamenco on the one he’d chosen, “whereas steel-stringed guitars are used in folk music.” He played a few bars of music that sounded like folk-rock to me – like the music I’d been listening to on PureVolume – and I said, “That one, please.” My fate was sealed.

I loved my guitar, and took lessons for a few years from a chill-as-hell Irish hipster named Eoghan (pronounced like “Owen”) who was getting a degree in jazz guitar. One December, my mom sent along a box of cookies for me to give him as a Christmas gift, and he was so surprised and flustered by this that he gave me a huge book of jazz standards he happened to have in his guitar case that day. I treasured that book, and still have it.

No matter how many guitar lessons I took, though, it just never felt as natural to me as singing or playing the piano. My fingers weren’t strong enough to play barre chords, or nimble enough to swap quickly between different chords. True, I could have (and should have) practiced more than I did, but it felt like I was hitting an insurmountable wall, limited by my level of physical ability.

My guitar teacher worked out of a music school on top of a music store, and so I would walk through their rows of instruments every time I went to a lesson. And sometime around age 16, I began to notice the ukuleles hanging adorably in a back corner. One fateful day in 2008, I took a couple friends with me to the shop and picked out a bright green Beaver Creek ukulele, paid approximately $40 for it, and walked out holding my musical future in my hands.

It was just so clear to me, so quickly, that I was meant to play the ukulele. I fell in love with it the way I fall in love with human beings: quickly, obsessively, and all-consumingly.

See what happens when you muzzle a person’s creativity
And do not let them sing and scream
And nowadays, it’s worse, ’cause kids have automatic handguns
It takes about an hour to teach someone to play the ukulele
About the same to teach someone to build a standard pipe bomb
You do the math!
-Amanda Palmer, “Ukulele Anthem“

If you’re not familiar, the ukulele differs from the guitar in a few key ways. It’s smaller, and tuned higher; it’s cheaper, and has a thinner but more playful sound. And, crucially, it has only four strings instead of six, so chord shapes are simpler, requiring less nimbleness and coordination of the player’s fingers. Its strings tend to be made of nylon or similar materials, so it doesn’t require as much strength as pressing down on steel guitar strings, which can bite into your fingertips like knives if you haven’t formed callouses there yet.

I wasn’t diagnosed with fibromyalgia yet at that time, and who knows when I actually developed that illness – but the struggles which led me to prefer ukulele over guitar have only deepened over the years, in large part due to my fibro. My hands are weaker than I’d prefer, and often sore. I’m clumsy and prone to dropping things, stumbling, hitting wrong notes on the fretboard. I’m frequently frustrated by an inability to translate the songs I hear in my head into an audible, tangible result that I can share with others. The ukulele, therefore, is perfect for me.

With the barrier of insufficient hand strength removed from the equation, I’ve gotten much better at ukulele than I ever got at guitar, even though I took guitar lessons for years and am mostly self-taught on the ukulele. I can play complicated chord changes from jazz or musical theatre, and never (okay, almost never) get so frustrated that I want to throw my instrument across the room. I can strum chords or finger-pick, write songs or learn other people’s songs. It feels easy and natural to me in a way that guitar never did.

There’s a term I love, “access intimacy,” which I learned from some kink workshop at a conference long ago. (I can’t recall who introduced me to this concept, or I would credit them.) It refers to the intimacy you can have with people who recognize and meet your access needs – whether those needs are related to physical disabilities, such as requiring ramps and access to handicapped bathrooms, or mental-emotional issues, such as needing to avoid certain PTSD triggers or needing a slow approach to task-switching due to ADHD.

I genuinely feel that I have “access intimacy” with the ukulele. It meets me where I’m at. It enables me to make music, write music, and feel like I’m a part of the music-making community, even though virtuosic guitar-playing is beyond my grasp.

The cheapness and accessibility of ukuleles is also highly democratizing. As singer-songwriter Amanda Palmer points out in her “Ukulele Anthem,” beginner ukuleles are usually pretty affordable (you can find ’em for $20-50, although I’d recommend spending at least $40 if you want a decent-sounding uke), and the chords are simple enough that you can pick up many of them in just an hour or two of practicing, especially if you have some music knowledge under your belt already. I love knowing that even if I suddenly needed to spend a lot of time away from home – as Amanda Palmer did when she got stuck in New Zealand toward the beginning of the pandemic – I could walk to a local music shop and be reunited with my favorite instrument for less money than a meal at a mid-tier restaurant. It makes me feel safe and secure, knowing I can take my music with me anywhere I go. One of the deepest and truest ways I know my spouse really loves me is that they keep a ukulele in the corner of their living room, even though they don’t play any instruments, simply because they know I’m calmer and happier when there’s a ukulele nearby that I can pick up whenever the whim strikes.

Nowadays, even as I’m mired in seasonal depression and fibro pain and general 21st-century millennial malaise, I keep a soprano ukulele on my bed so it’s always there when I feel like reaching for it. Not next to my bed, not near my bed, but on my bed. It’s small enough that I can do that. And many days, having it there is the difference between feeling sad and listless, and playing songs until I find my smile again.

I’ve taught ukulele lessons, I’ve bought ukuleles for friends, I’ve evangelized about ukuleles to all who would listen – and the reason for all this is simple. The ukulele has changed my life, made it brighter and bolder and easier and more fun. It has made music feel delightful instead of soul-sucking and painful. Every time I hold this little instrument in my arms, I feel grateful to be able to pluck its four strings.

So play your favorite Beatles’ song
And make the subway fall in love
They’re only $19.95; that isn’t lots of money
Play until the sun comes up
And play until your fingers suffer
Play LCD Soundsystem songs on your ukulele
Quit the bitching on your blog
And stop pretending art is hard
Just limit yourself to three chords
And do not practice daily
You’ll minimize some stranger’s sadness
With a piece of wood and plastic
Holy fuck, it’s so fantastic, playing ukulele!
-Amanda Palmer, “Ukulele Anthem“

Mourning Twitter, a Hellsite for the Ages

Kate Sloan

I’ve been very depressed this last week, and I’d be lying if I said it had nothing to do with the imminent demise of Twitter as we knew it. There are other factors, of course, but Twitter is a big one.

It’s been hard explaining this to people whose brains aren’t as broken by Twitter as mine is. I’ve been a user of the site since 2007, when I was 15 years old. I have never been an adult in a world without Twitter, and never really considered the possibility that I would have to. So it’s disorienting, to say the least, that an inept and egomaniacal billionaire is dismantling the site I’ve long considered my digital home-away-from-home.

Don’t get me wrong: Twitter isn’t perfect and never has been. Abuse has always run rampant on it, including a lot of homophobic, biphobic, misogynist and antisemitic abuse, which has felt viscerally frightening to me as a queer Jewish woman. It’s been a hub for disinformation, doomscrolling, and unsettling DMs. It has enabled racists, excluded sex workers, and let hate speech abound unchecked. And that’s just listing a few of the things that were (and are) wrong with Twitter.

But it’s also the place where I met my spouse, and my best friend/podcast cohost, and several other good friends and past partners. It’s the place where I’ve connected with editors, clients, and sources. It’s the place where I’ve shared my silly thoughts, my hot takes, my pain, my fury, and my joy.

The linguist Gretchen McCulloch argues in her book Because Internet that sites such as Twitter are the digital equivalent of a hallway at a high school or in a college dorm; they’re a place where casual, ambient socializing happens – as opposed to socializing that you have to specifically seek out and plan – and they therefore allow you to connect with people you might never have met otherwise. This feels very true to me – where else but Twitter could I chat with Tokyo-based game designers, London escorts and Texan law professors about current events in the course of a single hour?

Twitter was also, notably, one of the more sexually permissive mainstream social media sites. True, I know many people who got shadowbanned or outright kicked off the service for posting about sex work or BDSM, but nudes and porn are specifically allowed on Twitter and that automatically made it feel like a more welcoming place for me and my sex-nerd pals than, say, Facebook or Instagram, where we still have to self-censor with bastardized “words” like “seggs” and “secks” just to keep our accounts up-and-running.

I also maintain that Twitter is one of the best dating sites for demisexuals like me, because it allows you to get to know someone through their words first and their face second (if at all). I have far more Twitter crushes than Instagram crushes (or even IRL crushes) because I crush on people’s brains first and foremost, and Twitter made it easier than any other site for me to connect with people whose brains made my own brain tingle.

I loved Twitter, despite its many shortcomings and mistakes. I won’t be jumping ship immediately, especially since self-promotion is a big part of how I stay afloat professionally/financially so I can’t afford to leave the place where my biggest platform is. But if you’d like to follow me elsewhere – which I’d really appreciate, since I love y’all – here’s where to keep up with me:

  • This blog, obviously. I’m more convinced than ever that maintaining a self-hosted personal blog is the way of the future, given how many social media websites keep betraying us.
  • I’m @girly_juice on Instagram and that’s where I’m most active aside from Twitter.
  • My newsletter, where I send out a little essay on love, sex, and other random topics every week to my premium subscribers (it’s $5/month or $50/year). If you can’t afford a premium subscription, you can still sign up as a free subscriber and you’ll get free dispatches from me a couple times a year or so.
  • On Mastodon, which some people think will be Twitter’s major replacement, I can be found at @girlyjuice@mastodon.social – go follow me!

I love you, I’m glad you’re here, and I’m trying to look forward to whatever comes next.

 

This post contains a sponsored link, ’cause a girl’s gotta eat. As ever, all writing and opinions are my own.

Review: Womanizer OG (A Pressure-Wave Stimulator For Your G-Spot!)

Kate Sloan

Ever since the first Womanizer launched years ago, consumers have had plenty of questions about the pressure-wave technology these toys utilized. How does it work? (It sends out rhythmic pulses of air to create a tapping/sucking sensation on the external clit.) Does it feel better than vibration? (Not “better,” exactly, but different, and some people might like it more.) Are pricey pressure-wave toys worth the money? (Possibly, but you’re better off trying a cheaper one initially to see if you like it.)

Another question that’s often been asked about these toys is: Can this technology be used to stimulate areas other than the clit?

The company that originated the technology proved that indeed it can be used for other purposes when they developed the Arcwave, a pressure-wave toy for dicks that focuses on the frenulum. But now, they’ve expanded the scope of their offerings and launched the Womanizer OG, a toy that uses pressure-waves on your G-spot. Is it any good? Let’s talk about it.

 

Things I like about the Womanizer OG

  • The OG combines pressure-waves with vibration, which has always been a pretty successful combination when Womanizer’s attempted it before, and is successful here too. They feel good together, though I have some concerns about the fact that they can’t be used separately from one another (more on that below).
  • On that note, the vibration quality is exactly what my G-spot tends to crave: deep and rumbly, no matter which of the three vibration intensities you’re on. This makes it less likely to activate an annoying or painful “need-to-pee” feeling when I press it against my G-spot, and makes blended orgasms easier to achieve.
  • The “mouth” of the toy has been expanded from Womanizers’ typical clit-sized dimensions; it’s longer, wider, and flatter, so as to stimulate your G-spot better. This could also potentially make it better for folks with bigger clits who want a pressure-wave toy they can use either internally or externally (the manual recommends warming up by using the OG on your clit before using it internally).
  • The curve of the toy’s body is well-designed: it’s ergonomic to hold, and to thrust with, but (at least for my particular anatomy) the handle doesn’t get in the way of my clit too much and I can still use a clitoral vibe or touch my clit with my fingers while the OG is inside me.
  • The OG has “Smart Silence,” a feature where the toy shuts off when you move it away from your skin and starts up again when you make contact. This isn’t super relevant for a G-spot toy because it’s (presumably) going to be inside you most of the time that you’re using it, but it’s nice if, for example, you need to suddenly pull the toy out of you and go answer the door for the mail delivery person or something, and don’t have time to hold down the “off” button for a few seconds. Also, Smart Silence can be turned off if you don’t like it.
  • The toy also has an “Afterglow” feature where, if you press the “minus” button for one second, the toy jumps back down to its lowest intensity. This feature is intended to prevent painful overstimulation that can happen during and after orgasm.
  • The manual and promotional materials for the OG are all very clear on two key points: that the G-spot is more of a G-zone, and that clitoral stimulation is crucial for most vagina-owners even if their G-spot is being stimulated well. I genuinely appreciate sex toy companies who provide accurate information to their consumers, instead of constantly hyping up their product’s virtues at the risk of making some users feel “broken” for not experiencing the toy as instantaneously orgasmic.
  • It comes in a few not-especially-gendered colors. The “slate” shade is your best bet if you loathe traditional sex toy pinks and purples.
  • The silicone covering the toy is smooth, soft, and plays well with water-based lube.
  • Like most pressure-wave toys these days, the OG is waterproof, so you can take it in the shower or bath and don’t need to worry you’ll ruin it while washing it.

Things I don’t like about the Womanizer OG

  • Most annoyingly for me, you can’t use the pressure-waves separately from the vibration – and I actually wonder if this was done on purpose, to mask the relative ineffectiveness of pressure-waves on the G-spot. I can’t feel much when the toy is in use aside from the vibration, which (don’t get me wrong) feels good, but isn’t exactly a revolutionary sensation. I asked Womanizer about this and they said the pressure-waves and vibration “are always simultaneous, but if you want to focus on one feature more than the other, you can turn it down to the lowest level,” and indeed, there are three different vibration settings which can be controlled separately from the intensity of the pressure-waves. But there’s no way to turn the vibrations off altogether, and even on the lowest level, the pressure-waves feel drowned out by vibration so I can’t give a definitive statement on whether they actually feel good alone.
  • The OG retails for $199–219 (depending on where you get it from) and I find that price hard to justify, given that – to my seasoned vagina, anyhow – it doesn’t feel that different from a great G-spot vibrator like the Lelo Mona 2 ($169), Swan Wand ($116) or We-Vibe Rave ($113). I understand that the pressure-wave technology must be more expensive to implement, but if it’s barely discernible over the vibrations then I’m not sure it was worth implementing, or that it’s worth paying extra for.
  • The phrase “simultaneous stimulation” is used a lot in the marketing for the OG, which – in conjunction with its almost C-shaped body – might make some consumers think it can stimulate your G-spot and your clit at the same time, which it can’t (or at least can’t do well). The “simultaneous stimulation” being referred to is the vibration and pressure-waves being applied simultaneously to your G-spot.
  • The marketing copy also says that the toy is “flexible,” allowing for “a comfortable, custom fit,” but it is not. I can bend it maybe half an inch, if that, before it starts to feel like I might snap it in half if I push harder. That’s enough flex to potentially make it more comfortable to thrust in and out, but since a lot of people’s G-spots prefer firm, steady pressure, I’m not sure flexibility was a good choice for this toy anyway.
  • The manual notes, “Smart Silence may not work when the stimulation head is wet. Therefore, please make sure not to apply lube into the Pleasure Air head.” This is baffling to me. If you’re designing a toy specifically to go into the vagina, all of its features should work regardless of how wet it gets – and if that’s not possible, that feature shouldn’t be offered on that toy.
  • The big, wide mouth is hard to clean, and inevitably gets caked with vag gunk in short order. This isn’t a detriment operationally because the toy is waterproof and will keep chugging away regardless of how much cum gets into it (except for the Smart Silence feature, as described above), but you will need to have some kind of scrub brush on hand when you wash it after use (an old toothbrush works great) and it can be hard to tell if you’ve actually cleaned it thoroughly or not.
  • Speaking of the toy’s mouth, it’s not well-shaped for clitoral stimulation (at least for my clit, which I’d say is on the larger end of average but not large-large), so despite what the toy’s manual recommends, I haven’t been able to get myself turned on for an OG session by first using it on my clit. It just doesn’t form a seal the way normal clitoral Womanizers do for me, so the stimulation is almost imperceptible.
  • The name is bad. “Womanizer” in itself is still a pretty shitty brand name, and “OG” (presumably a reference to “original gangster,” yikes) doesn’t make sense as a name because usually it means that something is “the original,” the first iteration of itself, whereas the OG is a much-evolved pressure-wave toy that bears little resemblance to the first Womanizers. But I’m a pedant, so.

Final thoughts

Don’t get me wrong: I can orgasm easily and consistently with the Womanizer OG, when it’s paired with a clitoral vibe. If you like G-spot vibrators, or have reason to believe you might, then you’d probably like the OG.

The problem is, I just don’t think it feels different enough from any other good-quality G-spot vibrator to warrant its hype and high price tag. Or maybe my G-spot just isn’t sensitive enough to detect a difference – but if that’s the case, I imagine that’s true of most people’s G-spots, since that area isn’t nearly as enervated as the external clitoris to begin with.

As with the Arcwave, I have to commend Womanizer for taking a big risk on a new and innovative way of utilizing pressure-waves, but I’m just not sure it works as well as they hoped. If they choose to make more pressure-wave G-spot toys in the future, I hope they’re able to focus on the pressure-waves themselves, not just vibrations, so that users can actually feel the fancy technology they’re splurging on.

If you want a fantastic Womanizer, get the Premium 2 and put it on your clit. If you want an excellent G-spot vibrator, get a Lelo Mona 2. If you want to feel pressure-waves on your G-spot and have some cash to spend, feel free to give the OG a shot – but I’m hopeful that this isn’t the last we’ll hear about G-spot pressure-waves, and that future iterations will emphasize the pleasures of pressure-waves instead of overpowering them with vibration, rumbly and pleasurable though it may be.

 

Thanks to Womanizer for sending me this toy to try! They didn’t pay me to write this review. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.