Lelo

My Sex Toy Drawers

Kate Sloan

Today I’m going to take a leaf out of Epiphora’s book and show you how I store my sex toys. This is something I’m always curious about with other people, so I thought I’d share some photos for those of you who obsess over toy storage as much as I do!

When I first started reviewing sex toys, I cleaned out this old stack of plastic drawers that had been holding miscellaneous papers and objects in my bedroom for years. I had previously been keeping my sex toys in a vintage hatbox, but my collection was already starting to outgrow that method, so I knew it was time for an upgrade.

On top of the drawers, I keep my external hard drives (there’s no other place for them to go, so whatevs!), a bottle of antibacterial toy cleaner, and a washcloth for wiping off the cleaner once it’s done its job. I also usually keep newer toys on top of the drawers as a reminder to myself that I need to use them so I can review them.

The top drawer holds all my frequently-used favorites, with the exception of the Eroscillator which I keep plugged in at my bedside. This drawer contains the Fling, Pure Wand, Tsunami (review coming on Friday!), Lelo Mona, Turbo Glider, and Amethyst. I’ve also stuffed in some Tantus stickers that I don’t know what to do with, and my original Eroscillator attachments, which I never use now that I have the fingertip attachment.

The second drawer holds anal toys like the Ripple and Joe Rock, vaginal exercisers like the Eclipse balls and Magic Banana, and couples’ toys like the Tiani and FixSation. I’ve also filled this drawer with toy wipes, small bottles and packets of lube, unneeded bullet vibes, flavored condoms, and latex gloves. This is basically a drawer of miscellany. As a side note, I keep all the silicone toys wrapped in plastic bags so that they don’t touch each other and have chemical reactions.

My third drawer is deeper than the others, so it can fit more stuff. I use it to hold all the dildos I use sometimes but not too often, like the Ella, Adam, and Echo. Once again, I keep the silicone toys wrapped in plastic bags (which are kept in this drawer for easy access), and I try to wrap all the glass toys in some kind of padded covering, like a scarf or some packing materials.

The bottom drawer doesn’t get used very often. Currently it’s where I keep extra condoms, porn DVDs, erotica books, and random instructional booklets that came with some of my toys.

As for the toys I own that I rarely or never use anymore, those get stashed in my hatbox, where I can remove them to show them off to friends but don’t actually have to look at them or deal with them. I keep condoms in a little easy-access basket right next to my bed, and lube just adjacent to that.

How do you store your sex toys? What would be the ideal storage system for your toy collection?

Sex Toy Haikus

Kate Sloan

In lieu of doing individual follow-up posts, I think I’m going to start writing haikus to express how I currently feel about toys that I’ve reviewed before. Because sex toys are worthy of poetry.

Lelo Mia:
Sorry I haven’t
touched you in ages, Mia.
You’re not that special.

California Exotics Waterproof Jack Rabbit:
My first and only
jelly toy. I weep for my
burning vagina.

Eroscillator:
My clit is in love.
It’s a love that oscillates
from lust to worship.

Lelo Ella:
Warm-up toy supreme.
No one else opens me up
as sweetly as she.

Blossom Organics Natural Moisturizing Lubricant:
All lubes should be as
vag-friendly and simple as
this bedside staple.

Review: PicoBong Kaya

Kate Sloan

Lelo is one of my very favorite sex toy companies. They make beautiful, rechargeable vibrators that could satisfy any luxury-loving vibration fan. In their efforts to expand, they released a cheaper, lower-end line of toys, marketed toward younger people with less money to spend on “luxury erotic lifestyle objects” – people like me, I suppose. The line is called PicoBong and it’s been effectively torn apart by the sex toy reviewers of the world.

Judging by the awful-to-middling descriptions of PicoBong’s toys, which cite flaws ranging from insufficient vibrations to badly-placed seams, I wasn’t expecting much when I received my bright turquoise Kaya in the mail. But I soon learned that Kaya is from PicoBong’s newer line of products, and is therefore a significant improvement on the items reviewers were rightfully complaining about. Still, though, it’s far from perfect.

If I could design my ideal rabbit, it would look similar to the Kaya – slim-to-average shaft, flexible curved clitoral arm, body-safe silicone, simple controls (up, down, change mode) – but my rabbit would have a twirling shaft, not a vibrating one. Why? Because most G-spots, including mine, respond better to stroking and pressure than they do to vibration. I think a vibrating rabbit shaft is something of a cop-out: an easy way to design a toy, but not the most effective design for the majority of users, at least from what I can tell.

Kaya’s power is far better than I was expecting, given how many people lamented the pitiful vibration strength of the previous PicoBong products. Turned all the way up, it’s comparable to the upper speeds of my Lelo Mona – strong enough to get off the average user, but not enough for a power queen. The clitoral arm thrums impressively, and as ambivalent as I feel about the internal motor, it’s not bad, either.

Kaya is waterproof. I successfully used it in the bath without any problems. It’s not the quietest of toys, but it’s certainly not the loudest – a bedmate would hear you using it, but someone down the hall probably wouldn’t.

The Kaya really shines when you start cycling through its vibration modes. Most of them just switch back and forth between the two motors, but they do so in varied and creative ways. There’s one pattern in particular that I really like, where the clitoral arm hums steadily while the internal motor goes up and down in a roller-coaster-like way, feeling almost like it’s stroking my G-spot. Sadly, this mode is useless to me when I want to reach orgasm, because the up-and-down buttons control the internal motor in this mode, while the external motor stays at the same medium level no matter what I do. If I want to get off with this mode, I have to press the outer arm into my clit or rub it up and down – and that sort of defeats the purpose of using a sex toy, doesn’t it?

The Kaya’s shape is good, its vibrations are adequate, and it’s easy to use. However, I can’t give it my seal of approval, because it costs $89.95. For a battery-powered vibe that will only work for some users, that’s way too much money. I’d be willing to say this toy was worth the price if it was rechargeable, or if the shaft rotated, or if each motor could be controlled independently, but that’s not the case.

Get Kaya if you really, really want a cute-looking, battery-powered, waterproof, dual-stimulation vibrator with cool modes and a medium amount of power. But if that doesn’t sound like exactly what you’re looking for, I’d recommend that you spend a few extra dollars and spring for a toy from Lelo proper, or get a cheaper rabbit vibe from a different brand instead (as long as it’s made of a nonporous material). The Kaya is good, but not nearly good enough to warrant its high price tag.

5 Sex Toys I Covet For Their Weirdness

Kate Sloan

My sex toy wishlists are an eclectic amalgamation of awesome, good, and questionable. (You can click over to them using the links in my sidebar, if you want to take a look or even buy me something.) There are all sorts of materials (everything except jelly!), shapes, sizes, functions, intensities, volumes, companies, and levels of attractiveness. I thought I’d do a post to profile some of the weirder items on my wishlists, and the reasons I want them.

At first glance, the Vibratex Pixie Plus looks like any gross sex toy you could pull off a shelf at a low-end “novelty” sex shop – cheap, nubby, vaguely jelly-esque (don’t worry, it’s elastomer). But if you could turn it on, you’d see that the internal portion of the Pixie doesn’t vibrate – its tip strokes back and forth, like the famous “come hither” motion. Since most G-spots respond better to stroking than they do to vibration, I am all for dual-stimulation vibes with internal parts that do something interesting.

The Lelo Olga wins the award for most ridiculously luxe toy, because it’s just Ella made of stainless steel and given a price increase of approximately 700%. Despite what a silly purchase it’d be, I want it, because Ella’s neck was too bendy and couldn’t put enough pressure on my G-spot. Plus, you could use Olga to do your daily bicep curls.

Love To Love’s Oh Oui! is a hot pink vibrating banana. It makes me wonder if there is a fruit fetishist market within the sex toy industry. But I gotta say, it looks like it’d reach my G-spot efficiently, which is more than I can say for many toys.

I will one day have a Clone-a-Willy Kit. It turns out that my boyfriend’s cock is literally the perfect size for me – long enough to fill me up without hitting my cervix, wide enough to hit the right spots without stretching me apart – and I want a replica that I can use when I’m alone. For now, I’m lusting after the Mark O2 because it seems to have similar dimensions… but one day, I will want a real copy, and that is where Clone-a-Willy comes in.

There’s been much talk about the Sqweel, an oral sex simulator with ten fast-flapping tongues. Many reviewers say it’s messy, not stimulating enough, has seams you can feel, and gets in the way of any penetrative toys you might want to use in tandem with it. Still, something about it makes me want it. I’m a cunnilingus enthusiast 4 lyfe, and that is why I need a Sqweel, no matter how bad it is.

Review: Lelo Ella

Kate Sloan

Prior to buying Ella, my sex toy collection contained only one dildo. One. It’s rippled and made of glass, and while it’s not terribly exciting, I’ve never really wanted for more until recently.

It was Epiphora’s review that made me want Ella with a rabid, raging lust. ‘Piph tells a tale of G-spot glory, of her first non-clitoral orgasm, and ultimately of squirting. As someone who has only ever been able to come clitorally, and without waterworks, I knew I needed to try this toy.

Lelo’s packaging is, as always, a triumph. My all-white Ella came in a matching white slip-box, which contained Lelo’s signature thick black monogrammed cardboard box. I have five Lelos now (I know, I know, somebody stop me) and those boxes sure look gorgeous when they’re all stacked up. They’re like the sex toy equivalent of a set of elegant encyclopedias on the shelf.

My first impression, upon opening said box, was that the Ella is smaller than I expected. It’s made for G-spotting enthusiasts, not size queens – so if you crave fullness, this is not the toy for you.

Now, onto the good stuff… Jacking off with Ella is a joy. With a dollop of water-based lube (don’t use silicone on silicone!), even that awkward-looking G-spotting end slides right in. And once it’s in, it goes right for its goal: the G-spot. Depending on your anatomy, you may find that you need to push the toy in a little deeper or pull it out a little bit to help it find your spot – but mine can be found by Ella right away, like magic.

I like this toy a lot, but even as the G-spotting novice that I am, I can tell that it doesn’t do its job perfectly, although it does do it quite well. Ella’s made of 100% silicone – a blessing in terms of safety and hygiene, but not so great if you want something firm. The toy’s body is hard and practically unyielding, but the neck has some give to it, which makes it difficult to put a lot of pressure on the G-spot. It’s certainly easier to apply pressure with Ella than it was with my fingers, or my curveless glass dildo, but it’s not as easy as it would be with a completely rigid toy.

Still, there are other times when the silicone feels too hard. Ella hits my G-spot so nicely that it makes me want to thrust much faster, and when I do that, the toy’s pointy end sometimes jabs into my cervix, momentarily killing the mood. This is okay – I’ve learned to avoid thrusting Ella too deeply – but it does give the toy a learning curve and a risk of pain that some may not like.

But overall, the silicone formulation is pretty awesome. I’ve used the Ella several times while on my period, with it ending up covered in reddish-brownish stains, and all of the blood washed right off with soap and hot water. No stains. No discoloration. Nada. Bravo, Lelo!

So while Ella certainly does the trick, and can add some decent G-spot pressure to my clitoral orgasms, I don’t think it has the power to make me come all by itself. I’ll keep trying, but I think I’ll have to wait until I get my hands on a Pure Wand before I’ll be able to fairly judge my own orgasmic capacity.