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06 Aug 2020 (Last updated 24 Sep 2023)

Our first vibrator stories

Vibrator Guide 14 min read
two orange bullet vibrators by smile makers
Featured

My first vibrator story.

We never forget our first love, but we seldom take time to reminisce about our first vibrator. We asked the Smile Makers community to share their stories on how they got their beginner buzz!

Vibrators come and go, but our first time with a vibrator touches us in ways we don’t always expect! Just like our first time masturbating, it introduces us to new sensations and marks a new stage of self-discovery, sexual exploration, and pleasure. Often the experience of acquiring our earliest sex toy is just as memorable as the feel-good vibes that follow. To a certain extent, those events contribute even more to our personal growth; overcoming embarrassment, feeling empowered, and realizing just how normal using a vibrator is. Do-it-yourself becomes self-improvement as we become more familiar with both our body and mind. We build a better awareness of our identity, wants, and desires which makes room for positive habits that last a lifetime. Yep, we’re saying it – our first vibrator teaches us valuable life lessons!

Do any of the stories stimulate your memories of your first time? Submit your first vibrator story here.

The One With The Sex-Positive Parent - Written by Sylvan

When I was 13, my incredible sex positive mother took me to our local feminist sex shop to buy me my first vibrator. I was shy and awkward at first, but my mom and the store staff were so open and comfortable with sexuality that I relaxed quickly and explored all the different types of sex toys, lingerie, and candy genitals with a coy fascination.

I eventually settled on a simple purple vibrator that the store had named "Vivian." I remember taking her home in a colorful paper bag, feeling like I had the sexiest little secret in my hand. And that night, a beautiful love affair began. Viv accompanied me through puberty, sexual discoveries, first relationships, and heartbreak. She gave me some incredible orgasms and a deep appreciation for my own body and pleasure. Although she eventually broke when I was in high school, the self-love and confidence she helped me find is a gift I will always have. Thank you, Vivian.

The One With a Proud Lucky Dip – Written by Luce

I was fifteen. It was my cousin's Hen Do. We were staying the weekend in a group of cottages near Chester, and I was there with my mum, two of my aunties, both my cousins (who were about 30), and the bride-to-be's friends. I was, by far, the youngest person there, and by law, still a child.

The Friday night we spent at the cottages, drinking, playing sex related games, and having a jolly ole good time. The games included but were not exclusive to pin the penis on the man, match the celebrity crush to the individual here, match the baby face to the individual; and I happened to do pretty well. Sophie, the Maid of Honour, had done a brilliant job to plan all the games as well as buy a bunch of prizes for a lucky dip. So, since I'd done so well, I got to do a lucky dip for a prize...

In my hand goes, fiddling around, and I feel what I thought was a small mascara brush in plastic packaging on cardboard, and I thought, "yes! Brilliant! I needed a new mascara!". I pulled it out, excited, and the sight of it in wrapping paper confirmed what I thought it was. Much to my 15-year-old-new-to-masturbating-self's surprise when I unwrapped it and it was not mascara but... a silver bullet thing...

I didn't EVEN KNOW what it was. Then everyone is roaring with laughter and I'm just like, "aha aha aha ... thanks for the mascara?"

Someone soon tells me what it is (it's a vibrator btw) …I have to get them to explain what a vibrator even is... then I have multiple people, my aunty included, offering to take it off my hands for me. "You can have a different prize, Lucy, don't worry.".

NO WAY. I'm having it! It sounds great.

So, I did have it... my first toy was a lucky dip prize and was known about by both my aunties, my cousins, and my mother. I was quite proud of it, it was my naughty secret (except from the female family members) for years, and the little bullet could do its magic in less than a minute. A joyous gift. Thank you, Sophie.

It was only last year (at the age of 21) that I bought my second sex toy, a rabbit, and now I'm the proud owner of quite a number more and feeling very sexually free.

Learn how to use a rabbit vibrator.

The One That Found The Orgasm - Written by Lane

My first vibrator was a gift from me to myself. Was my 28th birthday and I decided to take a big step towards my self-pleasure. I was going through an orgasm crisis, almost sure that I never had one and I couldn’t understand why. I love having sex, it’s fun and it makes me happy, I’ve been masturbating since I am 13th and I was still not sure if that feeling was the so-called orgasm.

I finally opened up about it, started talking with friends and the most common answer was: if you are not sure, is because it didn’t happen yet. I had so many questions, for a week I was listening to podcasts, reading articles, talking with more friends and questioning myself about everything related to my sex life.

After a while, I finally decided to do more about it, I did some research, got some feedbacks, went online and got my first vibrator ever, i was so excited that I even payed more for the express delivery.

When it arrived, my expectations were through the roof! I ran to use it, and to be honest, I think the whole expectations part ruined my first experience. I felt like I was broken, what was wrong with me?

I didn’t wanna tell my friends about my first-time vibrator disappointment, but I was not ready to give up. After a couple of days, I decided to try it again, work on the details and make more of an experience till I finally got there.

I can’t imagine my life without one, but I know this is only the beginning of my sexual path discover. I’ve been exploring it alone and with my partner, but I know that some things are still left to be found. Also became that friend who asks every single person about orgasms and now promotes the ‘buy a vibrator and be happy lifestyle’ 😂2💛

The One Where They Are BFFs Forever - Written by Happy Secret

We had the same name. We lived in a share house with a dimpled glass French door parting the space between us. We had the same standing Thai takeout order, matching hot pink athleisure and when we laughed together it felt like our sides would split open. When the time came to exit the world of curiosity and enter the world of action, we turned to each other as a source of authority. In moments like this, we were both equally as shy and overwhelmed as the other. Rabbit, vibrator, dildo - the nuance was completely lost on us and when we turned to the internet for more information the furthest corners of our barren student-income bank accounts shrivelled away. They cost how much? I’ll stick to doing it myself, thank you very much.

We had to do it though, we decided. Buying a vibrator was a rite of passage, a way of laying claim on the vast expanse that was our slowly blossoming venture into “womanhood”. Soon, surely, we should be entering a phase of our life where we had suitors’ numbers saved into our phone as ‘the Frenchman’, ‘the tennis coach’ & ‘the surfer’. We’d sip expensive wines and lunch for hours. Somehow, we’d have mastered the art of washing whites and not

getting tanning lotion on our bedsheets. Owning a vibrator was the first step toward growing into the savvy, stylish, self-pleasuring women we were destined to be.

We met in the city after classes finished. Both of our parents worked for the same bank, and as a precaution both of us had taken cash out earlier in the day. God forbid prying eyes ever see “Naughty but Nice Emporium XXXX” pop up on an incoming bank statement. Entry to the store was down a narrow and dingy flight of stairs which emerged into a typical, unimaginatively designed sex shop. Glass shelves, lots of chrome and flashing red lights. Neither of us were surprised by the store itself, we’d been watching Secret Diary of a Call Girl religiously in preparation and it looked just like what was on TV. Chocolate butthole moulds, fluffy cuffs, huge dildos flopped over the edge of their display.

“Do you need a hand finding anything?” The question sent us both into a predictable spiral - one playing the overly confident card - not really, been here loads of times, boring, boring, seen it all before really - and the other knocking over a stand of lube in a panic. Just looking! Eventually we found ourselves huddled around one particular pink dildo that we decided might to the job. We’d come to the realisation that neither of us had the money for anything particularly classy or good - a lurid pink penis it would have to be. Naturally, we both selected the same toy and gingerly carried them up to the counter.

The woman at the counter, ever the professional mostly managed to hide her smile at the twin set, both bumbling our ways through the purchase, handing a small wad of cash over the counter, quickly stashing the boxes and toy cleaner (another expense!) into what were obviously bags filled with textbooks and packed lunches. Despite the confidence we’d launched into the mission with, both of us left feeling a little like chastised schoolchildren.

We emerged out onto the street blinking and a little disoriented, like coming out of the cinema and finding it’s still light out.

“Should we?-”

“- go home?”

The question hung in the air. The only thing to do after buying a toy was to test that toy out, but now that the time had come the wind had gone out of our sails. I already felt disappointed, liked I’d wasted all my money on nothing.

At home, I took the dildo out of its box and inspected it. Thin, yet scarily veined, clear pink silicone with glitter speckling the sides for some particular reason. The box boasted three speeds! I found myself laughing at the procedure of it all - set up the bed, make the cushions comfortable, maybe light a stick of incense. Put the batteries in, sanitise the toy, crack open the laptop, browse for something interesting, store some mental images in case I felt creative. I was nervous, like preparing for my perfect first time, except this time it was just me, my dildo and the promise on the other side was my categorisation as grown ass, powerful, self-actualised woman.

My phone buzzed just as I got comfortable. A text appeared on my screen from my friend that read two words -

“fuck yeah”.

The One That Ends in a Happily Ever After - Written by Kay Bellam

My first vibrator was the result of years of sexual frustration, and somewhat weirdly, hard work in school. I was seventeen, and had been repeatedly dipping my toes in and out of sexual freedom in a somewhat frustrated manner; I was the only person I knew who hadn’t had an orgasm yet - most likely the result of my short attention span - and somehow, also had a boyfriend.

He was supportive and incredibly patient with me, but I had warned him from the get-go not to expect anything orgasm-related from me, as I had barely figured that out myself. It wasn’t that my hands (or his, for that matter) didn’t feel good, it’s just that it didn’t hit any particular satisfying spot, and I ended up getting fed up pretty quickly, which meant that most “sessions” concluded with me feeling frustrated and unfulfilled; and this slowly began to reduce my chances of trying at all.

So, what else was there to do than to try something different! Armed with two ten pound Amazon vouchers I got from my college as a reward for being a good student (which felt somewhat dirty, knowing that I was using my school’s money to buy sex toys), I bought myself the cheapest, most appealing-looking “body massager” I could find. “She” was a B#19.99 silicone g-spot vibrator and arrived quickly at the post office down the road from my house, as I was terrified of my mother opening my post or pestering me to see what I’d ordered. It was for this reason that I also ordered the vibe at around Christmas time, so I could sneakily order things without arousing much suspicion. I believe the message I attached to it on the Amazon website was ‘to Kay, enjoy this girl, you’ve earned it x love, Kay’, which came printed out on the box’s label, to my horror. I stuffed it in my backpack, walked home, and then ripped the cardboard up into shreds so the label was illegible.

The name that was bestowed upon her (after consulting my friends) was Sexarella. Unboxing it was some weird, new thrill. I was an Adult now, with an Adult Sex Toy for Sex-Having Adults. Only people who were allowed into the sexy bit in Ann Summers could get these, and yet here I was. It somehow felt illegal, but in an exciting way, like a fun crime. My first thought was how surprisingly soft silicone was, and my second was that it was a little louder than anticipated, and many more settings than I ever thought I would need. I hid it under my pillow as it charged from the USport in my laptop, and proceeded to watch in horror as my mother came into my room and lay on top of the same pillow as she had a conversation with me. Eventually, I managed to hide Sexarella in a box at the bottom of my wardrobe, hidden behind another box (BBC Sherlock-branded Cluedo), and eagerly awaited the day the house would be empty.

Eventually, that day came, and so did I, for the first time. It was alarmingly scary, mostly because I thought I peed myself, but also because the sensation was so unknown and new to me. My boyfriend was in work, so was unavailable for any sexual material, but I was given his enthusiastic support, and ended up putting on Hozier to ‘set the mood’, which ended up doing absolutely nothing for me.

I remember an intense rush of feeling going through my body, and then bursting into open-mouthed, hyperventilating, uncontrollable sobs for ten minutes straight, lying naked from the waist down on my bed. After calming myself down and squirreling away what would later become known as my ‘sex box’, I resolved to never embarrass myself like that again. Even if it was to an empty room. And, like all fairy tales end, Sexarella and I lived happily ever after, and I haven’t had any post-orgasm sobbing fits since, which would probably would have been a bit awkward for everyone involved.

The One After the Party – Written by Ana Bolena

I was 22 and ended in a bachelorette party that wasn’t even a friend of mine. It was the most fun party of my twenties, I think.

At one point a woman that looked like Santa (she didn’t have a beard and big belly but did have a huge bag of goodies!), came into the room and started organizing a big table with clothes. Then she started unpacking the bag: there were dozens of vibrators, dildos, small, big, huge (as in where-do-I-put-that-without-hurting-myself haha). This woman gathered us all around the table and started talking about vibrators, pleasure and all the pleasurable goodies a vibrator comes with. As if we were in a Black Friday of dildos, my friend and I entered in some kind of horny frenzy and bought the equivalent of a student loan worth in vibrators.

I got home with “my precious” and started going at it. Funny thing is, after I tried them all, and I mean... I tried them all, I ended up in love with the short, small pink one...It was a multi-petal flower with a small little dickie and just one vibration pattern (ah, the vintage toys!) I have been looking for that vibrator since then. Nothing like it. The little petals were like tongues, there were 8 petals!!! 8 tongues!!! No wonder why I almost asked it, after a massive orgasm, if it wanted to be my boyfriend. I was ready to go monogamist for it but when we were in the top of our romance it failed, and I had to end our torrid romance. I still remember it as a great lover. One of the best of my horny twenties' life.

Still waiting to make the first move?

If you’re sure how to use one, don’t worry! We recommend learning how to use a bullet vibrator first.

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