I was tired. Stressed. Annoyed.
My shoulders were hunched. My head hurt.
The dog annoyed me. My email annoyed me. Finding new ways to say “insurance” was really fucking annoying.
I still needed a shower and to brush my hair. Instead I pulled out a new toy (received in exchange for an honest review).
Strange looking thing. Long, purple, a little thin, and the tip (looking just like the glans of a cock) was bent. It’s a g-spot massager.
“Let’s do this.”
I really needed a shower. I smelled like old sex and coffee. I didn’t care. This was more important.
Towel down (because you never know). Pillow propped. Toy charged.
I turned it on and it started at the highest setting – the first of ten settings. Seemed as good a place to start as any.
On the bed, naked, legs spread, I did what I always do. I ran it over my slit, making my body relax, hoping for an orgasm. My muscles softened. My knees fell back further.
I pressed the funnily bent tip against my body, pushing it deep in my body. Nice. I changed the angle just a little. Oh fuck yes. There’s my g-spot.
My head fell back. I let the sensations build. It felt good but it wasn’t going to be enough. I switched the settings finally hitting a rolling pulse. I jiggled the toy against my g-spot. One small clench, followed by another. I arched my back as my heels dug in.
A small orgasm is better than nothing, but I know me. A good g-spot orgasm was going to take a looooong time. It was time for clit action.
I pulled the toy out. It was shiny in the light, coated in cream. Setting the length of the shaft against my pussy, I moved it around, looking for the right spot.
The tip. It’s all about the tip. Not surprising, when John Brownstone runs his cock over my pussy and clit, I explode in wet gushy orgasms.
It happened here, too. On the highest setting, the head of the massager pressed firmly into my clit, the vibrations pulled a wet, juicy orgasm out of my body. I heard the familiar gurgling sound of juice pouring from my pussy. Thank goodness for the towel.
Familiar tingling began in the soles of my feet and rushed up my inner thighs. More orgasms were coming. Would I stop them? Force them? My hips bucked forward as the next one hit. My thighs closed over the massager, pressing it further into my flesh. Forced it is.
I bucked and yelped. Waves of pleasurable pain rolled through me. More fluid splashed my thighs and the towel. I refused to release myself from the tension roiling between my legs.
Every muscle in my body clenched. I quivered, shuddered, and trembled with the force of the sensations.
After I caught my breath, I tried my g-spot again. It felt good. Given enough time, an orgasm would likely happen. But nothing like that gushes I’d just experienced.
It was enough. I wasn’t annoyed anymore.
The Iris by Lyps looks strange to me. Long, thinner than I’m used to, and that tip is killing me. But in the best way. The tip hit my g-spot just right once it was in my body when I angle the toy just right. But if a toy vibrates, I don’t care what it’s for, I’m going to try it out on my clit. This was no exception.
If g-spot orgasms are a thing for you, this one could do good things. If you’re like me and more of a clitoral orgasm girl, you can still achieve them, but it takes a bit of work to find the right angle and the right spot. The settings are all strong but because they’re meant for your g-spot, it might not hit your clit the same way.
Iris is rechargeable and has just the one button which was easy to access no matter how I used it. Because g-spot orgasms take so much work for me – LOTS of stimulation (nipples, hair pulling, the works) plus steady sensation against my g-spot, this toy might be better used in kinky play with John Brownstone. But to relieve a little tension and get a big orgasm, it did the job. For the record, that was the first gushing orgasm I’ve had in a while. No complaints there.
Interested in Iris?