Sex toy blogger. Photo of a giant, black dildo next to a tiny white dildo.

Who am I and why do I write about sex toys?

I’m sure if you don’t know me personally and have stumbled across this blog, you may have asked that question. After all, I don’t have an Only Fans, I don’t post videos of myself fondling sex toys on social media and I’m not a “certified sexologist” with my own podcast and YouTube channel.

YET! A girl can dream!

But I am a writer and I have a lot of experience with sex toys. And, the experience I’ve gained likely came while you were in diapers or still a twinkle in dad’s eye.

Okay Boomer.

Technically I’m not a Boomer, nor were my first sex toys carved from stone. However, I was the proud owner of an original Jack Rabbit. Well, 3 actually, as I kept burning the motors out of them.

It had a cord that was attached to the remote and it was crafted of the finest jelly material.

Sex toy blogger. Photo of the original Jack Rabbit vibrator.
The Original Jack Rabbit

Now that I think of it, I’m shocked my vagina didn’t shrivel and fall off due to all of the toxic materials I had played with.

Anyway, I don’t talk about sex toys because I want people to send me free stuff. Okay, sure, that would be nice, but that’s not why I write about sex toys. I don’t have any affiliate links nor do I have my own line of products. This isn’t my business and I don’t expect to get rich every time someone clicks one of my links.

 I write about sex toys because I believe with my whole heart that they can make a positive impact on your sex life.

I sold sex toys long before they were mainstream. It was well before you could walk into a big box store and pick up a vibrator or a cock ring. I started selling sex toys long before there were lingerie/sex shops.

Oh, there were sex shops. But these were the dingy little buildings with flashing, neon XXX signs located on dark street corners where men came in and out with ball caps pulled over their faces so no one would know they just dropped $20 on a peep show and the latest edition of Hustler magazine.

When I began my career in sex toys, there weren’t late night commercials for Adam and Eve, as a matter of fact, the internet was just born and most people didn’t have computers.

The way we got sex toys was through a home party. Yes, just like the old Tupperware parties – lots of plastic but no burping lids (ask your parents) – I went into people’s homes, set up a table and sold sex toys.

And it’s probably not what you’re picturing in your head.

I recall showing up at the front doors of ladies whom had booked a couple’s party. Generally, the husband would answer, look me up and down with disappointment and invite me in. And I would always introduce myself and say,

“Sorry to disappoint you but my leather teddy and thigh high boots are at the cleaners. But I did bring my whips!”

For some reason, they always laughed uncomfortably, as if they got caught thinking the “sex toy lady” was going to show up looking like a lady of the evening or the Dominatrix of their naughty little dreams.

I usually wore slacks, blouses and a nice jacket. I was there to help them spice up their sex life and not to turn tricks.

So, I would set up my table and group my lotions and potions together – you know, nipple cream, Happy Penis and Kama Sutra Pleasure Balm (which used to be perfect for numbing the gag reflex. But they’ve changed the formula) Next to that would be dildos, vibrators, whips, nipple clamps, anal beads and after-sex towels.

Then, once the guests arrived, I handed out order forms, pencils and tiny little penis erasers which each guest could take home. Sometimes, they would be glow-in-the-dark, tiny penises.

I started the show and with each item, I would pass it around the room so the product could be touched, tasted, felt and “experienced”. I would explain what the item did, where you put it and how it could enhance sex.

Sex toy blogger. Photo of original anal beads on a string.
Original Anal Beads

By the end of the show, everyone was giggling, maybe a little tipsy and closely inspecting the anal beads still in awe that 1- they were made for men and 2- if used properly, the male’s backside would pull each bead in on its own.

I’ll write a blog about that later.

Then I would retreat to whatever private little room or corner of the house the hostess had set aside for me, as that was a requirement of hosting the party. You see, nobody knew what anyone at the party ordered, that is, unless they decided to share. And most ladies didn’t. I took all orders in private.

And the orders were delivered in non-descript, brown paper bags, tightly sealed with the customer’s name on the outside. This was a good thing. I swear if Miss Smithfield knew her grandmother ordered an 8 inch, girthy, cyber-skin dong, she’d never be able to smile across the Thanksgiving table again.

I loved what I did. I traveled all over the state, selling sex toys to women of all ages, races and sexual orientation. It was always a party atmosphere, although they usually started out with giggles and red faces.

THIS was how we bought sex toys back in the day.

And it was an absolute blast.

But selling sex toys wasn’t the thing I aspired to be since I was a little girl. Nope. I always wanted to be a writer. And when the day came that hauling a 50-pound rolling duffle of sex toys, a 6-foot-long table and a large tote bag of vibrators got to be too much, I “retired” and started wondering how I could continue to help people with their sexual selves.

And one day, a friend emailed me about a job – a writing job – for a new website called “Club Mom.” And they wanted a mom to write about love and sex!

It was perfect for me!

I wrote a 300-word blog about being a mom and a sexual being (not an easy thing to do in tandem), putting a humorous twist on it and sure enough, I got the job. I worked for the site for a couple of years, gained a great deal of writing experience and a handful of fans. Then they changed the site, as the internet was pretty new back then and I just started blogging for my friends.

After many years of writing for my friends, I decided to throw my life into freelance writing full time. Okay, truth be told, I split from my narcissistic husband of 22 years and needed to make a living.

In the beginning I wrote about just about anything you could think of – from barndominiums to home improvement – and I would occasionally land a gig writing about sex, sexual products or sex toys…. The subject to which my heart – and twisted little nymphomaniacal brain – was attached.

And here I am.

So, if you have ever asked, “Who is she and what makes her an expert on sex toys?”, there’s your answer.

That and I have 40 years’ experience having sex myself, alone and with others and yes, I still use sex toys, only not with the ferocious and Jack-Rabbit-motor-burning sexual fire I once had.

But hey, I can get you there.

It’s me!

I am here to be your mom, your big sister, your BFF and sexual confidant. I am happy to share my stories, teach you everything I know and answer all of your questions. And if I don’t know the answer, I will go out there, research my little buns off and find those answers for you.

Thanks for stopping by and reading this brain explosion. Stay safe, stay sexy and never, ever stop playing!

~Edwina

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