Early last month, around the same time as lots of blogs, tabloids and discerning toy shops got themselves in a tizz over the unveiling of the Lelo Smart Bead, I was getting giddy over the arrival of something sort of similar but much less jazzy.
The power pack is about five inches long and – apologies for using this word – ergonomically shaped so it fits the user’s hand quite nicely. It’s like being a weather presenter, only in a good way. The Egg itself is just under three inches long, and 1.3 inches wide at its widest point, or 4.1” in circumference.
It’s a horrible shade of purple (puce?), it takes three AA batteries (who ever has three lying around? Two, one, a whole fresh pack maybe, but three?), it’s got ridges that are supposedly for extra stimulation but so far have done little but make it difficult to keep properly clean, and it has TINY buttons.
It also packs one hell of a punch, feels great, and has also provided me with more giggles, intentional and otherwise, than I remember any one thing doing for quite some time.
It’s made of the same smooth hard ABS plastic as the Humdinger. The cable between the control and the Egg is almost a metre long. The Egg itself weighs 70 grams – about the same as a set of love beads, and about as easy to wear while pootling about the house.
Even on the lowest setting it’s a shove-it-under-the-duvet-more-blankets-no-more rattling beast of a toy. Think swarm of angry wasps, and on the patterns, a misfiring moped – even when you’ve inserted it. Throwing a duvet over yourself does nothing to muffle it.
It has three plain vibration settings – gosh, crumbs and YOWSER – and four patterns.
I’ve said before that I’m not a fan of the patterns on most toys. I don’t know whether it’s the Love Egg’s shape, the power, the frequency… but I like these ones. My favourite is the slow build-up, although the Queens of The Stone Age fan in me is tickled in more ways than one by the pattern that mimics the bassline to No One Knows.
And it’s jiggy. I sent a video of it buzzing about and trying to womble its way under my duvet to The Chap. He sent a reply that was mostly exclamation marks before a further, more considered, “certainly looks playful”.
But I am The Shingle Beach, not the Pink Stripy Duvet, so when I headed out to get photos…
I’ve yet to manage to keep it on my clit without pulling a pair of knickers on over it or crossing my legs. Both of these are plenty enjoyable, but clenching my thighs around it dampens the vibrations slightly – or at least, spreads them across my thighs rather than focusing on my clit and vulva, defeating the object somewhat.
Unlike other super-powerful toys I’ve tried, it’s not a bully. That’ll come down to its small size and free-roaming nature – it’s difficult to feel pressured or hammered by something so small and light and jumpy, even when your thighs are holding it firmly in place.
Apparently it’s a great little G-spot toy.
I’m fairly au fait with my G-spot, but the Love Egg has yet to find it.
Is this because I have no need of the Smart Bead’s tightening and toning capabilities?
*falls over laughing*
In any case, the Love Egg sits quite happily in the lower portion of my vagina. It rumbles and chuckles away slightly more quietly, providing delightfully strong vibrations to the sensitive lower walls, front and back – unlike textured dildos and vibrators, which tend to focus on the front wall. It’s not orgasmic – for me anyway – but it stimulates the same sets of muscles in a slightly different and most enjoyable way.
Sometimes, if you need strong external vibrations, they can drown out any internal vibrations you’ve got going on at the same time (just me, then?). It’s one of the reasons I’ve grown increasingly fond of dildos.
Switch this onto the strongest straightforward vibration setting and it’s powerful enough that I was still well aware of it even as I swapped the rechargeable wand for a mains-powered monster. That’s pretty impressive.
It doesn’t bring me to orgasm, but that’s more because I need more directed stimulation – thrusting, in short – and for all the sensation is glorious, a Love Egg is not a dildo.
Retrieving it is, um, faffy.
If it’s done its job properly – which it always has so far – it’s a slippery little bugger to get a grip on, and the ridges don’t help that much. It goes without saying that tugging the cable isn’t wise, no matter how sturdily it appears to be attached (and it is). If the Love Egg ever does find its way to my G-spot, getting it back afterwards may require forceps. In the meantime, your best bet is to find a willing helper.
I like it.
It’s fun, it’s different, gosh it’s got oomph.
Will it become one of my go-to toys? No. It’s too jittery, too faffy, too loud. But for something guaranteed to make me grin at the end of a tough day? Absolutely.
*Actually, since its adventure on the beach, it seems to have quietened down. Also, notably, it hasn’t a mark – not a scratch, a ding, nothing – on it. It’s a tough and well-made little beastie.
Thank you, Lovehoney!