The Fukuoku 9000!

Saturday, March 24, 2007

Yesterday I brought home a new sex toy with a name like Harry Potter's high-tech broom, the cheerful translucence of a purple gummi bear and the retro-geek chic of an old-time office rubber fingertip. The Fukuoku 9000 made me smile, even before I opened the package.
I did consider unwrapping it in the company of my boyfriend. Novelty usually infuses lovemaking with new energy, and this little purple thing looks novel. "Anywhere your finger goes," said the package. Anywhere. I imagined several scenarios, carefully rehearsing a shared adventure with the maiden voyage of the little finger vibrator in my mind.
However, my resolve to make the initial experience a twosome vanished as soon as I got it alone behind a closed door. I had to rip the package open and examine the contents. The featherweight 9000 slides onto any finger. It's small and smooth, but can be covered with any of three textured slip-on covers. Flat disk batteries like those a watch or camera uses are included. The package also contained a small black storage pouch. (If you wanted to replace it with something in real leather or a favorite fabric, you'd be looking for a case the size of a large bar of soap.) This thing is exquisitely portable even with its spare batteries and covers.


How good is this toy? I can only compare it to the others I've known. My very first vibrator, a device the color of Barbie flesh and shaped only vaguely like the one thing Ken could never give her, ate batteries at a furious pace. It lacked wit, grace and oomph. Next I acquired a first-generation Hitachi Magic Wand, the machine which was aptly applauded for delivering "a screaming clitoral hard-on in less than a minute."
The Wand was powerful enough to give me last-minute quivering orgasms through the fabric of heavy jeans just before I left my apartment for the evening. And since it didn't run on batteries, it didn't become increasingly flaccid in its intensity as Ken's pink plastic phallus had. However I had to redo my bedroom in orange extension cord to avoid withdrawing the plug from the wall socket with an untimely squirm. It was also loud. I concocted fantasies of riding a motorcycle up a steep road. Going uphill with him sitting behind me on the bike, reaching around to unzip me with hands so sure they could have been my own. Rounding a corner, the roaring Hitachi hog drowning my own rising vocalizations. The thrills of those moonlight rides were spiced by the fear that my downstairs neighbors would hear that massive power tool whisking me over the summit.
My new fingertip toy is on an entirely different scale. I fumbled to find the tiny power switch, and the 9000 sprang to life. It's about as loud as a happy mosquito. Turn on some music, wrap yourself in a light blanket and you could probably use this anywhere with relatively little chance of involuntary detection. I gathered my patience and shifted into leisurely self-seduction. I used to laugh about the idea that vibrators could ruin a woman, rendering mere mortal non-bionic sex useless. I'd now have to admit that for me it may be true -- not for battery-free human contact -- but for subtler, gentler vibrators. Sitting here on the sofa in the early afternoon with a new Fukuoku 9000, I do find myself craving the other one, rather than loving the one I'm with.
It may not be fair to compare this artful miniature with the Wand, but I can only judge based on what I know. The Fukuoku 9000 is quiet, light and gentle. It claims to pulse 9,000 times a second, and I am sure it makes a lot of people happy. I won't give up my noisy old quickie-factory for this, but I'll make the 9000 an alternative for times when a lighter touch and a slower pace will do. If you are usually satisfied with your own adept fingers and want to lightly animate their caress, this may become a prized toy. Besides, it's cute.