My vibrator caught fire
I was tired of constanly having to play with the wire to get it to run. After months of use the wires had become lose or something. I was too embarassed to ask my husband to fix it, so I attempted to repair the lose wire myself.
After taking it apart I saw that one of the wires was almost pulled right out of the welded part. I had watched my computer-tech husband solder in the past, so I tried it myself. I removed the wires, cleaned the surfaces and heated up the soldering iron. After a few practice tries on a piece of wood, I was able to solder the wires back on. I re-assembled the vibrator, turned it on and it worked. I was so proud of myself although I really couldn’t boast about it.
So last night the hubby heads to poker night. I head to bed with B.O.B.(Battery Operated Boyfriend). I put on one of my favorite fake lesbian porno’s and begin to masterbate. Minutes later and I’m heating up, enjoying the lesbo-tongue action taking place on the screen.
As I am buzzing around my nether region, I feel the silver bullet getting warmer than I remember it ever getting. Thinking that perhaps I was overly stimulated thanks to my successful soldering-repair experience, I put it out of my mind.
As I think back to last night, I realize it was about 30 seconds after thinking that the vibrator was warm, that it got very hot to the point that I couldn’t hold it against even my lips, let alone my clit. I brought it closer to inspect it and realized that I actually might burn myself if I didn’t drop it.
So I did. There it sat on the blanket, buzzing. I checked the controls to see if maybe I had maxed out the speed. Usually medium was enough to satisfy me, anymore and my teeth would rattle. I’m sliding the speed switch up and down when I smell something burning. An electrical smell.
The silver bullet vibrator is smoking. In my panic to switch it off I slide it all tyhe way to maximum speed. Before I could turn it off the vibrator revved right up and stopped. A ribbon of smoke rose up from the bullet itself. I slapped it off the bed and on to the floor. I saw a little tiny flame and then poof, more smoke and a even more of that real nasty burnt smell.
As I sat there shocked, hundreds of thoughts raced through mymind. What if it was inside me and blew up? What would I tell the doctors. Imagine the pain! What would I tell Simon?
After I composed myself, I grabbed the vibrator and tossed it out. I still haven’t bought another one, but I have a new dildo. It looks real and it doesn’t smoke.
I don’t even have to tell you why this is a story I can not tell right?
p.s. Too bad these things don’t come with an extended warranty