A grilled cheese
Picture it and your pleasure centre will light up straight away. A warm knife crackles through charred surfaces. The ooze doesn’t rush. It takes its time.
Warm chocolate at the bottom of your handbag
Instantly heady when you enter its orbit. It lives at the back of your throat, in the receptors of your brain. The husky sweetness envelops everything around it.
A crown of wax dripping down a church candle
Dark corners; gilded paintings. A glut of money and unsatisfied desire, of skin keeping memories. Maybe a former Catholic schoolgirl isn’t the person to talk to about this.
An 80s jam about lovers surrendering to each other in a nuclear disaster
When the synths are instantly warm and the lyrics are wedding-playlist corny, but you just want to hit the hors d’oeuvres and dance anyway.
Melt. It’s a sensual word that fits an unabashedly sensual activity.
So when We-Vibe turned out another high-tech pleasureccoutrement (copyright pending) that deploys suction instead of vibration, the cynic in me took pause. Yes, we’re all aware of the power of suction. But, is it as satisfying as the pressure and push of a traditional vibrator? And does it engage the senses in the same way?
It’s certainly a different feeling for a clitoral vibe—one that delicate types will appreciate, but that still ramps up when you’re craving more. Suction in a sex toy, it turns out, is less like a vacuum cleaner and more like air being whipped in a concentrated space. Like toasting sugar in a pan, or choosing the right avocado, the Melt is one minute not much, and the next minute everything. When you’ve found the balance, revel in it—it’s the same effect as teaching a man to fish. Take your time, grip the base (the toy is shaped like a hollow handle to nowhere), and find the x that marks your spot.
With no remote control, it’s just as easy to use your hands—if a bit more predictable, which is no bad thing. Using the magic of bluetooth to pair with the app, you can (like with most of We-Vibe’s other offerings) set your own patterns, intensity, speed. I’ve raved about this feature before (see the Moxie), because who doesn’t love taking matters into their own hands—or honouring a partner with the responsibility? It’s a great way to not just get what you want, but communicate what you want. When a lover sees where the spikes are, when to slow down, when to level out, it’s an opportunity to program them and the toy at the same time.
Ninety minutes of charge time buys you two hours of play, and it’s difficult to stop— because the Melt doesn’t require much physical contact, there’s less of a risk of feeling overworked. Its subtlety is pleasingly deceptive.
But silent and deadly it isn’t. If I have a criticism of the Melt, it’s the volume—it ekes up as the intensity does. As such, I’d recommend some mood music in the background. That small thing aside, though (and I do consider it small), Melt is a toy worth staying in for.
Tabitha Laffernis is a writer based in Sydney, Australia. Her short fiction has been published in Flapperhouse, Hobart, and Gigantic Sequins. You can keep tabs on her work here.