Usually when I do a post about my latest review, I have a swathe of saucy photographs to go with it. Me opening the box the toy is nestled in, me enthusiastically testing the toy, and, with any luck, me orgasming with the toy. It’s fun for y’all to read, and it adds a little something to the review process for me, too!
It met expectations. What do I expect? Well, I expect pretty packaging–and the Akmeo does have that. No trampy bottle-blondes with scary genitals on this box; instead there was a life-size picture of the vibrator in question, a ‘Luxuria’ tattoo-type illustration, and the name of the company and toy. It looked classy. Inside was a slide-out case with the toy nestled within, all looking good enough to eat.
Which was unsurprising, as the Akmeo I received was ‘candy floss’ colour. If you’re a fan of pink, then this is a good toy for you–unfortunately, it’s not my colour at all, and to my eyes seemed more like a skinned rabbit than flossy candy. Still, sex toy receivers can’t always be choosers.
I also, these days, expect some decent instructions with my toys. Either on the packaging or wrapped with the toy itself, I like something that tells me the material, the battery requirements, and how to use the thing. Sure, it may be simple enough to figure out, but I like having something to read. I’m strange like that. The Akmeo? Well. The box informed me that the toy was made in Germany; offered ‘certified physical compatibility’ of the materials used (but not what the materials actually were: it’s made of thermoplastic rubber); and that it was sold as a novelty only. The tag attached to the vibrator added a little more: that a 5 year warranty was possible; and that it was waterproof, easy to take care of, and quiet.
So what was missing? Well, looking at the toy, I figured out for myself where to put the batteries (although it was a guess as to which way around they went), and I had to experiment to figure out how to work the easy-touch controls. How many speeds? How to turn it off? How to work through the options? That was all trial and error, and I felt it was a damned shame that they had to made me work so hard–I just wanted to turn it on and orgasm.
A little lube, fresh batteries, ramping the vibrations up to maximum and rubbing on my clitoris with what I thought of as the ‘dolphin nose’–yes, this toy got me off just fine. A little more lube, some insertion, and my G-spot liked it well enough too. Having it under the covers meant I didn’t need to see the colour (and I ignored those easy-touch controls and kept the vibes on maximum). So I orgasmed. Well and good.
After use, however, I became more unsure about this material. I’ve been spoiled by silicone and glass and stainless steel (oh, woes). When I went to put it away, I wondered if I had used it a little hard on my clit, as the rubber at the end of the nose had become unsmooth, leaving a small indentation and ruched material.
So yes. The Akmeo is okay. It stands on my bedside table (yes, it’s a toy that actually stands up), and I even use it once in a while. But it’s not my favourite vibrator, or even one of my top five (for all that it’s a SinFive). It gets me off. But it’s not very exciting.
How the Akemo looks on my bedside table (yes, this is one of those rare toys that actually stands up). I do appreciate how it has a ‘dolphin nose’.
Verdict: The packaging is more exciting than the toy.
And here are the specs:
Name: Akmeo by Sinfive
Size: 6 1/2 inches insertable, 1 1/2 inches diameter
Made in: Germany
Worthy of note: Material seems to … shift, if used hard.
Places it feels good: Um.