Size: 3.75” by 1.125”
Shape: A girthy endive
Sound: Sweet nothings whispered by a virginal 13-year-old boy
Strength: Your fleeting crush on Billie Joe Armstrong
Satisfaction: Can’t get none
Pairs with: Half a flat bottle of Sprite and two shots of gin that you stole from your parents’ liquor cabinet
The Tantus Kiss is the color of pink Laffy Taffy and it looks like something a Polly Pocket would wear. If that doesn’t sound sexy to you, you must’ve never been a prepubescent weirdo who owned the Polly Pocket Club Groove Par-tay Bus, which opened up and converted into a SEXY NIGHTCLUB complete with an upstairs MAKEOUT COUCH (!!) and smoothie bar (??) and provided hours of hot and heavy Polly Pocket-on-Polly Pocket makeout sessions. Make out! Make out! And then they all put on different outfits.
Much like that time you made out with your middle school boyfriend in a movie theatre for 45 minutes with your long-suffering BFF sitting next to you (Lucia, I love you, and I’m sorry), the Tantus Kiss gets you kinda vaguely aroused, and then that’s all. It’s a tease, but like, not in the fun, hot way. More in the “are you gonna touch my boob or aren’t you, you dumb sk8r boy” kind of way. The little pointed end of the vibrator—described by Tantus as its “long flickering tongue”—feels less like some solid cunnilingus and more like erratic scratching by a 14-year-old boy who learned about fingering via osmosis maybe a week ago.
The Kiss is a silicone, waterproof, single-speed kind of deal. It takes batteries. I really wanted to like it—it comes in funky packaging, it’s a cute color, it’s approachable without seeming too basic. But it just didn’t do it for me. The vibrations got old pretty quick, with no way to vary the speed or up its intensity; there aren’t many angles at which to use the vibe. The tip would probably fit nicely in somebody’s bumhole, though, or any other small bodily orifice (on second thought, not sure if the base is flared enough for bumhole action – standby!).
This is a vibe that’ll ask you if you came. It’ll leave you with wet panties and a sense of letdown. “Was that it?” you’ll ask, as you get in your Par-tay Bus and flee the scene.
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