Meet the Cowgirl. The Cowgirl is a giant vibrator. In fact, it’s a vibrator so large it technically counts as furniture. A huge, saddle-shaped, sit-upon vibrator with power settings that range from ‘gentle crack massage’ to ‘is that a new crack in the ceiling plaster?!’ I squealed, I moaned, and I rode the fuck out of this thing. Only in my wildest sex dreams have I been so relentlessly fucked by a machine. Let’s get stuck into this…
My partner was excited by the Cowgirl because he’s seen them in porn – either ones like this or Sybian – with women restrained on top of them so they have to sit still, biting their lips and grinning and moaning with joy at the climax that’s hauled from them as they buck and writhe and jiggle. The idea of watching me sitting on it and being rumbled to a squealing climax got his dick harder than it’s been since he first tried Atom Plus. And as for me? I just really like power. I like the idea of a sex toy that’s so big and hefty and loud and unapologetic – so obviously a sex toy – that there is no disguising it. A sex toy that forces you to leave subtlety at the door and embrace excess instead.
A sex toy, in short, that Does Not Fuck About.
I won’t lie, it’s pricey: it comes in at just over £1,500 (or $2,000). It’s pricey because it’s fucking massive and powerful and intense, and unless you’re filthy rich, it’s not the kind of thing you buy on a whim. But it’s absolutely the kind of thing a girl like me will grab with both hands if she’s offered the chance to try it.
Like all my greatest adventures, this one began in the pub, where I met the lovely people from SheVibe when they happened to be in town. They mentioned the Cowgirl, my eyes nearly popped out of my head, and I said I’d always wanted to try one. A few weeks later, this absolute beast arrived, and my partner and I literally danced around the living room in delight.
Next we did what any reasonable people would do, and blocked out an entire evening in our diary to get to grips with it. And what we learned is that describing this as a ‘vibrator that you sit on’ doesn’t come close to cutting it: this is a machine that fucks you.
The Cowgirl with dildo attachment, resting on fluidproof sheets
The Cowgirl: a machine that fucks you
The first thing he does is sprawl on the sofa in a dressing gown. Legs spread wide. Displaying his cock to me while he strokes it, in a way that says ‘please me.’ He tells me to take off my knickers, put one of the attachments on the Cowgirl, and ride it while he watches.
“Do you want the controls?” I ask him, because it feels like that sort of evening: one where he takes charge and tells me what to do, and I eagerly do his bidding. He says ‘no’, for now. He wants me to get used to it first – to recognise where I need to sit to place my clit exactly right, to angle my body so I’m feeling the rumble going through all the most sensitive places. It sounds kind of him, but really he’s only doing it to make the torture later more delicious: he needs to understand which settings and angles bring me the most pleasure, so he can keep me balanced on the edge of it while he enjoys the view.
I do as I’m told: I sit. Legs spread, knees on the floor, clit resting against the silicone attachment on top of the machine.
When I turn it on it feels like starting the engine on a motorbike: that thrumming power between your legs that – while strong – is mostly exciting because it promises so much more. The silicone attachment presses tightly against my clit – the way the crotch of my jeans does if I angle myself right when I’m sitting at the back of a bus. It hums gently, begging me to open up the throttle and see what it can do.
I make eye contact with him as he strokes his cock. He looks at me with a face I can’t quite read: is he pleased? Does he want more? Should I put on a bit of a show? I turn up the dial and realise it’s all academic, really – I’m suddenly rendered incapable of showmanship. The machine roars with extra power, the throbbing hum spreads through my thighs and arse, and I double over with a kick of tingling pleasure.
“Take off your top,” he tells me, and I fumble with the fabric – struggling to undo my bra while the machine pulses relentlessly beneath me.
This isn’t just a machine that you sit on: it’s a machine you ride. The throbbing rumble of the vibrations does more than get my attention, it demands active participation. So although I felt faintly ridiculous when I tested it in jeans (riding the Cowgirl like an actual cowgirl, complete with ‘yee haw’s and fake lassooing motions) when I’m actually naked I can’t help but do exactly the same sexy hip rotations, this time with a serious face like I’ve got my eyes on the prize. I buck my hips and lean forward and grind the way I would if I were fucking. I clench my thighs around the thrumming saddle and feel the power reverberating through the whole of my crotch.
When I turn it up to max, and force myself to put my whole weight on it, the power of the vibrations makes my clit hurt and my tits jiggle. He moans appreciatively, and leans forward to pinch my nipples.
Restrain me with your cock
What he wants, I know, is for me to be restrained on the Cowgirl: to be pressed onto it so I can’t move or squirm away when the power is turned up. Luckily, although we don’t have restraints, we do have the next best thing: my eager, submissive compliance.
He stands up, dressing gown open to display his rock-solid cock, and he asks if I’m going to be a good girl for him.
He steps forward, picks up the control unit for the Cowgirl, puts one hand on my head to push me down, then slips his dick into my mouth. He uses his hands, and his cock, to control the height and angle of my head – pushing me backwards, slightly off-balance, to keep me pinned down on the machine as I ride. I can do nothing more than wriggle and suck. Feeling the wetness of my cunt dripping down the insides of my thighs, and drool sliding from the corners of my mouth as he fucks my face good and hard, I am a moaning, anguished mess of sensations and I can’t work out which one I like best.
I am aching to come, but he switches the settings between ‘almost enough’ and ‘just a little too much’ over and over as I gag on his cock and try to resist the temptation to brat out and snatch the controls.
He grips my head in his hands, positioning me perfectly for throatfucking and pinning me down onto the machine which bucks and vibrates beneath me. When I start to choke, he pulls back. Calls me ‘good girl’ and tells me to switch out the attachments. Which is shorthand for ‘I want to watch you get well and truly fucked.’
Thoroughly fucked by a machine
I have two attachments for the Cowgirl. The first, which I’ve been using until now, is a soft silicone cover with a raised nub in the middle and a textured section at one end. It’s designed for grinding: the slim line of silicone that makes it up nestles neatly between the folds of my cunt, and leaning my body allows me to position my clit against it at just the right angle, with just the right pressure.
The next attachment goes inside me. It still has texture at one end, but also a larger bulb which sits proud of the machine, designed to go into your cunt or ass – whichever floats your boat. Angled so it will press against my g-spot, I slide down onto it and gasp. He pushes his cock into my mouth again and croons ‘goooood girrrrl’ – purring just like the machine as he turns the dial up, a few notches past ‘5’ right through to ‘holy fucking shit.’
There are two dials on the machine: one which controls the intensity of vibration, and another which controls the rotation of the raised nub. Essentially: g- or p-spot stimulation, depending on where you stick it. The second dial is controlling a coiled spring inside the dildo which causes it to rotate, while the first is controlling whatever absolute beast of a power-tool sits inside the saddle, vibrating it hard enough that you could measure it on the Richter scale.
But you could learn all this stuff from the Cowgirl product description. I’m not really here for the admin.
What I’m here for is the sexy stuff: the moment when I slid down onto the dildo, simultaneously gagging on his cock and clenching my cunt around the latent power of the machine between my legs. The split second later when he turned up the dial and I felt – momentarily – like I had lost all control. I was no longer grinding or fucking this robotic thing – I was being fucked. Unstoppably. Rhythmically. Relentlessly.
That’s the beauty of the Cowgirl: it is not a tool you use to get off, the way my dildos or vibrators are. It’s a machine that fucks you. The machine has no thoughts or opinions or special sex tricks. No way of knowing where you want it and how hard. It just fucks. Relentlessly. Vigorously. Intensely.
You sit astride it, like a bull: you either get thrown out of the saddle or you ride it till you die. Other toys are things I use, or he uses on me: the Cowgirl is something that I conquer. Clinging on with trembling thighs, moaning through a throatful of dick, and choking down squeals as I tussle with the sheer fucking power of it.
When my arms start to shake too, he turns down the power. Pulls his dick out of my mouth, looks deep into my dazed, tear-streaked face and asks if I’m OK.
I am so OK, I ask him to come sit on the Cowgirl behind me.
“I’m in the mood for a challenge: get your dick inside me too.”
The Cowgirl was provided to me by SheVibe, because they recognised the glint of utter, lustful greed in my eyes when they mentioned it to me in the pub. They didn’t ask me to review it but obviously I couldn’t not write about something this awesome. I’ll be writing about it again because we have many many plans for this beast. If you’d like to buy it from them, you can pick it up for just over £1,500 (or $2,000), and use the discount code GIRLONTHENET for 10% off. I know it’s pricey but it’s fucking epic. And yes, his cock did fit there too.