How are lesbian couples using sex toys to deepen intimacy? This honest, loving reflection explores queer pleasure beyond the stereotypes—with warmth and truth.
When my partner and I first moved in together, we bought a second bookshelf, two sets of sheets—and, somewhat awkwardly, our first sex toy.
It wasn’t a grand moment. No sexy music. No champagne. Just two women staring at a website, wondering: Is this… normal?
Turns out, it’s not just normal. It’s beautifully normal.
Because queer couples—especially women—are rewriting the rules of sex. And in many ways, we always have been.
If you search "lesbian sex toys" online, you're bound to find a chaotic mix of rainbow-colored nonsense, poorly drawn diagrams, and a lot of assumptions. Most of it made by people who don’t actually know what it’s like to build intimacy with another woman.
But behind closed doors, in bedrooms filled with trust and laughter and curiosity, queer women are exploring pleasure in ways that are deeply connected—and often, quietly revolutionary.
I spoke with several couples before writing this. Here’s what they shared.
"We don’t use toys because we need them. We use them because they open up new ways to communicate."
— Rina, 28, San Diego
Rina and her wife started experimenting with wearable vibes during the pandemic. “It was less about chasing orgasms and more about play. I loved the feeling of handing her the remote and just… letting go,” she said.
That phrase stuck with me: letting go.
So many queer women carry baggage—of shame, invisibility, myths about what “real sex” is supposed to look like.
But in a healthy, loving relationship, toys aren’t a replacement. They’re an extension of that love. A way to say, I see you, I want you, let’s explore together.
One product I’ve heard multiple couples rave about is this wearable remote-control toy—designed to sit discreetly against the body, responding to wireless control. It’s whisper-quiet, ultra-slim, and made of body-safe silicone, which makes it ideal for partnered teasing—whether during foreplay or under clothes during a lazy morning together.
One product I’ve heard multiple couples rave about is this wearable remote-control toy—designed to sit discreetly against the body, responding to wireless control. It’s whisper-quiet, ultra-slim, and made of body-safe silicone, which makes it ideal for partnered teasing—whether during foreplay or under clothes during a lazy morning together.
What makes it stand out? It’s not aggressive or overly “gadgety”—it just blends into your moment, enhancing without distracting. As one reviewer put it:
“It made us laugh, whisper, pause, and touch more. That’s all we wanted.”
"Sometimes it’s not even sexual. It’s about care."
— Naomi, 34, Berlin
Naomi and her partner use a gentle wand massager on each other’s backs, shoulders, legs—before anything else happens. “It helps me feel present. Like she’s holding space for me.”
That’s the thing about queer sex—it doesn’t follow a script. There’s no “first base, second base” checklist. For many lesbian couples, intimacy begins long before the bedroom.
So when toys enter the picture, it’s often not about performance. It’s about tenderness. Trust. Slowness.
There’s also a growing sense of empowerment in claiming pleasure as queer women—not as a niche or an afterthought.
When I asked Tasha, a 31-year-old artist in Montreal, how she felt the first time she and her partner used a strap-on, she said something that gave me chills:
“It wasn’t about pretending to be straight. It was about taking control of our own story. Our own bodies. Our own version of intimacy.”
So, do queer women use sex toys?
Yes. But more importantly—they use them on their own terms.
With giggles. With eye contact. With late-night whispers and lazy Sunday mornings. With love. With a kind of freedom that doesn’t fit into boxes.
Because at the end of the day, queer sex isn’t about what’s missing.
It’s about what’s possible when we stop trying to fit in—and start listening to what our bodies, and our hearts, are asking for.
And sometimes, that means reaching into a drawer… and saying,
"Wanna try something new?"