Pick up a vibrating ring that slips around his shaft, and use it tonight.

"I think this could be like a gateway drug," said D. as we walked into the drugstore a few days ago.

I looked at him puzzled.

"First it's a little vibrating ring that you pick up in Duane Reade. Then it's bunny rabbits."

Awww, D. was having vibrator envy. I assured him that he didn't have to worry about competition because nothing beats a good old-fashioned, non-battery operated penis. (What I didn't tell him: I had a sneaking suspicion that a battery-operated device combined with a good old-fashioned penis might win the competition.)

We purchased our new toy. It cost $13, $15 if you count the gum I purchased along with it because I suddenly turned into my 14-year old self (the girl who was embarrassed to buy tampons) and didn't want to be seen purchasing just a vibrating ring. The gum clearly made it much better. Right.

"I don't need a bag, " I told the cashier. Always thinking about the environment, even when I'm thinking about D.'s soon-to-be-buzzing shaft.

"Just a garbage-sized bag to wear on my—"

D. started to joke.

"Oooookay!", I interrupted and pulled him out of the store.

I'll skip over the subway ride home in which we made just about every "ring" pun you could think of. The highlight was probably D. doing the "Single Ladies" dance in his seat and singing, "If you like it then you shoulda put a c*ck ring on it". You get the idea.

Later, when we were naked in bed, things stopped being so funny. Dun dun dun. I know, that sounded so dramatic. But it did catch me off guard...

D. couldn't keep it up. He had a "chubby" throughout all of the foreplay, but never got "rock hard". These are all his phrases by the way. And then once he put the ring around his...posey (sorry, it just sounded so right), he went soft.

He tried to enter me a few times, but...uh, yeah so not happening. I could tell it was getting him stressed out. He was flustered and just kept trying and trying even though it clearly was a no-go. I pushed him down on the bed and went down on him for a minute, but it was as if his junk had taken an Ambien.

"It's this weird contraption!" he said. "It just looks so weird!"

And indeed it did. Very robotic. Not enough to throw me off my game, but then again, it wasn't my penis.

I continued to go down on him, but got nothing. So we decided to take a break. D. pleasured me manually—something that usually gets him very hard very quickly. Nada. Even though I turned up the volume and maybe exaggerated the sounds a teensy bit.

I could tell he was feeling really stressed about it so we just stopped completely.

And here's the thing, ladies. This isn't the first time it's happened. D. and I were hooking up a few days earlier and D. was one big Mister Softee. He says he got stressed because of where we were (a bathroom at a house party, and there was a guy banging on the door telling us to hurry up). Fair enough. I can see why that would make it hard to get...well, hard. But twice in one week was slightly worrisome. Or is it? Am I overreacting? They say it's not a trend until it happens three times. So until then I'll try not to think about it.

Anyway, the next day I was determined to make it work. (I don't think Tim Gunn's words have ever been used in this type of situation, but it fits!) I made sure there were no distractions in the room, lit a candle, dimmed the lights, and then I teased D. big time. I didn't want to go right for the bull's eye and make him feel bad if he couldn't go from six to noon. So I started with his nipples. I licked them, sucked on them, then gently bit them. I sneaked a peek down below and saw that we had lift-off so I slowly worked my way down, first kissing his stomach, then his cut lines, then his thighs, then his balls, and finally taking him in my mouth. He got to 100 percent in just a few seconds, but I didn't stop because I knew that going to get the apparatus (sounds so sexy, right?) and putting it on had the potential to kill his boner. And I wanted him to be almost on the edge of climax when we had to pause.

I waited until I heard his breathing get ragged and he was saying my name every few seconds. Ha, it's like monitoring contractions. "They're 15 seconds apart! It's go time with the vibrating ring!"

Then I reached for the ring, handed it to D., and held my breath.

He took it from me. Stayed hard. Stretched the ring part (yes, it's stretchy). Stayed hard. Placed it at the base of his shaft. Stayed hard.

D. pushed my legs apart, kneeled in front of me, and pushed in. Then he literally growled. I'm not kidding. He grabbed my wrists, pinned them above my head, and began to thrust.

I think that's what the call a comeback, folks.

After a few minutes of missionary, he flipped me over so I was on top and that's when he turned on the buzzy toy. (There's a little switch on the side.) I was shocked at how strong the vibrations were. Shocked. Ladies, who have tried it—were you surprised at its strength too? It made his whole package shake!

The sensation was strange at first. Not pleasurable really. When the little nub on the ring connected with my clitoris it felt good, but in a dull way. Not anything that would send me over the edge, like I was expecting.

D. kept trying to reposition it, but maybe my clitoris is located in a slightly different spot than the average woman's because we just couldn't get it to work well. We sort of gave up on that and just resumed normal sexing, which was just fine with me. D. finished shortly after. Then he polished me off manually. And I didn't even have to lie—his body beats a vibrator any day.