Week Three wasn’t just a vibe - it was a voltage shift. With Le Jardin Secret as my co-conspirator, I explored what it meant to make pleasure a priority, not a performance. A quickie between meetings, a wake-up session before coffee, a deep dive with THC and taboo erotica. The orgasms were great (okay, incredible) -- but the real shift? Realizing how much power I have when I stop waiting for permission and start giving it to myself. This week, I didn’t just masturbate, I practiced self-pleasure like it was a daily ritual - my new religion. And now? I’m high on intention - and orgasms.
I used to think pleasure was something that happened to me. Yesterday, I found out - sometimes all you need is a fully charged Zigu Stimulator and an empty apartment.
Yesterday was the perfect storm; my roommate was en route to the airport, my lover was stuck at work in spreadsheets, and the housekeeper had canceled. Translation? The house - and my time - were all mine. And I had Le Jardin Secret - waiting, charged, and whispering, “just try me.”
It was my first time using a suction-style toy. And let’s just say… I wasn’t prepared.
I placed it exactly where I needed. Level 1, tight fit - in the perfect way. It didn’t scream, it whispered - and then my body roared back; it felt like the space between my thighs was signing an opera - and Le Jardin Secret was the microphone. One orgasm. Then another. Then one more for good measure. When I finally braved Level 2 - I didn’t climax - I ascended.
This isn’t your average Zigu vibrator, it’s just the actual secret of this palm-held device: with its Suction Wave Opening and seamless air technology, there’s no direct contact- just a divine dance of air and vibration, choreographed solely for your clit. Because it’s not just about cuming. It’s about surrender, about discovering the kind of pleasure that makes your body hmmm like a secret it's been dying to tell. There’s untapped energy between your legs ladies, Le Jardin Secret doesn’t just unlock it - it unleashes what’s been yours all along.
It was one of those Fridays - my inbox had quieted, the to-do list was more checked than not, and the late afternoon sun spilled through the blinded like an invitation. Not to hustle, not to be productive, but to come back to myself. So I did what any curious, pleasure-prioritizing woman might do: I shut the laptop, smoked a splif, and soon reached for Le Jardin Secret.
The combo wasn’t premeditated - not really. But something about the softness of the moment, the low hum of weekend anticipation, the gentle high curling through my body… it felt like a yes. A delicious, full-bodied yes.
Here’s the thing about mixing cannabis with masturbation: it doesn’t just intensify the sensation, it expands it. It smooths the sharp edges of thought, quiets the part of me that still feels a little shy about taking my time, asking for more, surrendering fully. With the noises turned down, I could feel the yeses and nos of my body more clearly. I wasn’t performing. I wasn’t rushing. I wasn’t thinking about how I looked for if I should be doing something else. I was just there - pulsing, riding waves, held in the suctioned embrace of Le Jardin Secret.
And let me tell you: that toy is mischief in matte silicone. The gentle air pulses? Like a whisper with intention. The no-contact stimulation? Like being kissed without ever being touched. Combined with the heightened awareness cannabis brings, I wasn’t just chasing orgasm - I was exploring a new kind of intimacy with myself.
And maybe that’s the real gift here. Not just better orgasms (though, let’s be real - they were incredible), but a deeper, quieter knowing of what I want, of how I feel, of who I am when I’m free to feel it all. So here’s to letting Friday afternoons stretch wide open. To toys that tease and tools that help us tune in.To devices that awaken, substances that soften, and orgasms that remind us who we are. To a little THC, a lot of trust, and the kind of touch that begins with the self. TGIF, indeed.
Earlier this week, we shared tips on how to get in the mood - ways to warm the body, flirt with senses and coax desire out from under the covers of routine. I took my own advice.. and then, I took it further. A slow evening tucked in bed and a casual scroll through Literotica (you know, for research.) I told myself I’d just browse - in private mode. A little preview, a little taste.
There’s something about the anonymity of incognito mode that gives us permission to be bolder. We explore things we wouldn’t admit in daylight. Genres we’d never bring up at brunch. Stories we might not even admit to ourselves turn us on. I admit to you - I even found myself clicking on a story that wasn’t my usual flavor. No soft kisses or poetic metaphors. This one was… harder. Sharper. A little aggressive. A little taboo. And as I read, something inside me stirred - something primal, raw, curious. It wasn’t what I usually reach for and yet, I was turned on.
This week, I paired my unexpected literary indulgence with a new toy: Le Jardin Secret. Aptly named, if you ask me. This elegant little device is all lush curves and understated power - no direct clitoral contact, just an exquisite play of vibration and air pressure that pulls pleasure from deep within. Think slow bloom. Think crescendo. Le Jardin Secret doesn’t ask your body to hurry. It invites. It teases. And when combined with the surge of forbidden narrative still dancing in my brain, the effect was… electric.
Here’s what I’m learning. Desire doesn’t always live in the places we expect. Sometimes, it hides in the stories we scroll past. The kinks we think are “not for us.” The toys we didn’t think we needed. The part of the menu we’re never ordered from. But when we allow ourselves to taste something new - not because we should, but because we can - we meet part of ourselves we didn’t know were there. And maybe that’s what true pleasure is: not just satisfaction, but discovery.
So here’s to browsing with curiosity. To toys that whisper instead of shout. To finding the edges of our own erotica - and tracing them with trembling fingers.
Sunday. Sunscreen, sandy toes, and the kind of girl talk that only really happens under the sun with salty fries and slightly too much rum punch. Somehow - as it always has been with me for the past 17 days - the conversation turned to vibrators. I’m used to it by now. In my house, vibrators are as normal as almond milk and Wi-Fi. We talk clits over coffee and orgasms while folding the laundry. It’s not just accepted - it’s now expected.
But today, with my toes in the sand and my girlfriends lounging beside me, I realized: not everyone’s quit there yet. One still whispered when she said the word masturbation. The other laughed nervously. One I know would admit she’d never even tried had we not been in mixed company.
And it hit me - for something so natural, so deeply human, why is pleasure still something we’re taught to tiptoe around? We can talk about our breakup and our breakouts, our cramps and our craters, but talk about touching ourselves? Still taboo!
I started the Pleasure Project to change that. To make self-pleasure a part of the conversation - not a confession..And while Masturbation Month is almost over, my mission isn’t. Because if I can get even one woman to go from “I could never” to “oh my god, again!” then we’re doing something right. And if my friends’ flushed cheeks and secret Zigu orders are any indication? The word is getting out. And so are the O’s.
Monday. I woke up early - not because I had to, but because I wanted to. For once, I wasn’t rushing. No gym bag, no alarms screaming at my to be productive. I had a choice: cardio or me. So I chose me. I skipped the gym and downed down a glass of water beside me in bed. Tried to act casual, trying to start my day “normally.” But I’d left Le Jardin Secret in the bathroom the night before. And the moment I remember, my body practically walked itself there.
Door closed. Locked. Morning light pouring through the window. Just me and my secret garden. I wasn’t trying to hit a goal. I wasn’t even trying to come (though, I absolutely did). I just wanted to feel in my body before the world started making demands.
This wasn’t indulgence. It was intention. Because sometimes reclaiming your day starts with reclaiming yourself. No one tells you that self-pleasure can be your softest form of power. That choosing yourself first thing in the morning sets the tone for everything that follows. And today? I didn’t just start the week - it started, and came with me.
I had a packed calendar, a half-melted ice chai, and 13 unread emails assigned to me for updates. But all I could think about was her… tucked now in my nightstand and waiting. So I did what any overstimulated, well-loved woman working from home would do - I scheduled a meeting… with myself.
Closed the laptop. Closed down the bedroom blinds and slipped off my sweatpants and reached for Le Jardin Secret with a mission on my mind. No music, no candles, just desire. Simple, fast, and honest. I didn’t need to make a whole event out of it. I didn’t need the stars to align or my schedule to clear. I needed five minutes and a Zigu stimulator that understood the assignment.
Because the truth is, pleasure doesn’t have to wait for nighttime. Or date night. Or the “right” mood. It’s allowed to be spontaneous. It’s allowed to interrupt your day. It’s allowed to be just for you. And sometimes, the most productive thing you can do at 1:27 pm is come. Hard. Then get back to your inbox and check that off your to-do list.
Three weeks into the Pleasure Project - this week’s headliner: Le Jardin Secret, and let’s just say - we’re no longer strangers. We’ve been… intimate. Curious. And a little experimental. This week, I switched it up: a new device (and I'm thankful for it!), morning session v nighttime rituals, and a few different positions… But beyond the orgasms (and yes, there were plenty!)something else started to shift. I felt clearer. Calmer. More connected to my body in a way I didn’t expect. Turns out - daily orgasms are basically vitamins in disguise - and I’m high in count.
✨They reduce stress (thank you, oxytocin)
✨Boost your immune system (science says so!)
✨Help you sleep better, look better, feel better
✨And let’s not forget: they keep blood flowing to your pelvic floor. That’s right - self-care and core strength. We love to see it.
My body feels alive. Not just turned on - but tuned in. Responsive. Open. Curious. I can’t believe we’re entering the final week but I’m ready. Ready for the grand finale. Ready for Le Jardin Enchanté to do what she does best… seduce, surprise, and spoil me. So here’s to the final stretch - may it be the saucéiest one yet!
