Get ready to be jelly…
Insert all jelly puns here. Actually, don’t. Because the only jelly I want inserted from now on is the Uberrime Jellyfish 2.0 dildo. No K-Y, no Smucker’s (though chutneys are always welcome), and DEFINITELY no PVC mystery materials. Judging by the amount of double-entendres and jelly references I’ve been making since the arrival of this dildo, the Jellyfish 2.0 really shines as a conversation piece. The shimmer, the glitter, the glow-in-the-dark dribble, the texture, the squish, the size…it’s fucking gorgeous in multisensory aesthetic. And this jellyfish isn’t even that jell-y! It’s actually quite firm. I guess you could say the concept of this dildo has really gelled with my philosophies on the beauty of form meeting function. Okay, okay, time to reel it in.
I’ve had an evolving relationship with tactilely complex insertables through the years. As bodies change, so do minds, preferences, desires, and reactions. Nothing in my blog explains this better than the “three bears” metaphor with my ocean collection (one too soft, one too hard, the Jellyfish 2.0 ALMOST just right). In addition to my Tails and Portholes Leviathan and my Simply Elegant glass dildo, Uberrime completes this trifecta of nautical novelties, stepping my fantasy collection up a notch with its (literally stunning) design and thoughtful approach. I missed the boat when I failed to get my tentacles on the Tails and Portholes Jellyfish and the Whipspider Jellyfish before both companies closed, so I was super excited when She-Vibe shipped me this treasure.
Uberrime’s reboot packs a punch, one I’ve read about in review after review about the Jellyfish 2.0. So many beloved bloggers have been reviewing this particular dildo, generating a fascinating scuttlebutt for note comparisons. The marvelous thing about sex toy blogging is that there isn’t necessarily a scarcity versus abundance economy for content. Obscure toy reviews are super intriguing niche-reads; likewise, it’s also valuable to review toys which still exist on the market. When companies like Uberrime get the exposure they deserve, it provides unique opportunities as readers and reviewers to take advantage of new products and dispense as much information as possible. Since bodies and sensations are different among and between bloggers, it has been a true pleasure to read different interpretations of the Jellyfish 2.0 experience.
In a playful attempt at scientific “methodology,” I made sure to test the Jellyfish 2.0 several times before reading anyone else’s reviews. And so far the data lines up. I’ve read the word “pop” in at least four reviews now, and I’m going to go ahead and echo that observation. Unlike the floppy tip of the Leviathan head which made it difficult to guide inside of me, the Jellyfish 2.0 has quite a firm head in mild contrast to its shaft shore. This made insertion much easier at point of contact, but the moment its head gets completely inside me there is a tangible “pop.” It’s like the firmness of the coronal ridge drops off into the Marianas Trench of medium-shore squiggles and ribbons. The head locks against my G-Spot until I make a considerable effort with lube to push onward.
My biggest surprise with the Jellyfish 2.0 was not my fondness for the shaft. I knew I’d enjoy the ripples the way I enjoyed the suckers of the Leviathan. I love hard silicone dildos when they’re smooth, but I prefer bumpy silicone at a medium shore. What surprised me was the unexpected discovery of my A-Spot. I’ve been able to feel my A-Spot externally by pressing above my pubic bone, a technique I learned from Girly Juice’s external G-Spot heart tattoo. When I mutually masturbate next to my partner, he can often help me orgasm just by adding external pressure to my A-Spot while I use my toys. I had never felt it internally with any previous toys until the Jellyfish 2.0 and when I say I was shocked, I mean my whole body twitched and froze like someone put a Petrificus Totalus curse on me. Apparently I said “What the fuck?!” with a tone of disbelief, fascination, and amusement, but I was so in my body at that point I had no idea what else was going on around me.
The Jellyfish 2.0, with its protruding head and lube-hungry ridges, will not be a dildo I use with vim and vigor. I appreciate how the tentacles extend and flatten towards the base, creating little risen and indented surfaces for my thumbs to pinch. I think that, given this dildo’s propensity to anchor inside of me, a wider, thicker, and firmer base akin to NYTC’s Shilo might give it better grip for thrusting. The base is just wide enough to fit through a metal O-Ring on my harness, but with enough tugging, the squishy flare gives way and the entire thing pops out. It’s a moot point dramatization since nobody is likely going to be yanking my dick like they’re starting a motorboat. Overall I think the Jellyfish 2.0 is probably more of an edging dildo than an orgasm dildo as it feels nice with slight movements, but anything too rigorous gets a bit uncomfortable as I get more aroused. It has certainly sparked my curiosity with regards to Uberrime’s ever-expanding line and I am very interested to try more of their products!
