I Need Bigger Balls

I recently read about a “sex toy” that was invented hundreds of years ago: Ben Wa Balls.  Weighted balls made to enhance sexual stimulation AND work the kegel muscles (supposedly the muscles work continually in an effort to hold the balls in), they come in different shapes and sizes. Kegel exercises are something that I absolutely despise doing, despite the myriad benefits that come with regular practice. So, I thought perhaps I’d try this ancient technique to help get everything down there in shape and maybe, just maybe, it would feel kind of good in the process.

So I purchase the cutest pair of glass balls with beautiful blue flowers inside the glass. I feel somewhat risque and exotic as I place them where they need to be. I then proceed to walk around the house, going about my day, proud with the knowledge that I am exercising! Sadly, I feel nothing pleasurable or sexy. I even try jumping up and down, dancing and swaying to see if I will feel any unusual sensations. Nope. Nada. Zip.

After about 30 minutes it is time for me to get ready to go out for the evening; I decide it is time for the ball to come out. The balls, however, seem to have a different idea. Try as I might, I cannot….quite…reach…them! Granted, I have short fingers. Still, just as I would touch one ball, the other ball would bounce against it and move it out of my reach even further. I make attempt after attempt. By now I am curled into a human pretzel and starting to feel frustrated (and not in a pleasurable way!). Finally, I stand up and start to jump up and down, hoping to move them to a place where I can reach them. Trying again, I realize the balls have not moved at all. What does this mean? Does it mean that everything down there is fine and needs absolutely no further tightening, as the balls seem to be staying in place just fine? Or does it mean things are like the Grand Canyon, with unwitting “hikers” getting stranded forever???

I concede momentary defeat and slump against the wall. I suddenly start to feel panicked as I envision never getting them out. What if they are stuck there forever? What are the long-term consequences of having a pair of glass balls rolling around inside your body? Will I have to make an emergency call for assistance? How exactly does one phrase that call? “Hello, I seem to have a pair of glass balls lost up inside me. Can you assist me in retrieving them?” Then I have a sudden mental image of going out that evening and suddenly having the balls come out, unexpectedly. How does one explain balls dropping from their nether region? My heart starts to pound harder and I feel a fluttery attack of anxiety as my mind races to contemplate the various paths (ha!) the ball experience could take.

Finally, I realize it is do or die time. I contort myself and using all my dexterity and a large dose of sheer, panicked will, finally manage after several attempts to get one of the Ben Wa balls out. One more left…with superhuman determination, I retrieve the other. Washing them carefully and placing them back in their satin case (they’re just so damned pretty!), I close the lid with a loud snap.

I called my friend shortly after to tell her about the experience. Once ball-less, I can actually laugh about the ridiculousness of it. She listens, chuckles, lets me know, wryly, our friendship would not have extended to an offer of ball retrieval. When she asks me to describe them, she is silent for a moment, then diagnoses the situation with one comment.

“Clearly, you need bigger balls.”



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