Archive for Masturbation

Podcasts and Vibrators

Posted in Masturbation, raising daughters, single moms, single parenting, women's liberation with tags , , , , on April 24, 2016 by sexandthesinglesoccermom

So, something different and interesting happened to me the other day: I got interviewed for a podcast. I was a little nervous when he showed up at my house with very official looking equipment (soundboard, microphones, headphones and lots and lots of wires), but I managed to relax and enjoy the experience.  The interview questions and organic conversation led to discussion of my blog, as well as several fairly explicit subjects. Not a problem for me, but it will make it a bit awkward if friends who knew about the interview want to have the link for the podcast.

This is the same scenario that led to one of the most frank and, for my daughters at least, mortifying conversations over lunch ever.

They both knew I was being interviewed. Over a lunch out at one of our favorite local restaurants, they asked me how it had gone. I described the equipment and what it was like in detail and they both seemed excited.

“So, we’ll get to listen to it, right?” Asks my twelve year old, her face beaming with excitement over what she probably imagines is my famousness.

Awkward pause as I quickly think back to the some of the topics of choice: My recent purchase of a vibrator, butt plugs and anal sex.

“Uhm…” I stall, trying to think quickly. “Probably not. It has a lot of bad language in it.”

“Mom.” The fourteen year old looks at me with the sort of disdain only a teenager can manage. “We’ve heard lots of bad language.”

“Yeah, but this was excessive.” I insist.

“We don’t care, we just want to listen to you.”

“I talked about several things I don’t think you guys would want to hear about and you wouldn’t really understand.”

Another eye roll from the teenager. “I’m sure I would.”

I take a deep breath and say, “Well, do you guys know what vibrators are?”

Much to my surprise they both nod.

“Oh.” I’m a bit stumped now. “Well, I told a story about one.”

“What sort of story?”

“Well, I told a really funny story about the last time I bought one.” I take a sip of my tea and watch their faces carefully. They just look at me with no expression, then suddenly I watch a look of horror cross the face of the fourteen year old.

“What?” She exclaims loudly. “You bought one??”

“Well, yeah.”

She stares at me in mortified horror. “Do you keep it in the HOUSE?”

“Of course I keep it in the house. Did you think I’d keep it in the storage shed out back?”

The twelve year old pipes up: “Because then spiders might crawl on it and it would get spiderwebs and stuff.”

Keeping a very straight face, I nod. “That probably would be bad.”

Fourteen year old: “YOU KEEP IT IN THE HOUSE???”

“It’s really not a big deal.” I reply calmly. “When you get a few years older, we can go and get you one if you want. It’s a normal thing and I’ve already told you that if you were curious about your body then you could…”

“Oh my god!” She moans, burying her face into her hands. “Please just, just stop talking.”

“Okay, okay.” We sit there for a moment. “But when I was your age…”

“Stop. Talking.” Hissed at me from behind her hands.

I can’t resist. “But you certainly don’t need a vibrator, you could just use your hands.”

Let’s just say that if looks could kill, I would be very, very dead.

Perhaps it’s strange to have a mother-daughter lunch that involves discussion of vibrators, but I always want them to be comfortable with their bodies and sexuality. Growing up, every time I touched myself I was certain I was doing something unholy and wrong. I want my kids to know I won’t judge them for something natural.

Still…perhaps over burgers and fries at lunchtime isn’t the best timing. And the podcast, for them at least, will have to wait a few more years.

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Misadventures in Adult Toyland

Posted in Masturbation, Sex toys with tags , , , on April 14, 2016 by sexandthesinglesoccermom

Because I’m deeply introspective and struggle with depression, sometimes I can get bogged down with what is happening in my head and heart and this blog can get to be, frankly, a bit of a bummer for the reader. I always want to be authentic here, but I’m going to try harder to balance the darkness with levity when I’m struggling through something. So while I work on healing, here’s a funny story about trying to buy a vibrator…

My Lelo vibrator stopped working long, long ago. This wasn’t a crisis to me, because I’ve never had a problem with…ahem…self-love that doesn’t involve battery operated gadgets. Sure, they’re fun, but I know how to get the job done without them. My lover, however, seemed to think this was a tragedy. So I went online and tried to find one, reading reviews and pros and cons. I felt bogged down by the choices, so I always ended up frustrated, without making a purchase.

When he and I planned a trip together, I thought it might be fun to have a toy, so I decided to go to our local adult store and look over the selections, in person, and finally make a decision.

Flaw #1 in my plan: There’s a family BBQ restaurant right next door to the shop (what genius came up with THAT plan??). I inadvertently timed my trip to coincide with lunchtime, on Sunday, after church lets out. So, there are the nicely dressed families waiting outside the restaurant. There’s me, walking past them all, to go into the sex shop.

No worries. I’m a strong, proud woman who isn’t ashamed of her sexuality. I held my head high and went straight past them.

Flaw #2 in my plan: Thinking that seeing the vibrators in person would make it easier to choose. I gather up lingerie and massage oil for my trip, then head to the back of the store. On my way I pass the porn section, in which there are several furtive looking men browsing and casting sideways glances at me.

I’m proud and strong and not ashamed of my sexuality, remember? I ignore them.

The wall of vibrators is intimidating and I’m momentarily frozen by the sheer number of choices. It’s like trying to decide on yogurt at the grocery store–there are too many to pick from! Should I go with the thrusting rabbit? The bullet style? Long? Short? Rotating shaft?

Flaw #3 in my plan: Coming up with the brilliant idea to ask for help from the sales clerk. I quietly ask her if there is a style of vibrator that is more popular or a bestseller. She perkily says, “Want to come on a journey with me?”

She leads me back to the vibrator section, where behind me a man is looking at butt plugs, and begins to loudly rattle off the pros and cons.

“The rabbits aren’t actually that great, because they put too much pressure on the clit, which can get too sensitive. Do you like it the rotating shaft feature?” I murmur something incoherent. She continues, “What about length? Girth? What’s your preference? Oh…these are really popular right now. They have several different speeds and it has a butterfly feature for the clit, which doesn’t apply so much pressure, only pleasure.”

Butt plug man has now turned around, giving his full attention to her spiel. On the inside I am chanting my mantra: I am a strong woman who is not ashamed of my sexuality. I grab the one she was pointing at off the shelf and say, “I’ll take this one.” Not only am I relieved to make a decision, but I’m hoping this will halt the tide of words that seem to keep coming out of her mouth.

I follow her past porno men and butt plug man, up to the front counter so I can pay and then quickly leave. She says, “I always like to check to make sure it works”, while pulling batteries out of a box. Meanwhile, a much older man comes in with what looks like a return and stands behind me, waiting for service.

She proceeds to pull my chosen vibrator out of its box and put in batteries, checking every feature. Twice. She looks at me when she’s done and I nod, randomly thinking this is like the sex toy version of nodding approval for the sommelier when he pours your wine. I’m feeling a mix of mortification and hysterical amusement. I breathe a sigh of relief as she puts it back in the box. Out of the corner of my eye I see one of the porno guys join the older guy in line behind me. I whip out my credit card and hand it to her.

She takes it, then pauses. “Do you have toy cleaner?”

“Uhm…no? I just thought I’d use a gentle soap.”

She shakes her head emphatically. “No, no. That will tear up your toy. Let me get you some.”

She walks away to get the cleaner and I look resolutely ahead.

Strong woman. Not ashamed of my sexuality.

I ignore the 3rd man who has joined the growing line behind me, waiting to check out. I’m pretty sure it’s butt plug man.

She returns, triumphantly waving the foam cleaner,  and proceeds to give me a quick lesson on how to clean the toy.

“Great. Thanks.” I push my credit card back across the counter at her. She takes it, then looks up at me again.

“Wait. Batteries. Do you have batteries? After all, you don’t want to get it home, pull this baby out and suddenly realize you don’t have batteries.”

I frantically snatch a package of batteries off the tiny hooks near the front counter and throw them up there (sex toy impulse shopping?).

She nods her approval and finally, finally, rings up my purchases. I take a deep breath and take my bag, walking past the line of waiting customers (all men) and then past the Sunday after-church lunch group, finally getting into my car.

Next time, I’m buying my sex toys online.