Going to give my mother a vibrator
As any blogger who writes about sex will tell you, we get a lot of âgifts.â When I say âgifts,â I actually mean sex toys to test out in the hopes weâll write about them later. If you saw my âspecialâ drawer next to my bed, youâd see that itâs full of a variety of dildos, vibrators, anal plugs, vegan lubes, flavored lubes, handcuffs, a bamboo paddle and even a pair of nipple clamps.
While some of these items still remain in their boxes (pun!) untouched, others have been opened and hugely appreciated by either myself or the person with whom Iâm sharing my bed. At one time, I had so many vibrators (new and unopened), that I just kept them on my kitchen table and would let my friends take whatever they wanted. Seriously. What does one woman, with only two orifices need with all that stuff? (I say two, because Iâve never been one to put a vibrator in my mouth â just not my thing.)
I love sex. I love masturbation. I love orgasms. Whether I give them to myself or someone is kind enough to do so for me while I lay back, my knees shaking and Iâm biting my tongue so I donât scream out, âI love you!â because the feeling is so amazing that youâre quite sure in that moment you could actually love that person forever, orgasms are my friend. I couldnât live without my friends.
I also firmly believe that everyone who has a pulse, despite what their religion or archaic morals may try to tell them, should masturbate. I would support a law that would advocate it and Iâd angrily debate anyone who knocks it â even my mom.
My mom is Catholic, and apparently, seriously devoted Catholics do not masturbate â ever. It could be a life or death situation, and they wonât do it. Why? Because God says itâs bad, youâll grow hairy palms, your clit will rot right the fuck off and eventually youâll go blind. Youâll probably die, too, because itâs that awful of a plague. Masturbation is just as evil as murder, you guys. Or at least this is was any religious fanatic will tell you, as it has been dictated to them.
According to my mother, she has never masturbated. Never ever. I realize that for some, the mere thought of even having such a discussion with your mother is terrifying, but before you get completely weirded out, let me just explain that it took a long time for my sister and I to get my mother to this point where sex-related topics were acceptable to discuss with her.
After being married to my father â the staunch atheist â for over 30 years, my mother has loosened up a bit. But still, that Catholic guilt that was inflicted upon her through years of Catholic school and an upbringing that was steeped in believing the Bible is the word of God, there are still things that make my mother squirm. My mother doesnât want to know that the chef I fucked the other night gave me one of the best orgasms of my life or the lessons I learned at Babelandâs blowjob class, but she does. She does because I write about sex and she reads what I write.
Not to get into my parentsâ sex life, because that something even I donât need to know, my mother has, on a few occasions, admitted to my sister that things arenât exactly what they used to be. She doesnât get into the same gruesome details that my sister and I would, but what it comes down to is that orgasms just arenât happening with the fervor they once did.
When she initially made this confession a few years ago, my sister and I both joked that weâd get her a vibrator for Christmas. She scoffed at even the mention of it: âThatâs disgusting! Just because you two masturbate, doesnât mean I ever will. If you get me one, Iâll never use it. Iâll throw it out.â She then used the word âdisgustingâ a few more times, so we decided that maybe what she really needed was a thesaurus for Christmas instead.
But this year, Iâm going to do it. Yes, Iâm going to buy my mother her very first vibrator.
For starters, she deserves it. She puts up with a lot (she does have me as a daughter, after all), and other daily bullshit that could be taken down a notch with the release that comes with an orgasm. Secondly, maybe it will spice up my parentsâ sex life. Again, thatâs something I donât need to know about, but still, âYay them!â if that happens to be the case. Lastly, and most importantly, I want my mother to embrace her sexuality.
Despite having come of age in â60s and â70s, my mother never got the whole âwomenâs libâ thing. Itâs not that she didnât care, but she wasnât on the front lines of it and I think, a lot of that had to do with her conservative upbringing. The woman I know as my mother now is far more feminist, open and liberal than the woman she was in her 20s â even she admits this, and thanks my sister and I for it.
So if thatâs the case, Mom, why canât we get this anti-masturbation thing under control and just go for it? You donât have to admit you use the vibrator Iâm going to get you, but at least unwrap it, take it to your room and stare at it for a few hours. Mull it over, weigh the pros and cons (what cons?) and just accept the gift that keeps on giving. Masturbation is good. Orgasms are your friends. And as I said, you canât live without friends
While some of these items still remain in their boxes (pun!) untouched, others have been opened and hugely appreciated by either myself or the person with whom Iâm sharing my bed. At one time, I had so many vibrators (new and unopened), that I just kept them on my kitchen table and would let my friends take whatever they wanted. Seriously. What does one woman, with only two orifices need with all that stuff? (I say two, because Iâve never been one to put a vibrator in my mouth â just not my thing.)
I love sex. I love masturbation. I love orgasms. Whether I give them to myself or someone is kind enough to do so for me while I lay back, my knees shaking and Iâm biting my tongue so I donât scream out, âI love you!â because the feeling is so amazing that youâre quite sure in that moment you could actually love that person forever, orgasms are my friend. I couldnât live without my friends.
I also firmly believe that everyone who has a pulse, despite what their religion or archaic morals may try to tell them, should masturbate. I would support a law that would advocate it and Iâd angrily debate anyone who knocks it â even my mom.
My mom is Catholic, and apparently, seriously devoted Catholics do not masturbate â ever. It could be a life or death situation, and they wonât do it. Why? Because God says itâs bad, youâll grow hairy palms, your clit will rot right the fuck off and eventually youâll go blind. Youâll probably die, too, because itâs that awful of a plague. Masturbation is just as evil as murder, you guys. Or at least this is was any religious fanatic will tell you, as it has been dictated to them.
According to my mother, she has never masturbated. Never ever. I realize that for some, the mere thought of even having such a discussion with your mother is terrifying, but before you get completely weirded out, let me just explain that it took a long time for my sister and I to get my mother to this point where sex-related topics were acceptable to discuss with her.
After being married to my father â the staunch atheist â for over 30 years, my mother has loosened up a bit. But still, that Catholic guilt that was inflicted upon her through years of Catholic school and an upbringing that was steeped in believing the Bible is the word of God, there are still things that make my mother squirm. My mother doesnât want to know that the chef I fucked the other night gave me one of the best orgasms of my life or the lessons I learned at Babelandâs blowjob class, but she does. She does because I write about sex and she reads what I write.
Not to get into my parentsâ sex life, because that something even I donât need to know, my mother has, on a few occasions, admitted to my sister that things arenât exactly what they used to be. She doesnât get into the same gruesome details that my sister and I would, but what it comes down to is that orgasms just arenât happening with the fervor they once did.
When she initially made this confession a few years ago, my sister and I both joked that weâd get her a vibrator for Christmas. She scoffed at even the mention of it: âThatâs disgusting! Just because you two masturbate, doesnât mean I ever will. If you get me one, Iâll never use it. Iâll throw it out.â She then used the word âdisgustingâ a few more times, so we decided that maybe what she really needed was a thesaurus for Christmas instead.
But this year, Iâm going to do it. Yes, Iâm going to buy my mother her very first vibrator.
For starters, she deserves it. She puts up with a lot (she does have me as a daughter, after all), and other daily bullshit that could be taken down a notch with the release that comes with an orgasm. Secondly, maybe it will spice up my parentsâ sex life. Again, thatâs something I donât need to know about, but still, âYay them!â if that happens to be the case. Lastly, and most importantly, I want my mother to embrace her sexuality.
Despite having come of age in â60s and â70s, my mother never got the whole âwomenâs libâ thing. Itâs not that she didnât care, but she wasnât on the front lines of it and I think, a lot of that had to do with her conservative upbringing. The woman I know as my mother now is far more feminist, open and liberal than the woman she was in her 20s â even she admits this, and thanks my sister and I for it.
So if thatâs the case, Mom, why canât we get this anti-masturbation thing under control and just go for it? You donât have to admit you use the vibrator Iâm going to get you, but at least unwrap it, take it to your room and stare at it for a few hours. Mull it over, weigh the pros and cons (what cons?) and just accept the gift that keeps on giving. Masturbation is good. Orgasms are your friends. And as I said, you canât live without friends
12 years ago
