My friends are pretty varied when it comes to experience. Anne's vagina seldom has a penis to play with, but she has all sorts of toys. I never go more than a week without an orgasm--or, to be more precise, a session that involves at least a few. Lola's vagina, though... I don't think she has ever had an orgasm, and that's a real shame.
I can understand maintaining one's virginity. I don't think anyone should lose it before they're one hundred percent positive they are ready to do so, and if one has religion bundled up in the thought process, I can respect that too. I also get wanting to take a relationship slowly, and holding out on manual and oral sex for a while. I suppose I can even understand that a few (aberrant) people consider themselves asexual, with no interest in physical intimacy or pleasure.
I understand these things, but I can't at all connect with them on a personal level. Orgasms are natural and, at least for me and what I perceive to be a vast majority of others, necessary. I think it's healthy to at least masturbate on a regular basis, for so many reasons.
An orgasm is helpful to one's mental health. When I'm stressed, down, bored, or having difficulty focusing on a task at hand (like, writing a term paper or getting up the energy to mop the floor), I just need a self-administered orgasm or two. I'm instantly more relaxed and happy, and it's easier for me to focus and accomplish what needs to be done. Anne's vagina says she's the same way, and so does my best friend and favorite playmate, Henry's penis. I can't help but think the experience is, if not universal, at least extremely common.
Masturbation leads to better physical understanding of self. I can't speak for penises here, because I know their experiences are very different from mine, but I think I can represent the average vagina well enough. Physically, masturbation helps us figure out where stimulation is most effective. Lydia's vagina prefers a massage high to the left, but I feel best when the sensation focuses just to the right of my clitoris. When we vaginas know what we like best, we can communicate it to our playmates and improve the experience for everyone invilved.
Self-stimulation can also lead to better psychosexual understanding of self. Masturbation will either shut your conscious mind off (blessed peace!) or send it in a specific direction. Sometimes during masturbation, I find my mind frantically going over stressors in my day, like the fact that I missed taking the trash out in time for the garbage truck because I needed to pay or bill, or similar stupid stuff. This helps me realize exactly how stressed out I am, and what I need to do to improve my situation--even if it just means setting the stressors aside and kicking back with a good book for a few hours. Often, though, my masturbation leads me to delightful sexual fantasies, which can play out attractions to other people's genitals with whom I can't play, or lead to ideas I can incorporate when playing with Henry's penis or our vagina friends.
Interactive orgasms are really important for relationships, too. They can strengthen the lovers' bond... or help the lovers understand that they are not compatible enough to stay together. One of my former playmates and I started off having a ton of fun together, but the more orgasms we had together, the more we learned about ourselves. He was a submissive penis who liked having his back whipped so hard it left marks, and I am a submissive vagina who hates causing pain, even if my partner asks for it. We really weren't right for each other, and we never would have found it out without the mutual pursuit of orgasms.
I really hope Lola's vagina relaxes enough play, at least with herself. There are so many benefits to be had.
2011-06-29
Introduction
I can't claim to have had the most original idea. On one hand we have erotic art, probably in high contrast black-and-white and arranged in stylish coffee table books for vintage- or Bohemian-couture apartments. On the other hand, we have colleges, feminist groups and theatres across the country casting female actors to empower the word "cunt." However, I can claim to have a unique perspective. After all, no two vaginas are perfectly alike. I bet even the vaginas of identical twin sisters* can have different ideas on how to celebrate womanhood, sexuality and beauty.
So, this is my blog. This is my perspective on life, society, and Elizabeth, the twenty-something to whom I am intimately connected. She's a natural redhead, which works out better for me than it does for her. She gets sunburns. I get a rare, pretty hair color. I've seen porn advertising redheads, and a good percentage of those women were masquerading with hair dye and a close shave. True redheads deal with jokes like "gingervitis" and "firecrotch," as well as the stereotypes of bad tempers and huge sexual appetites. Ever have a cocktail of jagermeister, peach schnapps and cranberry juice? That's a Redheaded Slut. Your country club might try to pass it off as a Redheaded Soccormom to make it more PC, but we all know what she's doing when she isn't driving her minivan or shopping for groceries.
Truth be told, I haven't met a single redhead who didn't openly embrace his or her rampant horniness. I'm sure conservative redheads exist, but all the ones I know either sleep around or find a steady partner who can keep up. Pair two available redheads together and they'll find the first excuse possible to remove every stitch of clothing. This only gets annoying when new acquaintances take liberties with the stereotype. For example, take the creepy professional academic in his mid fifties, wearing a velvet cloak at the Renaissance Faire, chatting glibly about his passions for medieval literature, cognac, and promiscuous redheads as if these are simply items on the list of Fun Ways To Spend Fifteen Minutes. The pros definitely outweigh the cons, though. Elizabeth has that stereotypical sex drive, so I play an important role in her life. She didn't introduce me to my first penis until college, but by then I was already good friends with fingers and mouths. We still have a lot of fun when we hang out.
I've seen this comfort with sexuality have positive effects on my friends, too. Shy, neglected genitals hear about all the different ways I have fun, and it gives them the confidence to explore new ideas and activities. One former lover of mine started out homophobic, became comfortable with my bisexuality, and opened his mind to desires he had previously feared. My vagina friends tend to get a kick out my adventures, too. Some are content with the vicarious experiences; others share their own stories about batteries running out of power at just the wrong moment. Redheaded or not, I say, spread the word: sex is natural, fun, and nothing to fear. Just, you know, be responsible about it.
*Go ahead, enjoy the mental image.
So, this is my blog. This is my perspective on life, society, and Elizabeth, the twenty-something to whom I am intimately connected. She's a natural redhead, which works out better for me than it does for her. She gets sunburns. I get a rare, pretty hair color. I've seen porn advertising redheads, and a good percentage of those women were masquerading with hair dye and a close shave. True redheads deal with jokes like "gingervitis" and "firecrotch," as well as the stereotypes of bad tempers and huge sexual appetites. Ever have a cocktail of jagermeister, peach schnapps and cranberry juice? That's a Redheaded Slut. Your country club might try to pass it off as a Redheaded Soccormom to make it more PC, but we all know what she's doing when she isn't driving her minivan or shopping for groceries.
Truth be told, I haven't met a single redhead who didn't openly embrace his or her rampant horniness. I'm sure conservative redheads exist, but all the ones I know either sleep around or find a steady partner who can keep up. Pair two available redheads together and they'll find the first excuse possible to remove every stitch of clothing. This only gets annoying when new acquaintances take liberties with the stereotype. For example, take the creepy professional academic in his mid fifties, wearing a velvet cloak at the Renaissance Faire, chatting glibly about his passions for medieval literature, cognac, and promiscuous redheads as if these are simply items on the list of Fun Ways To Spend Fifteen Minutes. The pros definitely outweigh the cons, though. Elizabeth has that stereotypical sex drive, so I play an important role in her life. She didn't introduce me to my first penis until college, but by then I was already good friends with fingers and mouths. We still have a lot of fun when we hang out.
I've seen this comfort with sexuality have positive effects on my friends, too. Shy, neglected genitals hear about all the different ways I have fun, and it gives them the confidence to explore new ideas and activities. One former lover of mine started out homophobic, became comfortable with my bisexuality, and opened his mind to desires he had previously feared. My vagina friends tend to get a kick out my adventures, too. Some are content with the vicarious experiences; others share their own stories about batteries running out of power at just the wrong moment. Redheaded or not, I say, spread the word: sex is natural, fun, and nothing to fear. Just, you know, be responsible about it.
*Go ahead, enjoy the mental image.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)