Sex With Someone You Love

Are there things that are off-limits here at Tiny Cat Pants? I guess we’re about to find out.

Because I’d like to touch briefly on female masturbation. Ha, I said “touch briefly.”

Okay, now that that’s out of my system…

I was thinking of how Elias used to have this ‘zine and he asked me to write an article for it and so I wrote this hilarious expose about my experimentations in masturbation. Basically, I got on the internet, found some site offering tips on female masturbation, tried them out, and rated them for his readers.

I wouldn’t bring it up except that I almost died, twice, during the same session while doing the research for said article.

If you’re a woman, you’ve certainly heard of the bathtub method, where you lay down in your bathtub, throw your legs up at a 90 degree angle and scoot way down so that you’re aligned with the faucet, and you let the water flow over your cooter until you orgasm.

If any of you have tried this, you already know the first way I almost died. If you are scooted up so that your cooter is aligned with your faucet, chances are your butt is over the drain, and the bathtub is filling up with water. And, while the sensation of water flowing over your cooter is pleasant, it ended up being a race to see if I’d finish up before the water covered my face.

I lost. That was bad enough. But then I went to sit up and, apparently, my back had made some kind of seal on the tub bottom so that when I sat up, it made this enormous farty groany noise which caused me to start laughing and I hit my head on the side of the tub so hard I thought I would pass out and end up drowning again.

Luckily, I lived.

But my larger point is that girls get a lot of fucked up messages about sex, which causes us to be very fucked up about sex, which is too bad, because it’s fun, but if we’re fucked up, chances are it’s not very fun for the people we’re fucking.

I can recall masturbating as a little girl. I didn’t know that’s what I was doing, because no one in my family ever talked about sex with me, except my grandma, who had an elaborate theory about how the Pope was trying to convert all her grand-daughters to Catholicism, because “Protestant girls have needs and Catholic boys know this and they will bring you right up to the point where you will have to have sex or die and they’ll hop out of the car and refuse to get back in unless you promise to marry them and become Catholic.*”

There was a point where you’d have to have sex or die? And Catholic boys knew how to get you to it? Bring on the Catholic boys!

Anyway, my point being that I was masturbating, but didn’t know what it was (My favorite fantasy? That I was naked and encased in dried mud. No, I don’t understand it either.). Then, I figured out that I was playing with myself and that it was wrong and made me bad and so I stopped.

I got older and wanted to start up again, but I still felt like it was wrong. Then, I read an interview with Sharon Stone, talking about that scene in Sliver where she masturbates in the bathtub (though, wisely, not using the aforementioned method). And she went on at some length about how she cried afterwards and how all of the women on set were also crying because there’s just something so sad about women masturbating**. And so then I was like, well, I don’t want to be one of those sad women who masturbate.

Luckily, I had this kick-ass feminist professor in college who was all the time talking about how she had to masturbate during commencement just to be able to not die of boredom.

“You masturbate?” I asked. I’m embarrassed to tell you what I said next, but for you, I will. “But you have a husband!”

“So?”

“But…”

“B., how the fuck is he supposed to know what I like if I don’t know what I like? Plus, sometimes you’ve got to have a little something to get you through a boring-ass day.”

This was like some kind of revelation from the gods. Masturbation was fun and recreational and something one did in addition to propping herself up on the sink the the bathroom of a certain frat house while some dude whose name she can’t even remember now*** told her he loved her until she asked him to stop because it was creeping her out. Ugh, what the fuck?

Anyway, where was I?

Yes, masturbation. More importantly women getting in touch with themselves.

It comes to my attention that there is a portion of the female population who trade sexual favors for chores. Who does this? It’s like me saying “I’m not going to go for ice cream with you unless you take out the garbage.” Why would I risk missing out on ice cream?

Do these women not like sex?

Let’s use a metaphor the boys will understand: you don’t just learn how to catch the ball once summer when you’re fifteen and then make a career of playing baseball. You have to continue to practice the fundamentals, even between games if you want to enjoy playing.

So, it seems to me that these women who use sex as a means to manipulate their partners instead of enjoying it for its own sake might benefit from some alone time.

*In all fairness to my grandma, I should point out that these Papist conspiracy theories didn’t start until after she’d had a few strokes.
** I looked for this article and could not find it. So, I could be misremembering.
*** Are there children reading this blog? If so, I say, respect yourself to wait for someone whose name you’ll remember.

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25 thoughts on “Sex With Someone You Love

  1. Aunt B, this post made me happy and made me laugh out loud. What you needed was one of those hand-held shower heads like the one we had at our house in North Carolina. I think fondly sometimes of that shower head.

    I nodded my head all the way through your story: the discovering masturbation years before you even know what sex is, all the guilt when you realize it’s a sin, the trying not to do it and then feeling bad when you do, and then finally realizing from smart, cool women that it’s really a great thing. Hooray for masturbation!

    Miss J

  2. Because I totally did it as a shout out to you, who ripped it off from Annie Hall in the first place. So, don’t be getting all proprietary about it, thief.

  3. Oh, Miss J, I assure you that the joy of the hand-held shower head has not gone unnoted.

    Ha, if the Butcher reads this, he’ll stop bathing!

  4. That Woody Allen has been stealing from me for years.

    That fucker even took my idea for screwing my Asian step-daughter.

  5. Ok, I came to your blog from Peg over at artsy fartsy, and I must must tell you, i laughed so hard I almost peed on myself. The bf is looking at me like I’v elost my mind, and I couldnt stop even to explain it to him.

    the bathtub thing, i did in my teenage years and thought I had discovered this secret all my own. I’d NEVER told anyone about it, and NEVER heard anyone speak of it till this second. (and then again a few seconds later when i told the bf, and he’d never heard of it either, but did get a kick out of my peals of laughter and explanation of it, rofl)

    I love the way you write, I’ll be back, :::smile:::

  6. oh, and I’v suspected for some time now that my teenager has discovered the joys of the hand held shower head…i just havent broached it with her yet, and the bf blanched and nearly fainted when i tried to talk to him about it, lmao

  7. I still have the copy of that ‘zine somewhere around the house with my box of letters from that era. My friends in my repressed graduate program and I enjoyed it very much.

    Besides your hands on article (ha! I said hands on!) there was also a particularly illuminating writing on craisins one line of which I can still quote.

    Hooray for craisins and mastrubation! (there’s a sentence I never anticpated writing)

  8. Aunt B.

    My 7 year old daughter is quite liberated. She has been masterbating for the last few years. Of course she doesn’t know what it is she is doing, but when she goes to bed, she lays on her belly, puts her fingers between her legs, and rubs through her panties. Her hips grind up and down and you can hear her breathing kinda funny.
    At first notice, I was kinda disturbed by this. Then I was ashamed of it. Now I realize that she isn’t hurting anything, it helps her go to sleep, and maybe, though this might sound strange, it may help her to become a good partner for her husband/lovers (God forbid the later…LOL).

  9. B,
    Oh, but you have to find and post that article! Anyway, I knew of a girl in high school who went to the emergency room b/c her tampon string broke off and she couldn’t figure any other way to have it removed. My point being that there are girls who reach their late teens not knowing that there’s only so far stuff can go, and you can save yourself a lot of trouble by fishing it out yourself. I’m thinking those girls are never going to come near “alone time,” and it’s a damn shame that some women are so out of touch (har, har) with their own bodies.


  10. But then I went to sit up and, apparently, my back had made some kind of seal on the tub bottom so that when I sat up, it made this enormous farty groany noise

    I have done this before. Well, not while masturbating in the bathtub (I swear!!). But I tried to sit up so fast that it felt like the skin was gonna rip off my back from the suction. It hurt like a motherfucker.

  11. how the fuck is he supposed to know what I like if I don’t know what I like?
    I once asked a woman to show me how she does it. It was quite a night. Funnily enough, I almost died a couple of times that night too.

    There most definitely is a point where you’d have to have sex or die. But you don’t want to know about it. Trust me. It’s for masochists. You don’t really discover its existence until you actually stop. If you’re actually planning on having sex you just sort of blow past it without noticing. So generally, if you’re at that point, you ain’t getting any.

    w

  12. Oh my god! It was worth it to write this post just for the awesome comments. I’ve been howling!

    All hail the hand-held shower head. And craisins, of course. Chris, sure, you were just innocently in the tub. Sure.

    W., I just don’t even know what to say. But I’m giggling.

  13. I understand the near drowning thing. Water pressure really matters – it has to be enough to get the job done without filling the tub too fast. Damn plumbing.

  14. You know what’s best? Jacuzzi squirters. You just sort of kneel next to them and Wa-la! No drowning risk. Just warmth and pressure and joy.

  15. This is one area where women are at a distinct advantage. You see, you have all these toys and possible toys to use to please and relieve yourself of your sexual frustrations. Us men, we have what? Some lotion and a crazy rubber sock…and thats about it. Not to mention, you don’t have to worry much about the cleanup afterwards.

    Heck, you can even use musical instruments….”This one time, at band camp, I stuck a flute in my …..”

    Lucky!

  16. True story: When the NosePicker was little, maybe six years old, he discovered the joys of the self-pleasuring. I would catch him just quietly rubbing himself, and as a New Age Modern Mom, I calmly told him that that was something one did in private. One day he just must have gotten the urge, and found it necessary to tell me, ” Mom? You know that thing I like to do? I’m going to go to my room and do it now.”

  17. Peg, I about choked on my own spit reading that. That’s really, really funny.

    Ha, it just occurs to me that none of my male readers will ever be able to ask themselves “Why does she take so long in the shower? What is she doing in there?” without thinking of this thread. Yep, we’re all in there getting it on with the plumbing.

  18. Woody Allen’s comment about masturbation from “Annie Hall” was right on! In another movie (“Manhattan” I think) when Diane Keaton made a rude comment about his masturbating, Woody whined “You’re always criticizing my hobbies!” You da man Woody! Nice to see people talking about one of my favorite activities for over 50 years (really!) Cheers!

  19. Not to toot my own horn, but I’m really good at it. I wonder if there could be some sort of competition scheduled and sponsored by Tiny Cat Pants…

  20. You know, when I was seven or eight years old, I discovered two things that I figured were going to make my fortune when I grew up and taught the world how cool they were. One was chewing ice cubes – yes, I really thought I had invented the practice – and the other was masturbation.

    Alas, I neglected to patent either one, and now, I remain shy of a fortune.

  21. Hee! I loved this post. And it’s so funny – my daughter had her first day off alone (baby at sitters) and realized she could do whatever she wanted for the whole day! Her first choice? You guessed it! I cracked up when she proudly told me. Gotta love that girl.

    My hubs is sadly not for the “hands on” experience. So sad for him.

  22. I don’t know, though, Steve, if Cingular can try to patent the emoticons, why can’t you try to patent masturbation? It’s worth a shot. I don’t think there’s a law against filing frivolous patent applications… yet.

  23. Wow. I just wanted to tell you this is one of the funniest things I’ve read and I can’t help giggle every time I read the line “you let the water flow over your cooter until you orgasm”!
    I’m really enjoying your other posts too, you always have something interesting to say!

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