By Walker Thornton of A Woman’s Page
Iím thinking about writing a letter to my best friend, to be opened upon my death. Iíd beg her to rush over to my house and find my growing stash of erotica and sex toys so she can destroy them before my sons started rummaging through my stuff. †As it is now, my son wonít go in my bathroom to get a Q-tip without asking first. Whatís he afraid of finding? Well, there is the home pregnancy kit I bought last winter, it came in a package of two. (Donít even ask.) Thereís a 4-pack of Summerís Eve douches, a few odd condoms strewn around, and my diaphragm. Oh yeah, and scented massage oil and lubricant. Whatís the problem, I ask you?
In the bedroom, secreted behind my everyday undies, are some of my Ďtoysí. Nothing too shocking. Iíve had a fairly vanilla sex life for most of my years. No gags or studded items. No leather, strappy things, or whips. And the books? Well, they could be considered writing material, research. I donít own The Story of ďOĒor any terribly salacious reading materials. My collection is mostly erotica, written by women for women. Some of it is openly displayed on the shelf by my desk. I guess theyíll have to be moved once my granddaughter is old enough to read the titles.
But–Iím not finished expanding my horizons yet, and who knows what will be added to my stash in the upcoming years. Iíve just become an affiliate for Babeland, a sex toy website, which means I get a small percentage when readers link to that site and buy something via†my blog, A Womanís Page
It also means that I can request a toy to try out and review for them. Iíd have to write a fairly detailed review of my chosen toy, and thatís the hold-up for me. I donít want to talk in real detail about my sexual stuff, not when Iím blogging under my real name. Itís one thing to say cute things like, ďItís small and discreet enough to carry in your purse.Ē Or ďthe vibrations are just strong enough to send nice sensations through your body.Ē Subtle, but useful tidbits for the prospective customer: those comments I have been able to say comfortably. Itís the other more explicit information that I canít bring myself to write about from a personal perspective. The this-went-where kinda stuff.
I †do want to do a toy review, however. †Iím dying to try the finger vibrators. They look so cool, and Iím intrigued by how small the batteries must be, or is there a cord? Imagine having little vibrations on several fingers that you can use in various places! I can only fantasize about their utility. I mentioned the little finger vibrators to my stitching group the other day. † A couple of them blushed, and the ensuing silence was a tad uncomfortable. †I thought it was pretty funny. Címon. Weíre adults. My god, Iíll be 56 next month. If I want to talk about sex toys, I think Iíve earned that privilege. Can you imagine when Iím 85 and exhibiting even less restraint? ďWatch out, for the dirty little old lady over in the corner. She must have been a wild thing when she was younger.Ē
I worry about things I shouldnít. Dying with my sex toys still around is one of those things. When Iím dead and gone, I wonít really know or care how my sons react. They wonít die from embarrassment, and Iíll already be dead, so maybe itíll be an enlightening moment for them? But just in case. Sue, if youíre reading: there is another little goodie behind the fourth shoebox on the top right of my closet. Iíd like to be buried with that one.