Women
wank. Shocking, I know, but we do; we have yearnings and desires and
fantasies which we are sometimes overcome with and the need to get
ours, to be satisfied immediately, and yeah sometimes the only way in
which to achieve this magical feeling is to do it our damn selves. No
judgement.
Here’s
the thing: men masturbating is normal. It’s expected. Boys get to
that age when they start feeling things in the downstairs department,
and they have to take care of it themselves. We all know this.
A
lot of sitcoms have thrived off this very normal natural concept. For
instance, teenage boy Rory in ‘8 Simple Rules’ getting
his first erection in a women’s fitness class in one episode,
talking to his grandpa about constant horny feelings in another and
jacking off to a Victoria’s Secret catalogue in the downstairs
bathroom (where he was promptly caught by his school principal, cue
the canned laughter) in another.
Or
‘How I Met Your Mother’ and its endless jokey
references to Ted being lonely and having to get himself off most
nights while his married and man-whore friends get laid left, right
and centre.
Or
the very British ‘My Family’, with youngest teen
Michael Harper constantly locking himself away in his attic room with
lad mags he would steal from his older brother…or worse, his Dad.
Same
with films; most comedy flicks cannot resist a good wank joke, it’s
basically a staple these days. I mean, ‘American Pie’,
hello?!
However,
sometimes films go one step further and make it that much worse. Some
films imply not only that boys are constantly doing themselves, but
that girls…don’t. That they can’t.
The
2006 film ‘It’s A Boy Girl Thing’ features a girl
waking up in a guy’s body with a raging boner…and not knowing
what the heck to do with it. Firstly, that’s just odd because it
implies she hasn’t learned what an erection is or why it happens,
and that would mean she’s had no Sex Ed lessons at school.
Secondly, it suggests that she wouldn’t have a clue how to pleasure
herself.
That’s just incorrect and awful. The character Nell was
harmless and girly, destined for Yale and determined to steer clear
of bad boys. But c’mon, she was not that naïve.
I
first discovered that I could get mine myself (after having a few
guys try and fail) when I was eighteen. Late bloomer, I know.
Well,
I was once tempted to when I was fifteen and sat watching my
secondary school’s shameful budget production of Grease:
The Musical; more specifically, I was watching the teeny hint of
that lower tummy V-shape showing on the school heartthrob, playing
Kenickie, as he sang “you’re burnin’ up the quarter mile…”
and thrust his hips while standing on the bonnet of a cardboard
cut-out car…wow.
Anyway,
I suppose the idea of wanking had always seemed a little too crazy to
me; the idea had always made me flustered and even a little fearful.
I was totally 100% ready to have sex when I turned sixteen, before
that even, but having a little fiddle with myself always seemed a
little…extreme.
How
wrong I was! After ending things with my disgraceful moronic friend
with benefits ,who happened to be the first guy to ever give me mine
on every occasion (thank you, dickhead), and finding myself with no
future prospective partners, I decided to literally take matters into
my own hands. It took a while but eventually I was a pro. I mastered
masturbating. I might put that on my CV.
It
changed things for me massively; for instance, every disastrous
hook-up I had after that wasn’t as bad because I knew I could
rectify my unsatisfied situation if need be. Also I found it so
relaxing – when I was stressing over my dissertation, nothing
relieved the tension quite like a nice solo she-bop. It also sends
you off to sleep sometimes. Or gets you going in the morning…
Anyway,
this post is not all about the phenomenon of female masturbation.
It’s also about the dire need to normalize it.
I
mean, women have one specific part of their downstairs equipment that
is designed purely for pleasure. The clitoris
contains about 8,000 nerve endings –
that’s twice as many as there are in the penis. Plus way more than
in your fingertips, your lips, or your tongue. Whoa. Why waste that?!
Some
men will be totally flummoxed or just plain disgusted to hear that
their female partner masturbates. I know some friends of mine ended
their relationships because their boyfriends couldn’t handle the
fact that they handled themselves sometimes. One friend even said her
boyfriend felt “grossed out”. Another said her boyf had felt
“humiliated”, that he “couldn’t satisfy her enough”. Yet,
surely women know and accept the fact that their boyfriends will
often have a casual tug on their own…because that’s seen as
normal! *growls frustratedly*
I
like to think we are headed in the right direction in this subject –
for instance, I remember being at college, when shopping in Ann
Summers was scandalous and taboo. Nowadays, it’s fairly casual and
seen as ‘a bit of fun’. I am amazed that Ann Summers products
still arrive in ‘discreet packaging’ and that they offer plain
shopper bags to customers when they are out and about, to avoid
embarrassment…what’s that about? I mean, I understand if you’re
living with your parents, maybe getting a huge parcel with Ann
Summers plastered on it could be a little awkward, but you definitely
shouldn’t be ashamed to walk around your local shopping center with
a saucy hot pink shopping bag.
Women
should be excited and proud of their wants and desires. Women don’t
need to be closeted masturbators or branded ‘nymphomaniac freaks’
for actually enjoying sex. Women shouldn’t be afraid of their own
sexuality. Period. Ooh speaking of which, periods…no, I’ll leave
that for now. Another time, maybe...
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