How Virgie Got Her Nut Back

Alright. I’ve heard some recent sinister gossip that the hitachi causes loss of sensitivity. However, I am dubious. Thoughts?

Few people text in complete sentences, but Vanessa does. Vanessa is a feminist. Vanessa “ even after years of being out of our radically pro-cunt circle of UC Berkeley pseudo dykes “ still uses the phrase “patriarchal bullshit. I really like this about Vanessa.

“Hmm. I can’t speak for all, but I might sadly have to corroborate this gossip, was my response. I thoughtfully violate grammatical mandates on things like split infinitives, but appreciate texting out polysyllabic words.

“I dunno, Virg. I think it sounds like some sex negative patriarchal bullshit to me. I would tend to agree that most things said about female masturbation are dirty lies, but my hitachi story was complicated.

This textversation happened about six months ago, but the story starts before that:

I’m in one of those only-in-the-21st-century international commuting relationships. He is a kiwi, that is a New Zealander. I’m a San Franciscan. My gently kinky partner, Sam, got me my very first Hitachi Magic Wand during a Christmas visit in 2009. It was known all over the land that I had been a long-time vibrator skeptic. I just didn’t “get it, and if pressed might admit that I was a bit of a naively pompous masturbation purist: my hand was all I needed. This dates back to having been a fetishist with hasty, low-tech needs. You use what you’ve got when you’re a compulsive masturbating child whose deepest erotic desires were set off by the ever-(at least partially) visible female breast. No, I couldn’t even be the girl who used her tooth brush as an orgasmic aid because I needed to be able to cum in the bathroom at the Chinese restaurant where we ate lunch after church on Sundays. Sunday “ for some reason “ was my big masturbation day. I presume that it was the same ironic impulse that always makes you do the exact thing you told yourself to definitely not do.

After years of hasty hand jobs, I simply found vibrators cumbersome and awkward. I didn’t understand them. Did you hump them? Did they hump you? How did these things help women cum? The only reason I even had one was because an adult shop owner in San Francisco threw a free pale peach dildo/vibrator in my black bag of VHS clearance porn once. He was really old and it seemed like an utterly well-intended, oddly non-sexual gesture. It was like when they accidentally give you fries you didn’t order and they just let you keep them because it’s no skin off their ass.

It took me twice as long to cum with the thing. So, it didn’t get any play after I deemed it a failure.

Years and years passed until one day when I was packing for a trip, this little voice said: pack the vibe. I don’t know if this is unusual, but this is the same voice that has always ushered in sexual boons for me. This is the same voice that told me that putting the edge of a bar of soap up my ass would feel really good (though it did not tell me that it would give me some way painful burning sensations that would disallow sitting for several hours); this was the same voice that told me to try some dick again after years of being penetration-neutral. I listened to the voice because she always had some freaky, delightful shit to proffer. And the voice was right again. On that trip, I came really hard with the vibrator I’d given up on so long ago.

So, by the time Christmas 2009 happened, I was ready to receive my Hitachi with an open heart and a vagina whose mind had been changed. I quickly came to see that the Hitachi was indeed the cadillac of vibrators and that my pussy really could do magical things with its help. 2010 was like a second puberty for my pussy. I was turning out orgasms with the shuddering zeal of a queen at Bloomies. The longest time apart we’d had was a week-long trip to Tokyo. Otherwise, I took that hitachi with me to Texas and Colorado, to Georgia and Louisiana. Beyond that my hitachi was never, ever unplugged and was never farther than arm’s length¦ until December 5 when I packed up my hitachi and my international converter, and we headed to New Zealand for seven weeks.

I wasn’t entirely sure that the hitachi “ being a true voltage heavy hitter “ would work with the international converter in New Zealand. I had my doubts to be completely honest because I just didn’t see New Zealand as a place where my hitachi could live, let alone thrive. Yes, it’s true that nearly every inch of NZ is breathtaking and bucolic, but everything in NZ is also a little quainter and quieter than home. People don’t wear cheetah print really, and a place without cheetah print couldn’t possibly have a hitachi-compatible voltage system, I just knew it.

And I was right. We plugged it in. It gave an anemic jolt of momentary life and quickly died. We tried again. Nothing. Nothing! We went shopping. They don’t even sell them in New Zealand. We had a back-up. A little red vibrator about the length of my finger with different detachable little heads. I nearly cried because it took me over an hour to cum with it. Oh. My. God. This was it. The gossip was really, really true. I had sinned against the natural order by having this many great, mechanically-assisted nuts. I kept trying. And then I was too disheartened, and stopped trying. Then I tried again.

It took 4 weeks to get my nut back in full force. Four weeks before my brain and my clitoris registered that this was a new, different kind of stimulation and that orgasm access could be granted nonetheless.

So, my story ends with that. I thought I’d lost my orgasm, but I hadn’t. The world tells me that orgasms are bad, and that girls who have lots of them are a bigger threat to civilization than fascism. But I know better. Vanessa was right. That was some patriarchal bullshit.

My magical pussy can do anything.


Editor’s Note:

The electric vibrators we carry are manufactured for North American electricity standards (120 V, 60 Hz) and may not be compatible with electricity standards for other regions. Even with voltage adapters, some electric toys may still not function and become damaged. We recommend choosing a battery vibrator instead.

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Virgie Tovar

Virgie Tovar is the author/editor of the upcoming fat positive anthology Hot &Heavy: Fierce Fat Girls on Life, Love and Fashion (Seal Press, November 2012). She holds an MA in Human Sexuality, is certified as a sex educator, and was voted Best Sex Writer by the Bay Area Guardian in 2008 for her first book, Destination DD: Adventures of a Brest Fetishist with 40DDs. After teaching Female Sexuality at UC Berkeley she went onto host The Virgie Show (CBS Radio) from 2007-2008. When she’s not teaching sexuality seminars or shimmying as her burlesque alter ego, Dulce de Lecherous, she is creating content for her video blog: Virgie Tovar’s Guide to Fat Girl Living. Virgie has been featured on Playboy Radio and Women’s Entertainment Television. She lives in San Francisco.

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