I remember having a conversation in school, at the age of 13-ish, with one of my girl friends and three of my guy friends, that went a little something like this:
Guy 1: I wanked, like, three times last night.
Guy 2: Yeah, well I wanked at least five times the other day.
Guy 3: Did you hear about Rufus*? He wanked THIRTEEN times in one day!
Girlfriend: OMG. That is such a lie! No way!! Omg. Stop talking about this.
Guy 2: Well, how often do you guys… y’know?… do it?
Me: AT LEAST twice a day. At the very least. The utmost least.
Chorus of Guys: OMGGGG NOOOOO WAY!!!!!! *gobsmacked expressions all round*
*Name changed to protect individual. Not sure if he still deems this an accolade or if he’s, ahem, beaten his personal best. Pretty sure rumours spread that by the tenth wank, nothing came out but come dust.
Did I want to appear overtly sexual? Definitely. Was it the truth? Absolutely not. Did I want the boys to have a monopoly on masturbation? Absolutely not. Because, from such a young age, girls just aren’t taught to explore that side of themselves; nay, that part of themselves. We’re shown our anatomy in salmon pink illustrations from a science textbook and then shown what society expects to come out of it later in life. (Babies, I’m talking ’bout babies.) But we’re taught nothing of female sexuality. We aren’t told that the clit is the pleasure centre of the universe, or that the asshole is remarkably recreational (although this isn’t strictly female-classified info; we’ve all got potentially pleasure-producing assholes). We aren’t told that porn isn’t just a dude thing. We are, however, spontaneously and unwelcomely bent over tables in class as some tosser simulates ‘doing us up the ass’, because boys are watching porn and think this is a totally acceptable thing to do to a thirteen year-old girl. It isn’t.
As we grow up, we see male sexuality celebrated and egged-on as female sexuality becomes, at first, background noise and then… no noise at all. Guys openly talk about wanking. They exchange URLs of the best porn sites. They talk about which women they wank over. They guffaw over the latest porn-star to tickle their pickle. They ROFL as Dave reels off his record number of wanks, and then heartily congratulate him for his dedication to the cause. They talk about sex or, at least, their rampant desire to *have* sex. And the more they talked, the less we talked… until we stopped talking altogether. Silence.
The same objects of desire they were so desperately scrambling towards were the same ones who felt like they had no place in the sexual arena. We had all the gear and no idea. Curiosity over the organ between their legs drove the guys to tug decidedly at it until something happened, and everyone around them just expected and accepted this progression as part of their puberty. These guys had now been servicing themselves for years already and, so far, all we’d done is checked out what our nether-regions looked like in the magnifying mirror. And you know how they looked? Confusing. Really fucking confusing. A lot of bits and bobs and no idea what to do with any of it.
Cue me staring perplexingly into the magnifying mirror: “I mean, what do I do? Do I furiously rub it? Do I put something up it? Do I flick it? Do I pick it? Do I do all those things at once? And what on earth do I think of while I’m doing it? Do I watch something? Do I think of someone? All the boys in school look less Brad Pitt, more Brad Shit. Less *NSync, more Out Of Sync. Less Take That, more Take Twat (I could play this game for hours). There’s no wank material for me in the confines of academia. LORD HELP ME. I HAVE A VAGINA AND I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO FUCKING IDEA HOW TO WORK IT.” And so begins the laborious journey of learning how to pleasure ourselves… A journey the guys graduated in (with honours!!) years earlier.
Agreeably, the teens of today are far more sexually insightful. The internet, and the wealth of porny info that comes with it, has provided the pre and post-pubescent among us with terminology that far exceeds my vocabulary offerings. We’re much more open about sex than we were ten years ago, but that doesn’t mean that female sexuality is as exalted as male sexuality. We’re still sexual second-class citizens: porn is still targeted towards guys; female masturbation still isn’t readily discussed and young girls are, frequently, predisposed to thinking that their sexuality is, at best, secondary and, at worst, shameful.
My advice to all the laydeez out there? WANK! Wank hard! Wank fast! Wank slow! Wank sensually! Wank as much as you please! Wank over porn! – And do we wank over porn! WE DO! As much as on-screen nookie is clearly made for men (and clearly a far cry from what sex looks like, feels like and sounds like IRL… but that’s a beefy topic for another day), it doesn’t stop women being the most likely to search sites for ‘hardcore’, ‘gang bang’, ‘rough sex’ and ‘double penetration’. Research also shows that we enjoy a thorough browse of the ‘squirting’ category. (My theory on this is that we really enjoy seeing other women ENJOYING sex, even if the outcome is mostly urine and largely fabricated. Either that or we’re just endlessly fascinated by the mechanics of squirting. Both are plausible.) Wank over Channing Tatum’s rhythmically perfect floor-humping in Magic Mike! Wank over Rihanna’s rhythmically perfect floor-humping in BBHMM! Buy a dildo! Buy a vibrator! Buy some love eggs and spend the day in giddy bliss as you roll around the mall and they roll around your insides! Read some erotic literature! (Which, admittedly, doesn’t sound sexy but definitely has horn-producing capabilities. Trust me on that one.) Figure out what turns you on and what gets you off! Don’t be afraid to be vocal in the bedroom! Ask for what you want and be loud about what you don’t want! Be at one with your bod and your sexuality! (I’m starting to sound like a Sex Ed teacher now, aren’t I?) And finally, revel in the glorious realisation that unholy heights of pleasure are forever only an arms-length away.
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