THE BUTTERFLY

This week's guest post comes from the Hotfessional herself - someone who is near and dear to my heart because a) she's hot and wears hot shoes; b) she's a professional woman juggling an ungodly amount of shit; and c) she is open about sex and life and has no problem telling someone to stuff it if they are an idiot. These are all admirable traits I can RELATE to, and I figured as Cookiebitch readers, you'd appreciate it too.

Being as Hot is a busy woman, however, I didn't feel right having her give me this fantastic guest post (which, by the way, is about a lovely device I also own and cherish) without doing something in return. So I wrote a guest post for her, as well - a rant about something professional hot women like us have to do all the time - hire people.

So go checkout Hotfessional, and while you are at it check out my guest post as well. It is one hot lovefest today, isn't it? I think I'm going to need to take a cold shower now!

(As always, if you would like to participate in GUEST POST SATURDAY'S on Cookiebitch, comment on this post, or send me an e-mail.)

XXX

I think I learned the fine art of masturbation when I was three or four years old.  Mom would put me down for a nap, but the only way I was going to fall asleep - in the middle of the afternoon, when there were so many more exciting things I could be doing - was if I felt THAT feeling.  Not that I knew that I was having an orgasm at the time, but I did know that balling up my blanket and rubbing on it made me all fluttery.  And tickly.  And then I could nap.

Mom caught on.  She must have heard the bed squeaking and assumed that I was playing trampoline performer.  She walked in on her darling pre-Kindergarten daughter and told me to "Stop that." (Personally, I thought that the sound my bed was making was awfully similar to the sound that her bed made when she and Daddy were wrestling, so why was she telling me to stop?  Geez.)

I continued masturbating (albeit more quietly).  All through Elementary School and Junior High.  But, it was a manual undertaking.  No electronic doodads or massagers were involved.  T'was just me, myself, and Ahhhhhhh.

In High School, the boyfriends were available for some heavy petting and rubbing around on.  And during the date-less periods (which, okay, were much more common that the weekends when my social calendar wasn't marked 'work'), the rubbing that I did was accompanied by fantasies about those boyfriends.  And didn't that make it all the more special? 

I got married, and married sex with the Practice Husband was good, but he was more interested in porn, and I was more interested in making a baby.  When the doctor told us that we weren't going to have any babies (together, anyway), it was the beginning of the end.  And sex?  Meh.  What was the fucking use?  (Get it?...yea, I know.  Sorry.)

When Mr. Hot and I met (in a Hardee's @ 8 a.m. – over coffee…swoon), we made out all over campus.  We were both married.  We were in his hometown.  Anyone could have seen us.  But oh mah holy hell.  I had so much new fodder for the alone-time fantasies.  Still, though, no toys.  Woe is me.

One day, years later, I got home and there was a package waiting for me.  A gift from Mr. Hot!  We'd gotten married, had a child, moved north, and had gotten to the point of 'married sex'.  Don't get me wrong.  I adore married sex – (I better, it's the ONLY kind I have anymore) – and it's good and he's a wonderful, thoughtful lover.  But, if I were to be completely honest, I'm just not that interested much of the time.  I get up early, I work all day.  I get tired, I get cranky, and I have to do it all over again the next day.  I need a little more time to warm up to the idea of sex than I used to.

So, this package?  Was my very first toy.  The Butterfly.  When everything is positioned, just so, the butterfly flutters right in the perfect spot.  And I get all nice and warmed up.  I've gotten more toys since then, the thin one, the one with the unicorn, the little teeny-tiny one that you wear like a ring, the red one -  but when I pull The Butterfly out of it's special little home in my drawer, I know that I will sleep well.  Just like napping when I was a little girl.

Comments

[Kelley]

It has a remote!!!!!!! Well I can guarantee that MPS would get me one if it came with a remote.

[Miss J]

Thank you for making me feel I'm not all alone in the early masturbation thing. My mother caught me giggling in the tub, legs up and and warm water running over my naughty bits when I was three.

All hail my mother. She didn't freak out and give me a complex. She just fished me out of the tub, put clothes on me, and distracted me with some other activity.

[Veronica]

Like Kelley said, it has a remote! WOOO

I want one too now.

I was a later starter, I think I was probably 10-ish?

[Ree]

Miss J - Hail your mum indeed.

Kelley - Actually, that's not the same Butterfly in the picture. This is mine -

http://www.edenfantasys.com/vibrators/rabbit-vibrators/silicone-beaded-butterfly

Ack. I'm blushing again.

[witchypoo]

That was called masturbation? I called it a sleep aid. Really.

[tigerlilly]

Witchypoo--I STILL call it a sleep aid! When you're mind is racing and you can't get into the sleepzone, it's a sure fire rememdy. Works a treat!

Veronica--I was a late starter too, around the 10 mark. Which sadly was a waste of those early years! lol

It kills me how some people today are STILL redfaced whenever the subject is brought up. As well as the number of people who deny doing it. I'm a firm believer that if you deny it, you're more than likely just lying. I don't mean to say that every single person does it, but let's face it: the vast majority DO. There is no need to be embarassed about it; it's perfectly normal, and in this day and age, it's the only safe sex--STD free and 100% effective against unplanned pregnancy, and you get exactly what you're after which alleviates disappointment and possibly emotional issues that can result when you include someone else. Even Ann Landers sang it's praises and encouraged her teenaged readers to take up the habit rather than have sex that they weren't educated about or prepared for.

According to old wives tales (or whatever you want to call them), I should be wonderin around with a stick, begging for alms for the poor, holding out my tin cup with hands that would scare off the Wolfman.
However, I've still got really good vision in both eyes and my palms have remained blissfully hair free.

Cheers!

[Hyphen Mama]

OH! I was just mourning the tragic, senseless death of my favorite vibrator this weekend and went online to find a suitable replacement and here you show me a bea-U-tiful little ditty that I think I'd really like to add to the collection. Good timing!

[Gypsy]

My earliest memory of that glorious feeling down under was one day in class. I think it was Grade 2 so I would have been about 7. I realised that if I squeezed my legs together "just so" it would prolong that wonderful throbbing. Ahhh...childhood memories.

[Ree]

HyphenMama - so glad to help! ;-)

Gypsy - I knew we were soul sisters.

[Dawn]

a remote? dude.

[Daisy]

I've heard the Wolf is the best in the world, but have yet to try it. The Typhoon will have to make do for now.

[zoe]

only the hotfessional can make a vibrator story sweet.

[Lys]

My mother got all indignant and huffy but whatever...

As for various toys, there's nothing wrong with it and I agree with Tigerlily! My ex-fiancee felt a tad threatened by any toy - my response - if you were doing it right, then we wouldn't be having this discussion. Arg!