by Meghan Quinn
“Oh God, this is weird,” I spoke to no one, as I made little in and out thrusts with the bullet. “This should really be bigger; I can barely get it in there.”
I continued to make little insertions. I could only think about what my vagina must be thinking right now, as if I was trying to play whack a mole with it. I started to giggle as I thought about winning the game against my vagina.
I found it easier to insert as the vibrations started to grow on me. I wondered if it was because I was starting to get turned on. Was I wet downstairs? It was quite slick, was I turning myself on? The mere thought made me shudder. I’d never masturbated before, so I had no clue what to expect when it came to feeling up my own vagina. Was I doing it right?
I didn’t think I was because the bullet barely went inside.
I wonder…
Taking a deep breath, I pressed the bullet all the way inside of my vagina, until I felt it was fully inserted. Instantly a sweat started to break out along my skin from the vibration inside my vaginal canal.
“Oh, sweet Jesus,” I said, as my hands started to grip my bed sheets.
The bullet not only vibrated continuously, but it also pulsed in different patterns that my vagina was starting to memorize and tense up with each shock from the bullet, to the point that I started to feel uncomfortable.
Wanting to go back to my mini thrusts, I went to grab the bullet from my vagina, but was stopped when I couldn’t even feel it because it was too far up.
“Oh, my God!” I sat up in fear as my vagina started to contract from the sensations.
Panic washed over me as I went to try to grab it again, this time, trying to push it out using my vaginal muscles, but all that happened was a threat of pushing something else out, so I stopped immediately and looked around my room for something to help me.
On my desk, next to my bed, was a ruler which I grabbed and eyed the sharp edges. No, I wasn’t ready to gouge the damn thing out, so I put down the ruler and looked around my room some more, all the while continuing to panic over the lodged vibrator in my pleasure hole.
Maybe there were forceps in the gift bag or instructions, I thought, as I reached down just as a pulse ran up my spine from the bullet.
“Mother of pearl!” I screeched as I fell to the floor, scrambling around for the bag. I tipped it upside down, but nothing came out. “Damn it,” I swore as another pulse shook my entire uterus.
Sweat continued to form on my skin, as I thought about the consequences of having a vibrator stuck in my vagina; this could not be happening. I was not about to go to the doctor to have him pull a vibrator out of me, so I stood up, lifted my shirt up so I could look at what I was doing and spread my legs like a Sumo wrestler.
“Come on, you little bitch,” I swore, as I jumped up and down in my squatted position, trying to spread my legs as much as possible, wishing my vagina would stop contracting around the damn thing.
“Please come out!” I said, as I jumped harder while staring down into my southern region wishing for the damn thing to release.
More sweat trickled down my back while the sensation of the pulses kept running through me, while the pure fear of having a permanent vibrator stuck in my vag crossed my mind.
Just as I was making one last giant jump, my door flew open and Delaney walked in.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” she asked, as she stopped in the doorway and looked at me with shock.
I stood in the middle of my room, my shirt up around my waist and my naked torso shown for all to see. I was about to yell at her to get out of my room when the bullet that was once lodged in my vagina clunked to the floor and rolled toward Delaney, thanks to the old uneven floor only a New York City apartment could offer.
We stood in silence as Delaney stopped the bullet with her shoe and then looked back up at me.
Her lips twitched as she studied the scene unfolding in front of her. “Was that stuck in your vagina?”
I quickly put my shirt down and smoothed it out so I was properly covered before I began speaking.
“It’s rude to enter someone’s room without knocking.”
“Excuse me for wondering what kind of elephant stampede you had going on in here. If only I had known you were trying to remove a vibrator from your vagina, I would have given you more privacy.”
Heated embarrassment went straight to my face, turning it completely red.
“It’s Henry’s fault,” I blamed. “He didn’t give me a long enough one.”
“What are you talking about?” Delaney asked, as she grabbed a tissue off of my dresser and picked up the vibrator. “He gave you a bullet.”
“Because I’m a virgin, I know,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“What? No. Do you know what a bullet vibrator is, Rosie?”
I was about to answer, when I closed my mouth and thought about it for a second. I actually didn’t know what it was. I just guessed.
“A vibrator for someone who hasn’t broken their hymen yet?”
A twisted look of disgust crossed Delaney’s face as she studied me.
“You can say hymen, but pussy is disgusting to you?”
“It’s a medical term, the p word is slang.”
Shaking her head at me, Delaney said, “I love you, Rosie, but you can be so naïve at times. A bullet is a clit stimulator, it doesn’t go in your vagina, it just plays between your valley.”
“You mean…it plays in my sweet lady folds?”
“Jesus, yes!” Delaney answered, while tossing the bullet on my bed. She started laughing and said, “I can’t believe you got it stuck in your vagina.” As if she just realized what she walked in on, she started laughing hysterically while gripping the doorway to my room. “You got it stuck in your vagina and were jumping up and down to get it out.” She slid to the ground and wiped tears from her eyes, while I folded my arms across my chest and waited for her to be done.
“How was I supposed to know?” I defended myself. “There were no instructions. Henry just told me to find my O. Who knew there was such a thing as a clit stimulator?”
“You would know if you ever went to sex shops with me.”
“Did you know those places are covered in semen? You know those sex video booths in the back? Yeah, they don’t have hand sanitizer. There is no way I would go in one of those places. You can practically get pregnant from sniffing the air.”
“Yes, I did read that in the headlines the other day. Sexually charged woman gets pregnant from breathing in too much sex shop.”
I studied Delaney for a second and said, “You and I both know that title is way too long for a headline.”
Delany got off the ground while laughing and shaking her head. “Seriously, Rosie, I’m proud of you for trying, but maybe ask next time before you start sticking things in your vagina. Could you imagine if we had to go to the hospital to get that thing removed, sitting in the hospital while you’re constantly getting vibrated? God, can you actually stick it back up there so we can see what happens in the waiting room. That would just make my night.”
“You can leave now,” I pointed.
“Alright, she held up her hands, but said before leaving, “By the way, I’m calling my wax specialist tomorrow; we’re getting you a Brazilian, girl, because that bush is not the least bit flattering.”
“Hey, I trim,” I said, while clenching my legs together.
“We want smooth, Rosie, not trimmed. Believe me, when you finally get a guy down there, you want to make sure things are as clean as possible.”
Another wave of embarrassment flashed through me at the thought of a guy being so intimate with me.
“And stop flushing every time I talk about sex. You have to own it, girl, be a sexual being. Start watching porn…that might help.”
“Okay, goodbye, Delaney.”
“Bye, Rosie. Make me proud and masturbate the right way, one hand on the tit and one on the clit.”
I shut my door on her as she laughed all the way to her
room. I looked at the tissue wrapped bullet on my bed and sneered at it. The damn thing knew exactly what I was doing and took advantage of me. I wouldn’t be going near that thing for a while. Stupid Henry.
Grabbing my notebook, I sat back down at my desk and continued to write in my journal.
June 2, 2014
I saw a couple making out on the subway today…Note to self, google sex toy objects before using them. Such rash actions may cause bodily harm and embarrassing trips to the hospital without the proper research being conducted first.
On another note, vibrators are not sized due to your sexual experience. Bullet vibrators are for clitoral stimulation, not virgins who still need to be de-flowered. Also, Virginia, aka my vagina, enjoyed the pulse option on the bullet, but did not like being viciously attacked by said stuck bullet, aka, the mini machine.
Chapter Three
Porn is Science
“Rosie, come on, please come here,” Henry said, calling me over to the couch. “I didn’t know you were going to get the vibrator stuck in your vagina,” he laughed on the last word.
“Why did you take the instructions?” I asked, while I reluctantly sat on the couch next to him and let him pull me into his embrace. I rested my head on him as his arm wrapped round my shoulders. “Oh, my God, was it used before?” I asked, looking up at him.
Laughing, he shook his head no, and said, “It came in plastic packaging, you know the kind you can never get open, and I knew if you saw it, you would never even attempt to open it, so I did that for you. It didn’t dawn on me to actually include the instructions. I just thought you already knew.”
“I know nothing,” I said, with shame in my voice.
“Chin up, Rosie. You’ll get there,” he squeezed me tighter.
“Thank you for the Kindle, though. I can’t wait to start reading.”
“Of course. I wish you would have told me about all this earlier. I would have been flaunting you all over school and at parties; we would have hooked you up.”
“I don’t think I could have handled a one night stand back then. I’m not as sexually charged as you and Delaney. I’m not comfortable in my skin like you two. I mean, you two walk outside and people just start humping your legs.”
“That’s not quite accurate, but I appreciate the compliment,” he said with a smile in his voice.
“Do you think I need to change my hair or clothes?”
Pulling away, he looked down at me and shook his head as he studied me with those pretty eyes of his.
“You’re perfect, Rosie. Don’t change a thing. You just need to have more confidence in yourself. Instead of cowering behind your books, maybe unbutton your top button and thrust your chest out, flip your hair to the side, and do a little flirting. You’re beautiful and you know it; own it, Rosie.”
“Thanks, Henry, but it’s harder for me.”
“Oh, I see, playing hard to get.” He nudged me, making me laugh.
“Yes, that’s it. I’m playing hard to get with every man on the planet for the past twenty three years.”
“Ambitious,” he laughed.
“Go big or go home,” I shrugged. We sat in silence for a second before I said, “I have a date on Friday.”
Squeezing my side, he said, “Seriously, that’s great. With who? Is it from the dating website?”
“No, I haven’t even looked at that thing yet. Do you remember Jenny from my office?”
“The one who’s dating that douche nugget, Drew?”
“Yeah, that’s her.”
“She could do so much better.”
I pulled away and studied him. “Are you saying you would want to get it on with Jenny?”
Laughing, Henry shook his head. “Get it on? You’re adorable, and no, she annoys the crap out of me. She’s gorgeous, though, but you know I like the little brunettes. I’m just holding out for you.”
“Are you trying to teach me how to flirt?”
“Is it working?” he winked.
“No,” I laughed, as I wrapped my arm back around his waist and snuggled closer. “Anyway, Drew has a friend named Atticus.”
“Atticus? Like from To Kill a Mockingbird?”
I paused as I thought about it. “You know, I never connected his name with a book. That makes it so much better.”
“Jesus,” he shook his head. “I should have kept my mouth shut.”
“Anyway,” I dragged on. “We’re all going swing dancing on Friday. I’m excited because I haven’t been swing dancing since college, but also a little nervous about actually going on a blind date.”
“You know I will go swing dancing with you. I am the best partner you will ever have. Remember the time I flipped you over my head and you lost your balance and landed ass first in the punch bowl?”
“How could I forget? My butt was stained red for days.”
“I miss swing dance club,” he said with a forlorn voice.
“Funny you say that, because our senior year you ditched me for your late night Friday booty calls, and that was the end of swing dancing for me.”
“Well, I was a dick back then,” he admitted. “If you ever want to go, just ask me.”
“Come on, Henry. You’re too busy on Friday nights to take me swing dancing.”
He genuinely made me look him in the eyes and said, “Rosie, you know I’m never too busy for you.”
He was my best friend, but he could still make my heart flutter; it was common when I was around him.
Giving him a side smile, I said, “Thanks, Henry, but I think this blind date might be good for me. Get me out there…and who knows where it might lead?”
“You looking for sex on the first night?” he asked, a bit astonished.
“Oh, my God, no. I think that would be a huge mistake, especially given my lodging of a vibrator in my vagina today.” That’s right, I said vagina. “I need to study up a bit before I jump right into it with a stranger. The only sex I know of is from books, and they make it seem so easy and wonderful. Is it really like that?”
“Depends,” Henry answered honestly. “You have to be with the right person who knows what they’re doing first. Some guys like to just plow you to get what they want, but a real man will make sure you’re satisfied before he is.”
“Does that come straight from the Henry Playboy Bible?”
“Damn straight,” he said, while leaning forward and grabbing the soda we were sharing from the coffee table. “You have to realize that your first time is going to be awkward; you won’t know where to put your hands or what to do when the sock that he’s trying to take off just won’t let up, so you wait for him to take it off while you lay there naked.” He handed me the soda and I finished it up, handing it back to him to set on the coffee table. “It’s going to hurt, Rosie. I won’t lie about that, and you’re going to bleed.”
“Wow, sounds like a pleasurable experience; I can’t believe I waited this long to participate.”
I knew sex wasn’t going to be great right off the bat, but now, thanks to Henry, I was really dreading it. What the hell was I supposed to tell the person who finally took my virginity? Sorry for the bloody mess, but did I forget to tell you I was a virgin? The whole process seemed overwhelming.
“Maybe I should wait until I’m in a serious relationship,” I thought out loud. “It seems like if I’m with someone, actually dating them, they would be more sensitive to my condition.”
“It’s not like you’re diseased or anything,” Henry laughed. “You’re a virgin, not a leper. Any guy in his right mind would respect the fact that you’ve saved yourself and would treat you with respect.”
“You really think so?”
“Yes, you just have to find the right guy first.”
“So, you think one night stands are out of the question right now?”
He cringed as he thought about my question. “Do I want you to be a virgin forever, now that I know you are? Well, yes, because that means you’re still innocent, you’re untouc
hed, my sweet Rosie, but if you must go to the dirty side,” he flashed me a grin, “Then I would prefer for you to be in a relationship.”
“And when did you become my dad?” I teased.
“Not your dad, just an overprotective and concerned best friend.” He ran his hand through his hair and said, “I don’t know, Rosie. Ever since Delaney said you were a virgin, I can’t stop thinking about how innocent you really are, and it’s pulled at my heartstrings. I love you the way you are; I don’t want you to change. I don’t want some dickhead coming in here and corrupting you. I like you for you who are now, just perfect.” It was cute how distraught he was. He gripped my chin and spoke earnestly as my pulse picked up at his proximity. Why did he have to smell so damn good? “You’re just so damn perfect,” he repeated.
Taking a steady breath, I said, “Thank you, Henry, but a part of me doesn’t like who I am. You and Delaney have these great jobs, and I’m stuck dodging hair balls and feral cats every day at work, wondering whether I’m going to get sprayed and claimed by Sir Licks-a-Lot. Ever since I can remember, I’ve been writing stories, and now that I’m out of college and have a chance to make something of myself, I’m not doing it. I want to write this book, finish it, and be proud of myself, but I’m kind of stuck when it comes to the whole sex part.”
“Then, why do you have to have sex in the book? It’s not a requirement.”
“No, it’s not, but when I read a book without sex, I feel like I’m missing that connection between the characters…call me a pervert, but I think sex in a book is not just about getting all hot and steamy. It’s about seeing the characters form this bond that is undeniable, you know?”
“I do, and believe me, the last thing I would call you is a pervert. Why don’t you try reading some of the new contemporary books I added to your kindle, rather than the stale ones your mom has sent your way?”
“I’ll start one tonight, but I still feel like I need to know what an orgasm feels like. What a penis looks like in real life in order to really do my books justice, you know? Writing from experience is always so much easier.”
