“After loss of Identity, the most potent modern terror, is loss of sexuality, or, as Descartes didn’t say, “I fuck therefore I am”.”
― Jeanette Winterson, Art & Lies: A Piece for Three Voices and a Bawd
The first time I ever walked into an adult toy store/theater I was going for an interview to be a “girl behind the glass”, I use the quotations because I can’t find a term that really describes pretending to masturbate behind bullet-proof glass. Anyhow, while waiting for my interviewer I began slowly walking around the store inspecting the overstocked shelves. Glancing over at the prepackaged sex kits, enormous dildo’s, and vast collection of video’s. I was in the middle of the most intense sensory overload I’d ever had. Luckily, before I got too deep in my investigation she called for me to start my interview.
Once I got the job I would explore the store between clients and if there was something I didn’t know about I would ask the guys who were working the front counter. It was enlightening to be in a place where talking about sex was acceptable, encouraged, and normal. My whole life I found sex interesting but it wasn’t until I was a teenager that I could talk openly about it. When I got with my ex sex was okay to talk about but my kinks were not something that were a priority. To be in a place where sex was the only thing being talked about, being done, or being encouraged was freeing. A couple weeks into working there I decided to bring home some new lube and he flipped his shit. All of the sudden I was a whore, I was a slut, and I was clearly cheating on him.
The thing about my personality is this; if someone accuses me of sleeping around and I am not in fact then somewhere in my brain a switch flips and I suddenly want to. The next day I went to work, took care of a few clients, and walked over to the theater area of the store. I walked into one of the theaters and was greeted with 15 or so guys all masturbating to a girl-on-girl scene. I had never seen a man jerking off up until this point and here I was watching many, many men doing so. I was enamored and disgusted all at once. One of the guys who had become a regular beckoned me over mid-stroke and I made my way to him. He was a good-looking, 40-something, business man who had an amazing sense of humor. He asked if I would sit next to him and just watch with no pressure to participate. At first, I didn’t know what he meant but then I began looking around closely then I noticed that there were 3-ways and 4-ways with a multitude of variations.
Once I realized what was going on around me I became intensely aroused and the urge to participate consumed me. I was scantily dressed as is so it was quite easy to start masturbating and before long my regular customer began to join in. Within a short amount of time there were bodies and hands everywhere. The sounds of people climaxing added to the excitement, the moaning of the two girls on screen was erotic, and not knowing whose hands and fingers were where was a sensory overload. Someone whispered in my ear that I had a client waiting for me in the back, the moans of disappointment was an added boost to my excitement. I adjusted my outfit and pattered out of the theater and down to the office to talk to my potential client.
I enjoyed the idea of the “work” that I did but the pay was shit and the conditions that we worked under were less than ideal, to say the least. I was happy to lose the job because every day that I worked there brought me closer to feeling out of control. It was like this whole other part of me was awakened and it terrified me. Mostly because I knew that the boyfriend was less than accepting of things that were not the “norm” but also because he was not into sexual freedom and all that it entailed. To me my sexual freedom was not as important as keeping him happy, un-threatened, secure in his manhood. So I walked away with some experience under my belt, a few memories, and a bottle of top shelf lube as memorabilia.
When I finally left that job it was never spoken about; it was a “hot button issue” for him. After that time we never went into a toy shop together, talking about sex was limited to the bedroom, and god forbid I even acknowledge an adult store while out and about. The irony is that it was okay for him to suggest watching porn and then ignoring me while I was giving him head. With most guys who watch porn with their women, they start the movie together and then the movie becomes the background to them fucking their partner. With him I was the surrogate body to what he was watching; my mouth was there to mimic what the woman on the screen was doing, I no longer existed. I am pretty sure that is why I have such a hard time watching anything that is intimate with my fiance, that fear of just being the catalyst to his own pleasure.
It wasn’t until I was 26 that I stepped foot again into a porn shop. I walked hand-in-hand with my now fiance shortly after getting together and it was freeing. Don’t get me wrong it felt awkward talking to him about the size, shape, and vibration abilities of the different toys. He freely let me look around and talk about the things that interested me. There were no judgments. There was nothing taboo. The world was my oyster and however I wanted to orgasm was up for discussion. We walked out that night with a purple Doc Johnson rabbit and that night he had a lot of good fun using it. Last summer I had to go into an adult store by myself for the first time in over a decade. I had been masturbating and seemingly broke its shaft, I mean it was still intact but it would not power up anymore. I was very, very, very upset about this. After much whining the man agreed that I needed to get a replacement. At the time I was not licensed to drive, so with the kids in tow he headed for the local shop. The store front was quite discreet but he still parked at an angle so that they couldn’t see the ads on the front door.
I walked into the quaint little store and behind the counter sat a bubbly voiced, tattooed woman in her mid-20’s. She was not intrusive in the least but instead would ask every once in a while if I would like some help finding something specific. I went from one area to the next seeing what new things there were and trying not to die from the sticker shock. The one toy I wanted was $300 and I just could not calculate how many orgasms it would take to pay it off, HAHAHA! Instead I found one that was reasonably priced enough that I didn’t feel bad about and sidled up to the counter. It was awkward at first when we began comparing and contrasting all the benefits of the toy I had versus the high priced one. In the end we sat there talking about a multitude of new products that were new on the market and before long I realized my entire family was sitting outside waiting for me. I hurried my conversation and rushed out the door.
I am ever so grateful for my partners ability to not shame me about my sexuality, kinks, and whims. To this day he lets me explore who I am, as I grow and shed the layers of years of oppression. Well within reason (wink, wink). It can be a very freeing experience to explore who and what you are. As I age, I am realizing that I deprived myself of that growth as a young adult and am looking forward to my second revolution of my sexual appetite. I hear it is in my 40’s and 50’s when I should really come into my prime. What are your thoughts? Please share your thoughts if you are in or have already passed this point.
Izzy
Tangled Love Web 