Please note that this story is going to be very broken up due to editorial comments, which are in italics. Bear with me! 🙂
So a girlfriend of mine calls me today to tell me a funny / horrifying story.
Well, funny to me – horrifying for her.
Once or twice a year (!) she pulls out a toy to play with.
And the rest of the year, she… what? Uses her hand? The shower massage? Closes her eyes and prays for that naughty feeling to go away? I left that alone at the time, but I think we’ll have to pursue that topic at a later date. And for her, that probably means after a few beers. 😉
And last night was one of those nights. After she was done, she was tired, so instead of putting it right back away like she usually does…
The woman’s got much better control than I do. Of course you’re sleepy right after! That’s the whole frickin point, many a night.
And then she got busy today, and forgot to put it back, and left to do some errands. Came home to find the cleaning lady was already in the house, working. And was horrified. Ran up the stairs double-time to get to her room before the cleaning lady found the terribly embarassing sex toy that she’d inadvertently left out. Luckily…
She said that part with such a sigh of relief it was all I could do not to laugh out loud.
The cleaning lady hadn’t yet entered the room, and she managed to get in there and put the toy back before cleaning commenced.
*laughs*
Perhaps it’s just me, but I really don’t understand the horrifying deal. Sure, perhaps a little awkward, but it’s not like she left her 200K stash of heroin laying around or was in the middle of an orgy when the cleaning lady showed up. It’s just a sex toy, folks. 😉
But then, I’ve always been a little different about these things. There was a time not so long ago when I had an entire surface of my bedroom devoted to sex paraphernalia, like a little shrine to lubricious goodness. Butt plugs, vibes, lubes (both edible and non), condoms and ben-wa balls had their own place on the shelf. And really, I only ever entertained sex partners in that room anyway, so it was all good.
In time, of course, I began to have two problems.
1) Lack of available surface space in my bedroom.
2) Growing cache of sex toys.
So, the shelf became a drawer, and then in time that also expanded to some longer or more interesting, er, implements, being hung from behind the door to my bedroom. But there’s still a ton of sexy things around my apartment if you look for them – an entire bookcase full of erotic literature (both fiction and non), the aforementioned hanging implements, and a few naughty bits tucked into DVD collections or drawers around the house.
I hide none of it from visitors, nor do I invite them to explore. They’re simply there, a part of my life.
Though I will say the bookcase usually gets a visit from most of my friends when they stop by.
My sexuality is a part of me, a vital and healthy part. I don’t rub it in the faces of my visitors – a show and tell session, while amusing, might be too much for some visitors to take – but neither am I going to tuck in all the corners of my life so that I’m all hospital-approved spic and span, either. If I happen to forget a toy lying around, well, oops. Sorry. I pick it up and move it someplace else.
There are so many other things in this world to get tense about. Where my sex toys are at – and who sees them – is just the least of my worries. 🙂
I agree completely. Your home is your domain, your castle, your private place; and if someone wants to enter it, they are your guest. Guests must be treated with hospitality and respect, of course; but they also must accept that they are entering a place that is not theirs. Your house, your rules, after all, and you should change it for anybody.
I shall go one step further when building my house: A clothing-optional environment where sex is accepted. If you enter, you may see naked people and you may see fucking. (No guarantees, of course — I’m not necessarily providing a free show — but be forewarned.)
If you want to doff your clothes and get comfortable, be my guest! If you feel like engaging in any sexual activity, including masturbation, sex with other interested parties who may be present, or a ride on the household Sybian, go right ahead. Don’t be ashamed; don’t be inhibited; just do what comes naturally. If you want to get frisky with the dog, don’t worry; he’ll give you a good bite if he doesn’t like it. ;->
Really, home is supposed to be a place where you can be free. Why, in a private home, should the natural power of sex be bound by chains of prudishness? If I am in yours, I certainly shan’t begrudge you open display of your symbols of an enjoyable life; it’s as natural a part of the background as your houseplants or a painting hanging on the wall. And remember that unusual sex toys make good conversation pieces, too…
Rant mode on, ladies and gentlemen. I’m in a quirky mood, and I was just thinking about the flip side of the issue: Why *do* people hide in their own homes? Two answers come to mind: Miniature-immature-persons and prudish visitors.
As to the former, I don’t usually have small children about (unless you want to bump our special parts together and make some new ones). So it really isn’t a problem for me. Your mileage may vary, depending on your circumstances and life’s choices.
And when it comes to other visitors — nobody is going to make me feel unwelcome in my own home! My home belongs to *me*, not to society-at-large and its ticklish sensibilities. I don’t care if you’re my grandma or the pastor of the local church: If you don’t like the way I run my house, don’t expect my hospitality. Period. The relationship between guest and host is a two-way street, and nobody has a right to be invited over.
If the cleaning lady protests, fire her! (Particularly in this job market, where there ought to be plenty of less-repressive people yearning for employment.) Cleaning a private home is a job of some intimate trust; and a prudish cleaning lady in a sexually-active house is about as useful as a prudish photographer on a porn set. (Yes, I know that the problem immediately at hand was your friend’s embarassment, not the employee herself. But, supposing that your friend acted differently and that became the problem — which is not an unlikely scenario…)
I don’t like to hide who I am; and when it comes to personal living space, I am devilishly territorial. Really, sometimes I just don’t believe the lengths to which people will go to keep up a sheen of social acceptability. If they don’t like you for who you are, let them go fly kites. *Don’t* fuck ’em — that’s what they’ll be missing. (But then, I don’t have much “social acceptability” to lose in the first place. And I like it that way. 😉
I agree on the issue of not shoving things in people’s faces; I don’t customarily take actions to shock people or show off that I am such a big shot. Really, I can be quite a bit too reserved at times. But in your own private home, what counts as “rubbing it in their faces” and what counts as just living your life naturally, the way *you* feel comfortable?
Well, end of rant. Off I go to build my own society. Anybody want to live in my dictatorship? (You can rub your southside “it” in my face anytime.)
My toys hang behind the door of my bedroom on the wall on some strategically placed hooks. It’s a real space saver, and another advantage is that some of them are quite evil looking, so that when I do show a person I’m planning to be “rough” with, it’s great at working on the nerves. (: I have an open-door policy to my family in the daytime and when I don’t have visitors, but they’ve all learned NOT to look behind the door of my bedroom. LOL!
So, are you actually surprised that there are people out there who have hangups about sex to the point that they feel like they have to hide evidence of their sexuality?
Or are you surprised that your friend has these hangups?
Or are you not surprised at all, and merely are parading her insecurities for a good chuckle among your more sexually secure friends?
News flash. There are people out there who hide aspects of themselves, whether out of shame or modesty or whatever. In many cases, one of the aspects which they hide is their sexuality. The reasons for the insecurity and the sense of needing to hide these aspects of themselves can vary widely. Chances are you know someone who has something about themself that they only share with a select few people, and would be horribly embarrassed to have others find out about. And yes, chances are that sexuality would be one thing that they might be hiding. And yes, they’d be horrified to have someone find evidence of this thing that they are hiding about themself.
So, on one hand, no you are not the only one out there who feels differently, who is secure in their sexuality. On the other hand, do you live under a rock or what?
Dear me (lovingly),
Welcome to herdesires! This is a sex blog. As the tagline states, I’m here to explore both sexuality and fantasy, in all its forms. Writing about sex sometmies means writing about its hangups – for my part, it’s in the hopes that I can get people thinking about their own sexuality and work towards a healthier sexual self image, as well as a healthier sex life.
The vehicle through which I choose to share some of these messages is humour, because I find both people and sex amusing from time to time.
The purpose of this post was not to show shock – though I can understand why its tongue and cheek methods might have confused you – but to get people thinking about their own squicks, and hopefully with that thinking move one step closer to getting past them.
On a more personal note, I hoped that I could use this entry as a way of opening up a dialogue with my girlfriend about some of these issues. She’s read the post, laughed with me about it, and hopefully as time goes on I can help her to get more comfortable with her sexuality.
But please, if you find my tone, my way of thinking or my post topics offensive, feel free to move on to other web sites! 🙂
N.b., reading back, I didn’t mean to sound harsh in my earlier comments. I like to save the harshness for when I mean it. 😉 And I certainly didn’t intend to sound evangelical; I frankly don’t care how others lead their lives as long as they don’t intrude on mine.
It was just an issue that really caught my attention, as you can see, and got me rather excited. Animated. Ready to give a lively rant. And when I rant, I speak with authority.
I am glad that your girlfriend took the post in good humor and the two of you had a nice laugh over it; open-mindedness is quite refreshing. Now, as to the issue itself: I always did think that artistically-made glass dildoes would make particularly lovely decorations for the classy home. Lovely, and functional as well…
Was my response not tongue in cheek enough? Tsk, I must do something about that. Naughty me. I really didn’t intend it as a serious rebuke. I *know* you know about people’s insecurities. I will admit that I did lay it on a bit thick. Look at it as a bit of rough play rather than anything serious. Hence, the “lovingly”. I considered throwing more of a qualifier in there to lighten it up a bit, but decided against it.
Oh well, I’ll do better next time. You can beat me up at your leisure.
I want to live in The House that Jonathan Built!
*laughs* I’m so with you there, Twiddly!
yeah, i don’t know what that’s about, but i do kind of understand it. i like to think that i’m pretty sexually open and free, and with my friends, the people i know and love, i am.
but i do remember the first time my new cleaning lady cleaned up here and it became obvious that she had been in the bedside drawer. i’d like to say that it had nothing to do with the toys in it but rather had to do with the fact that she’d opened a drawer in my bedroom, which feels like a bit of a violation of privacy.
but really, if i’m honest here i could care less that she saw the cat’s prescription and face cream, it was the toys and condoms and lube that gave me pause.
and i have no idea why. just ’cause i don’t know her i guess. i mean, i told the story to many friends and we all had great laughs over it, it’s certainly not secret that i have toys.
*shrug* meh. who knows.
discretion does not necessarily equal sexual hangup.