My junior year of college was the first time that I felt that I was in control of my sexual and romantic life. In high school and with the guys I dated early in college, it seemed like I was always following. Changing myself to fit in with what a guy was interested in, making choices that matched up with his vision of me. Even with my first serious boyfriend, whom I loved, he made all the big decisions, including the decision to break up.
Now he was graduated and gone. I had had a glorious summer in Italy that included a frustrating flirtation with an inexperienced guy and an amazing physical relationship with a slightly older man. I was ready to return to campus confident and determined to take ownership of my sex life.
Before I went to back to school, I went to my OB-GYN and asked for birth control prescriptions. I promised to practice safe sex, but I also wanted the ability to have a more intimate relationship if I met someone whom I trusted. And I didn't want to get pregnant just because I reluctantly let some quick-cumming guy play "just the tip."
Less than two weeks before classes started, I drove to a part of my hometown that I usually only sped through. I looked along the street sprinkled with fast food joints, check cashing places and bad motels to find my goal, an adult gift shop. I went in the middle of the day. I had planned on dressing conservatively, but it was 92 degrees outside, so I wore a short skirt and polo shirt. I felt a little guilty going in, and I definitely didn't look like the typical Wednesday afternoon porn shopper.
I parked on the side and quickly stepped in, covering my face just in case anyone my parents knew was driving by. I had never been inside a porn shop before. It was much less skeezy than I had imagined. I was struck by the wall of VCR tapes (it was the early 90s) with covers that were shocking and a little alluring. I didn't go there to buy tapes, but I couldn't look away from the photos of women and men and women and women doing all sorts of things. I was expecting "Debbie Does Dallas" or Cinemax-style soft porn, but this wall had themes I hadn't even imagined: Threesomes, foursomes, orgies and gangbangs. Lesbians, cheating wives, mature women. I was confused by some of the fetish videos: Cum swapping? Fisting? And so many movies about anal sex. So many.
Despite being shocked, I was also aroused. The images that stopped me in my tracks were those with a woman being penetrated. It was that simple. I had given plenty of handjobs and a few blowjobs, had several guys finger me, and a few eat me out. But I had only had intercourse with two guys. But I had enough to know that I loved the feeling of having a cock inside me. Specifically, I loved the moment when a penis first enters me. The anticipation, my wetness, the desire to be filled, then the satisfaction of having the head of his penis stretching my tight cunt and pressing through. I loved to watch a man's face as he penetrated me. I craved seeing that much pleasure and desire in men's eyes. When I saw a sexy man - from an 18-year-old at the gym to a 50-year-old sexy friend of my dad - I couldn't help but fantasize about what his face would look like as he entered me.
I stared at the rack of videos. "Night Shift Nurses" featured a woman, naked other than a nurses' cap, sitting on a smiling man, his cock nestled into her. I loved the satisfied look on both of their faces, and I clenched my thighs together as I felt dampness between my legs. "Double Desires" featured a woman wearing nothing but white heels, straddling a standing man, her nipples inches from his mouth, while another guy held her hips and drove himself into her from behind.
I had never thought much about anal sex, but the image reminded me of sex with my Italian lover, Enzo. He had taken me doggystyle and shocked me by pressing his finger into my anus. There in the porn shop, I recalled feeling being completely full, and the orgasm that had as my muscles clamped down on his cock and his finger at the same time. I had to take a deep breath to regain my composure and fight the instinct to press my fingers against my suddenly swollen clitoris.
I didn't come here to buy porn, and I was getting distracted from my mission. I noticed the clerk looking up from the counter watching me with a smile. She looked about my age, thin and tall. She had short hair and a nose piercing. She was black or mixed-race, with perky tits pressing against a too-tight T-shirt.
"Can I help you," she said politely, as if she had seen clueless women on their first porn shop trip before. I looked around, and there were only two other customers, a man wearing a shirt and tie looking at a rack of magazines, and a guy dressed like he was headed to the golf course. He was perusing the same rack videotapes as me, but on the far side of the rack. I walked toward the counter. I shyly smiled at the clerk. I was determined to complete my mission, part of my quest take control of my own sexuality.
"Vibrators?" I asked.
She smiled, and walked out from behind the counter. I followed her, and she did her best Vanna White impression, waving her hand at an unimaginably large and varied display of dildos and vibrators. She laughed. We were far enough from the other customers to talk privately. "Listen, this can be overwhelming. Let me help you."
She tilted her head and looked me up and down. Then she whispered. "Is it for you by yourself, or for you to play with someone else?"
"Oh, oh," I stammered. "By myself, Probably. Yes, definitely by myself. At least most of the time."
She giggled. And moved closer to me. "It would help if I knew about what you need." My cheeks burned bright red. I was embarrassed, but also excited. Women so rarely get asked what they want sexually. I decided to be completely transparent.
"I can't make myself come with my fingers," I said. "I have had orgasms from oral sex, or even from a lover's fingers. And I can come hard if my clitoris is stimulated during penetration."
I couldn't believe what I was telling this stranger, but just talking about it made my nipples harden. She smiled. "That helps a lot. We have what you need."
She reached up and pulled down the smallest item on the shelf. It was slightly longer than a tube of lipstick, and shaped like a tiny missile. "Now this little guy doesn't look like much, but for subtle, direct clitoral stimulation, you can't do better.
"I bet you have a roommate, don't you?" I nodded, staring at her slim fingers as she rolled the tiny vibrator around.
"So do I. This thing is so small, I can use it with someone in the same room. I just turn on a fan to cover up the buzzing sound," she said. "And, the fan noise also helps cover my moans after this little guy does his job."
I shivered and my pussy spasmed a tiny bit, imagining her in her bed, vibrator beneath the sheets, having a quiet but satisfying orgasm. She flicked a switch on the bottom and the buzzing began. She put her hand out to me, and I reach out to hold it. Instead, she gently took my wrist and flipped my arm so my palm was facing up. She ran the vibrator from my wrist up to the inside of my elbow and back again. "Mmm," I said. She turned the speed up, and did the same thing. Then up again. My pelvic muscles tightened as I imagined turning up the power on my clit. I closed my eyes. When I opened them, both men on opposite sides of the store were staring at us. I met their gaze one at a time, and they each turned back to the magazines and tapes.
"It's not as powerful as the other models. But it's generally enough for many women, especially beginners. But some ladies need more power and fast vibration on their clit." She pulled out a long rod with a ball on the top.
"This is the Hitachi wand. It needs to be plugged into an outlet. It is the luxury SUV of clitoral stimulation."
I was shaking my head, a little scared and worried that I couldn't hide anything that big. "Yeah, probably a bit much for a dorm room," she said.
"I am moving to an apartment," I said. "But that thing scares me. I'll take the little guy."
Little did I know, years later, that the wand would become 35-year-old me's favorite toy.
I exhaled, happy to have accomplished my goal as she pulled an unopened box with one of the small vibrators and handed it to me.
"Oh sweetie, you're not done yet," she said with a smirk. "You said you like penetration with clitoral stimulation?"