Vanessa de Largie | Medium | November 30, 2020
I was twenty-three years old when I first looked at my vagina up-close in a mirror.
I’d just had a Brazilian wax and wanted to see if my cunt (minus the pubes) could compete with the sexy actresses I had seen in porn movies.
Would my pussy ‘rate’ amongst the other women men had fucked?
Or would it be pushed to the sidelines, unable to make the grade in The Universe of Perfect Pussydom?
Dolly Magazine had suggested that I squat on the floor and look at my pussy with a compact mirror to learn about it’s geography. But I was terrified of what I might find.
My pussy had been fingered, eaten and fucked before I ever masturbated — which is why self-pleasure is so precious to me as an adult because it signifies ownership over my womanhood.
In my late-teens I would sit in the passenger seat of sex whilst men flipped me, threw me and used me as a receptacle for their spunk.
Yet after I began unlocking the secret doors within my own body— I moved into the driver’s seat.
- Masturbating has taught me that my body is complex and capable of many types of orgasms and many types of releases.
- Masturbating has taught me that my sexuality IS my creativity. They are one and the same.
- Masturbating has taught me that my pussy is a memory bank of pleasure, trauma and pain.