I’m thumbing through Nancy Friday’s My Secret Garden for the first time in about thirty years. It’s striking in a number of ways, but the most striking for me is how it’s become a period piece while I wasn’t looking at it. Here’s Marion, talking (sometime in 1973 or earlier) about how she uses her modified Ronson electric toothbrush with a harness she got a sandal-maker to make for her:

Lilly and I, we like to use an electric toothbrush. The battery-operated kind, so you don’t have to worry about the electric wires, or plugging it in. Except that’s just what you do – plug it in.

You ever go to a doctor or a dentist, and he’s cut his finger, and he wears a little rubber cap on his finger? Like a little condom? Anyway, we use that – we use epoxy glue to glue the toothbrush itself onto the little metal head otherwise the vibration’ll shake the brush off. Then I use the same glue to put the rubber cap on the brush, so that it covers the bristles. Some of our friends do this, too. It’s like our own “in” joke. “What are you using tonight, Jack?” we say to each other, when somebody’s picked up a new girl. “A Schick?” We trade brand names. I like a Ronson. It’s got four, or maybe six batteries, I forget, but it really goes.

I have a kind of strap. It goes around my waist and up over my shoulders, crossing in the back and then down under my ass and coming back up to the belt again. I had a sandal-maker make it for me. So the Ronson is really anchored right down low and in place. I mean, it’s rigid.

Look, you talk to any guy, and the first thing he wants to know, Has he made the girl come? That’s their mark of virility. That’s what they’re anxious about. But me and my Ronson, I can make any girl come, every time. It’s simple biology. Men have this business, they don’t even understand. To get deep inside. To plant the seed. That’s biology. Okay, I’m butch, I’m also a woman. I understand the clit. I don’t have that urge to go deep into a woman. Maybe I’m competitive with men. Or maybe I don’t want to just give in to biology. But I don’t care about going in deep. I know about myself and I never forget that the clit is where it’s at.

So I know what Lilly’s getting out of it. But there I am all alone in my head, very excited, but still somehow all alone. I know Lilly is going to be okay, but I have to make up these images in my mind so that I can get excited, too. What turns me on is that I’m raping a motorcycle rider. One of these butch studs in the polished black leather, and the big machine. I’m moving in and out of Lilly, giving her a little bit of clit, a little bit of cunt, and then a lot more of clit. But meanwhile, I can see myself in my mind, I’m still wearing that Ronson, but it isn’t Lilly anymore.

It’s this stud, and I’ve got him over his bike. He’s got his ass to me. He’s that big, butch faggot, get it? And I’m giving him the Ronson up the ass. And he loves it. He’s shoving that ass up at me. He can’t get enough.

Similar Sex Blogging: