Materia Vulgaris

It is true, there is no need for vulgarity during sex, or at any other time really is there? Ah, but IS there?

For the males here, please try to picture yourself as a developing girl. Almost from the first growth spurt, the budding breasts, the finest down of pubic hair, we are drilled in decorum at all times, cleanliness, and being demure. And believe me, no matter how well it is done, it is a constant indoctrination from puberty until it is so embedded in our behaviour that the constant reminders eventually are reduced to merely a meaningful, warning glance now and then.

Yet there are few women who, like me enjoy nothing more than laying with our legs spread wide or clasped around our lover's backs being pounded into oblivion. Where is the LACK of vulgarity in that? It is hardly a delicate, respectable position or activity is it?

Of course, for me as a developing girl, it was the very fact that vulgarity was forbidden that made it so very attractive. I went to a fee paying boarding school as a boarder. Worse than that, it was very much a Catholic school and the resident nuns patrolled, it seemed to us, unceasingly during the night. (Did they EVER sleep?) Can you imagine what it is like for a 14 year old girl to say the word 'fuck' out loud for the first time? It is heady, almost dizzyingly erotic.

I recall one occasion, oh, so unlike my swim on the Great Barrier Reef. I was alone and out in the countryside surrounding the school. (For some reason, the nuns thought that if we were outside in God's good fresh air, we would not be 'doing anything' that would lead us into a state of sin....well, that's faith for you!) I was 14, nearly 15 and the hills were soaked in that golden, rich sunlight that only comes from mid summer.

Alone on the hills I felt like I was in a world of my own with only me and nature surrounding and embracing me. I recall so vividly, I was not thinking anything sexual at the time, I was just glad to be out of the confines of the building, but literally like turning on a light, I was suddenly aware of my clit throbbing gently. Several thoughts flashed through my mind in quick succession. 1) Not far back to school, go to the toilet and masturbate. 2) Do it here. 3) Say the dirty words, OUT LOUD. Then it became almost a dare with myself.

I remember tentatively reaching up under that ridiculously long skirt. I had to hitch it up to slip my hand between my legs. That alone felt daring, showing my panties in public (although there was no-one around to see.) Then slipping my hand into them and exploring the rapidly moistening folds between my legs. Having to part my legs a little further than was decent to get my hand comfortably between my thighs. Then, reaching up my school jumper and slipping a hand into my bra.

Then it seemed the most natural thing in the world to lie down, slip my panties off, hitch my skirt right up high out of the way and tug my jumper and bra up exposing my developing breasts.

I felt the sun kiss that secret place between my legs and I started to jill muttering to myself. 'Oh fuck....mmmmm....fuck me... fuck me'. As the feelings grew in intensity, which they did alarmingly quickly and far stronger than in school 'SHIT... fuck my cunt....screw me... shag me.... give me your cock...fuck me FUCK MEEEE' The latter accompanying the strongest orgasm of my young life to date. I remember so clearly that I actually forced myself to shout the words out as loud as I could.

Lying there, in the afterglow of my depravity, having gone against everything I had been taught, I learned the place of nature in sex, I also learned the place for vulgarity, for when used sparingly and for effect what can be more pleasant to a girl?

Oh, I have known the loving embrace of a man, my legs wrapped around him not erotically, but to join with my lover in exactly that, love. But I have also known the rough, savage, almost primal sex that comes from needing a good seeing to NOW. I have known the touch of another woman and that, between two women, there are no boundaries of eroticism.

But for me, vulgarity will always have it's place, and in my mind at least, there is no doubt from whence it came, the conditioning of a young girl has a lot to answer for and a lot to be grateful for IF like me, you have the courage to break free.

The next time you see a girl sitting in the summer sun with her legs more widely apart than is perhaps proper (what some like to call an 'accidental upskirt, I believe?) perhaps you should remember that she, like all girls will have been drilled in the proper way to sit. Perhaps, those accidental upskirts are not accidental at all.

Do you think that we do not know if we are out in a short skirt with nothing underneath? Can you seriously believe we have forgotten to put our panties on? Do you think that if we bend down from the waist, we do not know our skirt rides up at the back? Of course we do!

And thongs, surely the least functional of female underwear. Yet, (and I feel sad about this) few men appreciate that the one thing more erotic for a girl than having nothing covering her sex is having something that almost covers her sex. The girl you see this summer, sitting on the low wall by the beach, or in the town square or mall with her knees apart enough for you to see the tiny white flash of her panties may well be experiencing far more of a thrill than you are. She knows, you see.

She knows what she is doing is daring, and she is aroused. Oh, please do NOT make the mistake of thinking that she wants you to go over to her. No, she merely wants the pleasure of something that I have met in only one or two men. She wants the pleasure of wondering, of not knowing how big your cock is, or wanting to jack you off. She wants the experience of wondering if you will go home and jack off, or go to the nearest toilet and do it.

She wants the pleasure of wondering if you will get your wife to masturbate you, yet think of her as you cum. We are devious creatures, and yes, we can be more than a little cruel, but if we want your attention, if you can peel your eyes away from our crotch, look into our eyes. If we want your approach you will know.

Vulgarity, then, for me at least, was bred in early and came directly out of the repressive training that most, if not all young girls are subjected to.

Well, as I write this, I feel the wriggle of my unborn daughter deep in my womb. I know that I will teach her that her body is hers, and hers alone. I hope that I can honour this promise to myself and to her. There is much I must warn her against in the world, and she will face many predations, but a love of her own body, and the pleasures it can bring her will not be denied her.