How I Found My Libido Again (It Wasn't the Vajankle That Did It)

How I Found My Libido Again (It Wasn't the Vajankle That Did It)


I wanted to run out and see a car crash, the Hindenburg explosion, celebrity surgeries gone horribly wrong — anything that would supersede the image of that foot and what some person would do to it. I couldn’t stop thinking about that vajankle: who buys it; if it perhaps signals the end of days.

My newfound sexual liberation had come to a crashing failure. I shut down. I felt prudish and judgy, even though I truly believe everyone should fly their own freaky happiness flag. I felt — you guessed it — old.

After a while, Duncan and I finally had a night alone — just a couple sex nerds on clean white sheets. In the quiet of the morning, before the smell of coffee filled the house, before the neighbors’ bustle signaled the day had begun, I listened in closely on a small conversation.

SEX ORGANS: Hey, brain, you awake?

BRAIN: Yeah, but I’m surprised you are after last night. Apparently it’s not “use it or lose it.” You doin’ OK?

SEX ORGANS: Holy hell, yes. In fact, I think I’m going to be a little busy in a few minutes.

BRAIN: Maybe brunch sometime?

SEX ORGANS: My treat.

Originally posted on Purple Clover

More from Purple Clover

Trending Now


In order to comment on, you'll need to be logged in. You'll be given the option to log in or create an account when you publish your comment. If you do not log in or create an account, your comment will not be displayed.