For my 30th birthday, one of my best girlfriends came to visit me in Phoenix. She’d just gotten out of a very, very long relationship and was looking for a bit of silliness in her life. The morning before my big party, we got manicures and hit the sex toy shop.
My friend Julie wasn’t familiar with sex toys, so I did my best to show her around. She’d just read Fifty Shades of Grey, which unfortunately gave her a skewed view on what she had to look forward to in the dating world. The book did mention, however, something called “Ben Wa balls.”
I laughed when she asked me about them because, yeah, I knew what they were. Ben Wa balls are little metal balls that you insert in your vagina. They bang around in there and cause stimulation. They can also be used to help strengthen your pelvic floor since you have to stay sort of, well, clenched to keep them in.
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Julie demanded we buy some and wear them in celebration of my birthday. I thought it might actually be fun so we each bought a pair of little silver balls and headed home to shower.
While putting on my makeup, Julie wandered into my bathroom walking like a penguin. I didn’t have to ask. I just started laughing while she shouted, “Can you hear them?” (In case you’re wondering, no, I could not hear a pair of metal balls inside my best friend’s vagina.)
I put my own Ben Wa balls inside like they were a pair of fancy jewelry, and off we went to dinner. I got through dinner OK since I sat for most of it. Once we started barhopping, though, I found I had trouble keeping the balls inside. I didn’t really notice the sexual stimulation foretold in Fifty Shades, either. I just felt tense.
By bar number two, I surreptitiously took mine out and stashed them in my purse. Julie was in a separate bathroom stall, and as I washed my hands, I suddenly heard the telltale plink of metal on porcelain followed by a barrage of cuss words. “One fell out!” Julie shrieked.
Needless to say, after the amount of Fireball I’d imbibed, I just giggled. Apparently, Julie was just as inebriated as I was because she did not abandon the fallen Ben Wa — she went fishing. Side note: She rinsed the ball before reinsertion.
Julie caught the attention of an adorable off-duty barman, and it wasn’t long before she admitted to him what she had clanging around downstairs. He seemed fascinated by the idea and followed her around like a puppy desperately in need of adoption. The bartender came home with us, where the partying continued.
By the time 3 a.m. rolled around (much like a rebel Ben Wa), I was ready for birthday sex with my husband. Julie headed to the guest bedroom with sexy bartender guy. She would tell me the next morning that he insisted on removing the balls himself pre-intercourse… which, frankly, sounded kind of gross to me, especially once I had more experience with Ben Wa balls.
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Post-birthday, I would sometimes wear them around the house while cleaning. When I went to remove them, there were times when I swore my body had swallowed one and that an ER visit was in my future. Warning: Those balls are sneaky little critters!
Yes, I suppose you could say Julie’s evening with Ben Wa went better than my own, since I wussed out after two bars. I didn’t find the experience to be overly sensual, and having them in made it much harder to strut — or, at least, I felt more cautious in my strutting. The last thing I wanted was a little silver ball falling onto the floor and rolling to a stop in the middle of a romantic restaurant. There’s just no explaining that.
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