I’d pulled out my vibrator last night. The one that a week ago I was perfectly satisfied using as a full replacement for an actual sex life. I stared at that little pink contraption and realized that the one reason why I’d been ready to hang up my dating belt was because I’d never had sex good enough for me to go in pursuit of it. Now I had, and a vibrator wasn’t going to cut it anymore. It sort of made me wish I’d stayed blissfully ignorant.
