Max Madame Pussy Weights

Max Madame Pussy Weights

Despite being only 4pm, it had been already been a long day of solo parenting and running errands with my 8yo. I had just dropped her off at a birthday party and walked into my quiet house. Alone. I didn’t want to leave. I just wanted to lay on my couch and stare at Facebook.

But I had pussy weight lifting class.

I’ve never done it but it seemed interesting. Adventurous if you will. I didn’t have anyone to go with. I was going to be alone in a room full of half dressed women trying to lift things with my 48 year old, birthed four babies vagina. I pictured myself repeatedly shoving my yoni egg in my pussy only to have it slip out and bounce across the floor in front of all the adorable 20 somethings around me lift wine bottles with ease, giggling and staring at my one women pratfall show.

I was going to be the adult version of Lucille Ball in the chocolate factory. 

Amazingly, after that uplifting pep talk, I was still able to somehow peel myself off my couch and head to class.

I walked in and was greeted with a huge reassuring smile and handed the box with my new yoni egg in it. Obsidian for strength and grounding. Perfect.

I seated myself on a disposable pad – basically the same thing you train your puppy to pee on. Disposable pads are the yoga mats of pussy weightlifting.

Max Madame led us through pussy basics with a huge grin and immediately made me feel better about my decision to leave my comfortable couch and humiliate myself in public. She showed us a couple of the props she brought – a little bucket, a floral basket, a champagne bottle, a beautiful Japanese float and, my favorite, a disco ball.

And then, suddenly and without warning, came the part where we all needed to strip off our pants and insert our own yoni egg. We could leave our panties on if we liked, but I’d come too far to do that.

But once you are sitting in a room with a bunch of strangers who also don’t have pants on, it becomes your new normal.

Yay! Just a bunch of girls chatting about vag health while we work yoni eggs up into our pussies. 

Our new normal gave people the perfect space to ask questions they normally don’t get the chance to ask about fisting and sizes and how the muscles work. It was all very Betty Dodson.

Once we had the eggs in, we practiced kneeling, then standing and moving with the egg inside us.  Shockingly, at least for me. It didn’t fall out. In fact – no ones did. Then came the moment of truth.

The carabiner.

Ok. Maybe not the moment of truth. The prequel to the moment of truth. But it was the first thing I hung on the string of the yoni egg. Which miraculously stayed in.

Dancing Queen!

Dancing Queen!

Then came the actual moment of truth. The bucket.

Egg still in place.

I dropped a little blue glass stone in the bucket.

If my pussy could hear, the sound of that stone hitting the bottom of that bucket was deafening.

A few more stones. And a few more.

Egg? Still in place!

FEEL THE POWER OF THE PUSSY! 

We all wiggled and practiced swinging our various weights and feeling the curious sensations.

Moar rocks! I was emboldened!

We started talking about how it felt and the moment I started talking and not paying 100% attention to what I was doing, without warning,

Boom!

Little blue glass stones everywhere. I was shocked when Max told me that I’d actually been dancing around with that bucket for twenty minutes.

Sometimes, you don’t know what you are capable of until you peel yourself up off the couch and drag yourself to pussy weight lifting.

Next Up! Squirting Class!

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