This entry contains images that are not safe for work, which is silly given that we’re looking at medical images, but still, I don’t want you to get in trouble.
Recently, Elyse went to the ob/gyn for a check under the hood, so to speak, and sent us a picture with the caption, “It’s staring right at me.”
Ready?
Good morning!
So we all looked at the picture, rather pleased that the clitoris was labeled correctly, and I noticed this:
A “vestibule?” We have a vestibule? I had no idea! Think of the decorating to be done – that’s like a whole new Pinterest board!!
Elyse said, “I didn’t know I had a vestibule either. I will ask what that’s about and report back. DOCTOR, THIS FOR SCIENCE AND ROMANCE. WE MUST KNOW.”
Meanwhile, we got very silly talking about all the possibilities of the vestibule.
Gently he caressed her vestibule.
Her vestibule beckoned. Moistly.
He balanced his weight on his manly forearms, as his manly organ hovered at her rosy vestibule.
Turns out, “vestibule” is, according to Elyse’s doctor, “just another name for the opening of your vagina.” Apparently it’s just easier to type vestibule in notes than ‘opening of vagina.’ Wikipedia further defines the “vestibule” as “the posterior 2/3 of the labia minora, the location of the urethral meatus and the paraurethral glands of Skene and the introitus of the vagina.”
We were not satisfied, however. Because an architectural vestibule could be any number of things! There’s even a Big Agnes Big House TENT VESTIBULE.
Elyse: When I think of a vestibule I think of a revolving door and some potted plants.
Sarah: DITTO. And possibly a ceramic dog.
Carrie: Umbrella stands (phallic) in a umbrella holder (vaginal). I feel horrible poetry coming on.
Sarah: Suddenly, your vestibule is NSFW and you don’t know why….
Elyse: My vestibule is quivering darling
Sarah: I wonder if vestibules can milk the hero? Or do they mostly ask his penis to remove its shoes and coat?
Nah, raincoat stays on, obvs.
Think of the possibilities here. We have a WHOLE NEW WORD for romance sex scenes! Rosy folds? Slick opening? Humid love grotto? All part of the past – we have a VESTIBULE.
So we think it’s time for some vestibular fun, right?
Your challenge, shall you choose to accept it: write us a sample line or two from a romance sex scene that uses the word “vestibule.” Decorating the vestibule? Closing the vestibule doors against poor foreplay? Doesn’t matter what genre, or even what planet. We must deploy the vestibule!
We think this is a matter of national romance urgency – we need more vestibule in the sexxy times!
We will select 5 winners at random and give away a variety of prizes including an assortment of romance novels or $10 gift cards to the bookstore of the winner’s choice.
Standard disclaimers apply: we’re not being compensated for this giveaway except to make “vestibule” part of the romance vernacular. Void where prohibited. Open to international residents were permitted by applicable law. Must be over 18 and ready to tastefully decorate a vestibule to win. Do not taunt happy fun ball. By submitting an entry to the contest as set forth herein, each entrant does acknowledge and agree that, in the event such entrant is victorious, such entrant will perform a ceremony reasonably appropriate to such circumstance, including, without limitation, the Vestibule Shuffle. Winners will be chosen at random on Friday 5 June 2015. and winners will be announced same day.
So please! Bring us the hot vestibule action, because there is nothing more sexy than a vestibule!
Hooray for vestibules! The winners, selected by a most discerning random integer generator, are:
Beth: “She shivered lightly as she laid back upon the bed and allowed him access to her vestibule. He considered wiping his feet on the carpet, as a true gentleman of the Ton would do, but thought better of it.”
Heather: “Her vestibule beckoned like a welcoming little house. Since he was a well-bred gentleman, he did not barge in but entered slowly, calling out her name just in case (a perfectly useless move since she was well aware that there was a naked man kneeling before her, but still, one cannot be too sure).”
Vicki: “He moved through the bush, seeking entrance to the vestibule he knew was hidden there.”
LisaJo: “He slid hesitantly into her vestibule, desperately hoping that he’d indeed entered the correct door.”
AndieG: “He was pleased and excited to find her vestibule clean, warm and cozy. He went out, then came back in. Out,then back in. Out and in,out and in, out and in. He loved her & her vestibule and he never wanted to leave…though that would make work and Sunday dinners at her mother’s house rather awkward for everyone.”
Thanks for playing along with us, and may your vestibule Pinterest boards be nothing short of inspiring!
From a YA:
“He slid hesitantly into her vestibule, desperately hoping that he’d indeed entered the correct door.”
*snerk* Sorry, it’s late and that’s all I’ve got. At least I’m cracking myself up.
He looked around her vestibule and noted that the carpet did not match the drapes. He didn’t care what color the carpet was, it was nice and warm and welcoming in there.
Truth be told, he was just happy it wasn’t tiled.
“Darling!” she shrieked. “I asked you to come in through the vestibule. That’s the mud room!”
A landing strip led to the vestibule, beyond which the tunnel of love beckoned invitingly… He was a bit taken aback, as the last time he’d seen this bit of real estate there had been no rug leading to said vestibule, just some intricate vajazzling.
*squints* *eyerolls mightily* *clicks to submit anyway*
She shivered lightly as she laid back upon the bed and allowed him access to her vestibule. He considered wiping his feet on the carpet, as a true gentleman of the Ton would do, but thought better of it.
Francesca, I’m dying here. Seriously. I can’t stop laughing.
*not an entry* Can it be a coincidence when I checked my mail page immediately after reading this column that I had an offer from Living Social for carpet cleaning and a sidebar ad for Valvoline that asked “What’s under the hood?” What is the universe trying to tell me? *not an entry*
Her vestibule beckoned like a welcoming little house. Since he was a well-bred gentleman, he did not barge in but entered slowly, calling out her name just in case (a perfectly useless move since she was well aware that there was a naked man kneeling before her, but still, one cannot betoo sure).
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a gentleman, before requesting access to the vestibule, rings the doorbell located above it.
More than once, ideally.
He moved through the bush, seeking entrance to the vestibule he knew was hidden there.
*Not an entry, but I’m dying here, both over these uses on vestibule, AND over the use of “vestibular fun”, which translates to my (admittedly twisted) audiologist mind as ear sex.
*Also not an entry*
When I was a child in the 60s and 70s, our rotary telephone (landline (party line even!), not mobile in any way, handset attached to phone) was kept in the vestibule of our house. Seeing that diagram makes me think there should be a tiny black phone sitting on a table, next to the “entrance”, just like my childhood house.
Ok Lammie all I can think about now is Lily Tomlin as Ernestine the telephone operator wearing her trademark smirk while muttering “one ringy dingy, two ringy dingies…” Snort!
“The sound of a little bustle at the front door and the sight of Miss Price dripping with wet in the vestibule was delightful.” OK, I didn’t write that. Jane Austen did, in Mansfield Park. (WHORE.)
But now I want “little bustle” to be the next euphemism we adopt.
Marian Perera, 30 points to Gryffindor for yours!
Don’t put that tool near my vestibule, you fool!
It’s not cool to disrespect a women’s vestibule.
“The setting sun flooded the vestibule[…]”
from Bet Me by Jennifer Cruise
“They burst into irreverent giggles as Gwendolyn herded them up the wide black oak staircase to the long gallery that overlooked the entrance vestibule.”
from Jillian Hunter’s The Love Affair of an Angry English Lord
*”O my vestibule, my new found land,
My womanhood now by medics named,
My mine of precious stones, my empery
How blessed am I in this discovering thee”
*Apologies to John Donne
Soft and languid were her lover’s tongue strokes as he licked her vestibule. She shuddered violently, coming undone while gripping his head to keep him in place.
The postman always rings twice…then gently slides his package (this end up!) into her vestibule.
Bumper sticker: Butlers do it in the vestibule.
He went down on her, his tongue sweeping through her vestibule as thoroughly as a Swiffer.
“He was pleased and excited to find her vestibule clean, warm and cozy. He went out, then came back in. Out,then back in. Out and in,out and in, out and in. He loved her & her vestibule and he never wanted to leave…though that would make work and Sunday dinners at her mother’s house rather awkward for everyone. “
From the “My Ding A Ling” song, as sung by Chuck Berry:
My momma took me to grammar school
But I stopped off in the vestibule
Every time that bell would ring
They’d catch me playing my Ding-a-ling-a-ling.
And I thought that song was already rife with euphemism!
“Oh my goodness,” she cried in shock. “Where did all these visitors come from? My vestibule is as full as it can be!” He smirked at her and raised one eyebrow. “Oh come now,” he murmured, “I’m sure we can fit one more.”
*No entry, vestibular or otherwise* I’m crying from laughing so hard! 🙂 I’m at a complete loss to come up with anything; it’s impossible to improve on all of these. OMG. LOL!
She was nude and she was stacked, built like a brick house. He gently placed her on the green landscape of his bed and spread her legs. Her vestibule beckoned, pink and glistening. He slid in and thought, “I am home.”
Once again, I had to explain the hysterical laughter coming from the living room.
Her welcoming vestibule glistened in the morning light as the mailman delivered his first-class package.
Who knew someone so long on the shelf could feel such an instantaneous attraction? Overwhelmed with lust, she could only wish she’d dusted her vestibule before inviting him in.
And: Bwahahahahahaha! You ladies slay me!
His erection was nearly complete, but he did not wish to build an addition at this time, so instead of plastering her inner moulding, he withdrew and painted her vestibule.
The floor freshly oiled and polished and the chandelier glittering invitingly, her vestibule was her pride and joy. Yes, it was a little small, and less well furnished than she would like. But it was elegant and warm and cozy, her favourite place. When the knocking became more insistent, she let out a small gasp of delight. “Come in!”, she ejaculated, flinging the entry wide. “I’m coming, I’m coming!” was the reply, “Wait for me!”
*not an entry*
There’s actually a treatment for vestibular vulvodynia (which I have) called a “vestibulectomy”, which involves surgically removing the painful area. It also turns out there’s a vestibule in your ear. The GP of a woman I know who had the surgery asked her what the problem was with her ear. 😛
These entries are awesome. Yay for new words!
O, I have bought the mansion of love, but not possess’d it, and though I am sold, not yet enjoyed. Also, that one time I let Mercutio in the vestibule totally doesn’t count.
Charles slid into her vestibule like Dick Van Dyke on a banana peel, and Mary swore she could feel the little birdies twittering around in her living womb. (Ba-dump-bump)
So, longtime lurker, but never commented before now. The challenge was too enticing to pass up! It’s probably too long to be in the running, but once I started I just couldn’t stop until I got to the punchline.
****
His impressive manhood lingered at her vestibule, an unexpected guest waiting to be allowed entry into sacred, perfumed spaces.
With hitching gasps, his breath feathered across her neck. “Now?” he groaned, pressing against her velvet gates.
She held up a finger in admonishment. That same finger directed his gaze downward, towards the fleshy pink bud hidden within her folds. “Ahem,” she said, “it is customary to press the button before being admitted.”
“Abandon all hope, ye who enter here”,
Such characters in tattoo ink, I marked
Over her vestibule’s quite lofty arch
A remnant of a Spring Break long ago.
For those who have had a hysterectomy, the now dead-ended passage is called a “Vaginal Vault”. Which is a little alarming, because I don’t want dead things put in there, thank you very much, nor do I want the family jewels secreted within and the entrance barred and locked!
He had readied the vestibule, gaining entrance, hesitating, then withdrew, but she seemed to like that. So he entered and withdrew from the vestibule multiple times until they were both writhing in ecstasy.