Sexualista – No Secretsis now listed on Kinkly.com as one of their “Top Sex Blogs on the Web!” You might enjoy browsing the numerous sex blogs listed in the site’s Sex Blog Directory. I’m thrilled to be a part of a growing community of sex-positive bloggers trying to fuel a modern sexual revolution.
If you enjoy my blog, would you consider voting for it in the Sex Blog Superheroes contest on Kinkly.com? Many thanks for your support!
I’ve postponed this item to ponder new information and twists on the topic. I now believe an emotionally healthy guy can be the total package: an alpha leader, a compassionate soul, and a sensual, creative and giving lover. I think the sum of these traits may be acquired skills in some cases, and I like to think these alpha men are more numerous than rare.
Having met a man possessing these traits threw a twist into my notion that alpha men lack one or more of the characteristics I seek in strong, desirable males. Life is all about savoring those unexpected epiphanies and this post is hereby tabled pending further in-depth study of the test subject.
I’m very encouraged by the feedback I hear from readers. Some folks appreciate the sex education information while others (I’ve been told) cream their jeans reading the erotic details. I like to share a few reader emails occasionally because their comments may hit home with other people pondering similar issues. As usual, the guys are more vocal than women, but I’m hearing from more femmes now and it’s very liberating.
Takeaways: It’s not entirely “his” fault if she doesn’t orgasm. Never give up on experiencing orgasm. For many women, it happens later in life.
A few items from the mailbag:
A female Twitter follower: “Love your blog, and your directness, knowledge, and honesty are refreshing. What you’re doing is so important, and I hope woman….young and old…..find their way to your blog (and of course men also). I am 60, and am only now discovering how to have vaginal orgasms, what “squirting” feels like etc. Oh I could go on and on about the difference in attitude, sexual desire/indifference at this stage of life as compared to the years raising a family. Cheers to you for your research and ability to so eloquently share with all who are interested.” – L
Reader comment: “For most guys, we are blind to what women desire, and seriously lack in communication skills. So we turn to porn and reading blogs like your own. When it comes to women, there is still a very strong stigma saying they shouldn’t explore themselves. Or they are simply ignorant to find out there is more to their sexuality than they think.” – F
A male swinger, wrote: “My initial reaction to the blog (Sexualista) was: wow! Here is a brave soul. Someone willing to write (which, in itself is a bold step) candidly on a subject that most people want to ignore. Many people can write about sex, but usually that slides into erotica. While that is useful and fun, it is not completely honest. And I appreciate your honesty.
“I also appreciate your quest for orgasm and the quest to educate others about it. It really is a noble goal (and could be a ton fun trying to achieve it!). It’s funny. I got into the (swinger) lifestyle because I love sex. But I’m beginning to realize that the bigger motivation is to learn how to please a woman and to explore my kinks, and sexuality.
“It was always easy to blame lack of sex at home on my wife’s low sex drive. But if I enjoy sex so much, why isn’t my wife? Probably because it’s not worth her time and that is where I come in. I need to be better. Open her world. Show her possibilities. Push her to incredible limits, and beyond.
“It is so hard, however, because my wife – and other lovers – don’t want to hurt me. They’ll tell me I was wonderful. I was great. But the truth is they are being nice and it’s not helping anyone. I love to please. Love it. If two people are engaged in hot, erotic, sweaty sex that brings them both to mind blowing orgasm, everyone’s happy, right? So, therefore, I appreciate your blog. It speaks the truth I am seeking.” – G
Frequently quoted reader: “I see you have added to your Valkyrie blog. It is absolutely fantastic and erotic… I also have much admiration for you and your pursuit to regularly achieve orgasms. The percentage of women who can do that or are willing to pursue it must be very very small. Hopefully others will get inspiration from your endeavor.
“From a man’s perspective your writing has given me valuable insight that typically is not readily discussed between partners … 1. That it isn’t necessarily my fault if I couldn’t get a woman to orgasm. It requires practice and a knowledge of their own body to achieve orgasms.
2. There’s different types of orgasm based on different stimulation. 3. The very descriptive narrative of your mind blowing orgasm in your last post provides a perspective not readily available to men, also very hot! I wouldn’t say it’s a how to, but definitely gives me ideas of where I want to experiment.
“Besides all that I love your writing style. It’s an interesting combination of education and erotica. After this topic is mastered, I look forward to your next. Want to give any hints?” – C
Please post any comments you might have or send me your confidential email address – my eyes only – if you would like notification of future blog posts.
I would love to hear your suggestions for future blog topics or if you want to trade innocuous barbs, I’m all ears. I’m happy to answer any questions you might have or just trade hot, torrid stories.
My orgasmic experience in the sex chair was lovely and fierce: an exhilarating liberation of the shame I felt as a non-orgasmic femme. Like a warrior Valkyrie, off to Valhalla I metaphorically sent my fear of sexual dysfunction and with it, my chronic anorgasmia.
As I focused on personal orgasmic quests, I experienced minor tremors riding a dildo fastened to the toilet seat lid. But it required some prep time, and I’m always running late. Most euphoric sex requires sufficient stimulation of the lady bits to engorge and prepare the clitoris and vagina for orgasmic contact. I experimented with methods to achieve stronger orgasms with less masturbation time, but knew my clit would not be denied.
My modus operandi was the use of a powerful vibrator pressed to my clit and teasingly around the perimeter of my vulva. I squealed when I pressed down on the hood of my clit and forced it to the left side of my labia.
This Swiss movement sent ripples of excitement down the internal wishbone shaft of my clit and excited my vaginal opening. After several minutes of intense clit stimulation, I massaged the length of my pussy lips with the vibrator and began circling my vigi. When I could no longer withstand the aching need, I slid the screaming vibrator into my pussy and paused to experience the tingling full-genital sensation.
I steadily rode that cock till vaginal orgasm claimed my pelvic nerves and all of my conscious senses.
Often, clit stim alone caused me to cum multiple times before navigating toward my pussy, and once anchored in that wet port, I was sufficiently swelled and ached for that thick dildo fuck. I slowly lowered myself onto the dildo, feeling it stretching my pussy and spreading my insides wide. I steadily rode that cock till vaginal orgasm claimed my pelvic nerves and all of my conscious senses.
I knew I had experienced a mild vaginal orgasm, and I recognized the importance of prolonged genital stimulation in facilitating sexual nirvana, but I remained unsatisfied. I longed for an explosive full-body orgasm that exponentially increased my experience.
I excelled in toilet-dong-riding, but my mechanics were flawed. The physical riding strength required for orgasm often exceeded my mortal abilities. I needed to save my thighs the arduous and exhausting thrusting needed to power my pussy sufficiently over the edge. I longed for an improved masturbation method that cut preparation time, yet still delivered a full-body convulsive experience.
Employing the Yankee ingenuity often required for significant discovery lead me to orgasmic mechanical success. Combining the aforementioned George Foreman Grille, a simple sex chair, and my favorite dildo enabled me to break free of terra firma and ride triumphantly among the mythical Valkyries.
I attached my favorite dildo to the plastic lid of the George Foreman Grille and slid the apparatus under my sex chair. I appropriately lubed the dong, caressed it as I would a hand-job on a hard cock, and fantasized about my imminent fuck-in-waiting. And now that I was easily squirting from clit or G-spot stimulation, I could forego the extensive foreplay previously needed to plateau.
With vibrator in hand, I spread my legs, sat down, and started rubbing the standing dildo around my pussy lips. I thought of my lover’s cock and my vigi twitched in anticipation. I quickly pushed the dong into my eager place and lowered my throbbing pussy onto it. The rush of that cock sliding deep inside me, spreading me wide and stimulating every inch of my vagina was extraordinary. So full, so invasively deep, I moaned and paused my descent when the dildo reached my deep spot.
A fuck this extraordinary had to be savored and enhanced, elevating it to the epiphany I sought. Applying the vibrator to my clit against the fullness of the balls-deep dildo triggered the urge to ride: a primordial need to fuck hard, fast, and deliberately. I began bouncing, riding, and grinding that cock till I slipped into a Zen meditative state. The vibrations saturated my pelvic region as I slowly gained speed, the angle I needed, and the exact physics I sought.
Caught between consciousness and the surreal, I was bewitched by the aura of a pending full-body vaginal orgasm.
After a vigorous 15-minute ride, something incredible was evolving. The deep, internal throb of the vibe, combined with an exact, consistent thrusting motion, set my vaginal wall abuzz. With head thrown back, mouth ajar, and eyes watering, I felt a divine flush, absolute bliss, and an uncontrollable urge. Caught between consciousness and the surreal, I was bewitched by the aura of a pending full-body vaginal orgasm. I squeezed my PC muscle hard and immediately succumbed to a frenetic series of muscle spasms, all of which were beyond my control.
The internal tendrils of my clitoris erupted at my pussy, grew in intensity, and electrified my vulva before turning inward and jarring my vaginal walls with an epic spasm. I sat squealing and helpless as my legs shook and the jolt exploded every genital member and rushed deep into my pelvis.
My pussy and ass convulsed two or three times as I danced the phenomenon that overtook and exorcised my body. Convulsing in waves of impulses, my body shook like a rag doll. Enraptured, astonished, and paralyzed against it, I had experienced an out of body, extra-sensory experience.
The aftershock stunned me briefly. I melted into my chair in an exhausted heap: awestruck, limp, exalted – a goddess. Venus had granted the sublime, ethereal gift, and my glazed eyes saw the Valkyries.
Before scoring a near 100 percent success rate in achieving vaginal orgasm in my sex chair, I experimented with several dildo riding techniques with various results. I found that attaching a dildo to the toilet lid was the most successful mount for me, and it was my go-to masturbation method for a while. But it had its foibles.
In time, and getting cocky (pun intended), I tried to cut corners and spend less time stimulating my clit and vigi and aim straight for the prize. Consequently, I experienced fewer orgasms, demonic frustration, and squished the lactic acid out of my thighs.
I needed a new masturbation technique: a fool-proof method to get me there while reducing the (so-far) necessary 15 minutes of clit/vigi stimulation to reach a climactic plateau. I knew the up and down riding motion was the vaginal stimulation I needed, but my middle-aged thighs often failed me at the cusp of the divine goal. Shoot me now in my epic anguish.
I needed help in a mechanical way and I knew a simple compound machine may resolve my relentless sexual angst and orgasm envy. I talked long-suffering hubby into buying me a sex chair: a simple frame stool of bended metal, traversed by elastic bands. Logically, the rider deposits his or her ass on the contraption and bounces toward sexual nirvana.
Designed for partner use in achieving near zero-gravity sexual positions, the sex chair is a useful tool for female riders, threesome fun, or oral sex of nearly any anatomical combination. The elastic bands afford endless opportunities for contortionist or kinky sex play while saving the quads those exhausting workouts achievable only by world-class gymnasts.
My goal was in reach. I needed a companion piece to the sex stool to achieve my intended result – a raised flat surface suitable for hosting a dildo with a suction base. In a crazed frenzy, I searched the four corners of my house for a portable smooth surface where I could launch my new masturbation experiment.
Fast forward into the kitchen. As I labored and sweat those dreadful 15 minutes cooking chicken breasts in the George Foreman Grille, it hit me. The answer to my exhaustive search – the perilous exploration of closets and the scientific excavation of the garage – lay directly in front of me.
Casting a reflective glint of the setting sun through the kitchen window, lay the holy grail of sex toys – the Nobel Prize of masturbation technology – a smooth surface necessary for dildo suction bases. Assuming center stage of my masturbation repertoire, the glorious plastic bun warmer cover of my George Foreman Grille completed my sex machine.
My dildo attached perfectly to the plastic lid of the grille which I clamped down with a bungee cord. Sliding the contraption under the sex stool, I was ready to climb aboard and bounce like a maniac. I had created a perfect masturbation machine for my needs and in the process, forever altered my chronic anorgasmic state.
After a brief intermission, I’ll return to describe vaginal orgasm as I experienced it riding on George’s coattails.
After pinpointing my G-spot, the next step, naturally, was to lavishly entertain it. Research and development of a sustainable masturbation technique was a rigorous, fatiguing, and sometimes riotous process. But seek and ye shall find.
I experimented with known masturbation techniques to little avail. Fucking your pussy with a dildo on the bed is fun until carpel tunnel kills the buzz. Riding a dildo stuck to the floor or shower wall is for 18 year-old gymnasts and contortionists respectively. Riding a dildo attached to the toilet seat can and does cause orgasms in the rider. This method, however, requires the quad strength of a power lifter and my best squatting days are vague memories.
After an exhaustive period of trial and error, I haphazardly employed an ingenious use for the iconic George Foreman Grille in my masturbation repertoire. The grille’s plastic lid, that simple three-cent piece of petrochemical engineering, now held the power of my orgasm. My pet name for this new giver of pleasure was “The Vaginator,” and my idolatrous devotion was complete.
Stay tuned; on Monday, I will reveal homespun technology for combining a simple cooking machine and a sex chair to facilitate powerful vaginal orgasms.
As I said, locating, stimulating, and engaging my G-Spot was the epiphany from which all future fucks would be measured. It was through personal masturbation that I found my spot and from there, transitioned into squirting and full-body vaginal orgasms. Orgasm was a personal quest for me – it wasn’t easy. I spent countless hours researching the net, subscribing to sexpert how-to’s, and ultimately benefiting from the patience and persistence of my long-suffering hubby.
For those few women blessed by the sex gods, orgasm “cums” easily. It must be heavenly ordained, intricately woven into their lady bits, chosen by Venus herself to experience the ultimate sexual pleasure. Statistically, a measly 25 percent of women orgasm from penetrative intercourse, and those lucky goddesses usually need clitoral stimulation to get there. Translation: seventy-five percent of women DO NOT orgasm from vaginal sex, according to published studies.
Can you imagine a more disturbing rip-off? Eve, the first bitch of Genesis, is likely to blame for the ultimate ruination of the innate ability for women to orgasm. God snapped his fingers, and poof! Women were figuratively fucked: a wretched crime against humanity surely. I’ve read that nearly half of all relationships suffer from sexual dissatisfaction, and the solution seems out of reach for many couples.
Sexual orgasm is the final frontier for women and their partners. I’m working on a future post about an interesting study involving chronically anorgasmic women. Using therapeutic interventions championed by a pioneering sex therapist, Betty Dodson, some 93 percent of those 550 female participants achieved orgasm during the study. You don’t want to miss this fascinating research.
Getting to the Point
Long story short, this rant grew from a companion post about personal masturbation and my sex chair. Next post: I get raunchy again.
I dimmed the lights, lay naked on the couch, and gradually rid my mind of the random bullshit permeating my soul. David Gilmour wailed from across the room and I sighed, exhaling the sins of the day like vapor memories. It felt good massaging my breasts and pulling my nipples – nice the way I could cup them in my hands, squeezing and kneading.
The warmth of my hands smoothing along my torso triggered faint pings in my pussy. The anticipation of penetrating myself elevated my own masturbation to a sense of self-seduction. The fingering I had been doing lately stimulated me to crave it, like my lover’s cock pushing deep and pausing there.
With my new dildo, I would reward my twitching pussy with some well-aimed deep thrusting. I craved penetration, a girthy invasion of my vagina, that thick cock tingle and a full sensation. Starting with my clit, I pressed the vibrator on my clit hood, then spreading my pussy lips and gently circling that protruding boner. Pulses ran deep along the sides of my vulva and into my vigi.
The longer I teased my clit and fingered myself, the more I needed fucked slowly, deeply, and forcibly.
There isn’t much that an 8-inch curved dildo can’t cure, especially with a hyper-sexed clit, and some Zen fen shui. With throbbing vulva, I kissed my vaginal opening with the head of the dildo, swirling around my opening, pushing sideways and touching the inside slightly. This didn’t last long as I grabbed the end of the toy and slowly pushed inside pretending my lover was the hard cock I felt. I imagined him watching my face as he thrust in, paused, pulled out and repeated this delicious fuck.
Grabbing my breast and squeezing the nipple, I pushed the dildo in deep and began moving it around inside. Slowly in, slowly out, pausing and circling around deep inside my vigi. The sensation was extraordinary. I had never felt a cock so deep, so determined, so fucking hot!
The warm dildo worked my pussy as I pushed the vibrator hard against my clit hood. I drew my legs to my chest as the combined rush tingled my loins. I had never felt pleasure like this, nor had I imagined it.
Angling the head of the dildo upward, I began stroking the top of my vagina in search of my G-Spot. My pussy was swollen with excitement and clamped down hard on the dildo. One more foray to the top of my vagina and … WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!
Somewhere just under my belly button, I must’ve touched my G-spot and it rocked my world. Every nerve radiating from inside my pussy tingled and sparked. My legs shook: I was wide-eyed and wild for a few seconds before this extraordinary impulse dissipated. What the fuck was that?! My G-spot? Had to be.
I continued playing with the dildo, trying to recreate what had just happened, but I couldn’t find the spot again. That one hit, that one bull’s eye, so fleeting, yet so incredibly pleasurable that I couldn’t wait to experience it again.
Did I orgasm, I’m not sure, but I acquainted myself with my G-spot and knew it was the sexual epiphany from which all future fucks would be measured. I lay relaxed, exulted, a newly annointed goddess.
It’s predictable, typical, ordained. Like the certainty of dawn, it happens. You’re doing the nasty while preoccupied with the dishwasher, or your crass boss. Maybe it’s an obnoxious rat terrier barking in the next yard or that fucking speeding ticket: anything, everything but orgasm. For the love of god, end this eternal misery. Five hundred nagging, incessant pings in your brain, and your man wants sex. We did this last year. Is there no end to my earthly suffering? Why in the hell does he insist on licking my vagina?
If this scenario sounds remotely familiar, I’m speaking to you. This is sex for many women. You’re banging her hard. You’re sweating. You work furiously for an existential two minutes, shoot your load, and collapse beside her. She murmurs something congratulatory and darts into the bathroom to pee and rid her pussy of your love gun load.
Sex is a demand response for many women. They don’t enjoy it, they don’t feel sexy, and they’re not talking about it. But consider this: as she runs to the bathroom to pee, it’s possible she was close to ejaculating without realizing it. Sexual stimulation of the female G-spot in the vagina causes the genital area to swell with fluid, and expelling this fluid through the urethra (not the vagina) is female ejaculation.
If the sex education gods cared, we would know this. If we were taught anything about female sexual anatomy and stimulation response, we could’ve been sex goddesses sometime in our prime. Those women truly blessed by the sex gods experience vaginal orgasm naturally, but for most of us lacking this ability, twisted Puritanical thinking and repressive sexual mores keep us ignorant of even the slightest sexual pleasures.
Fast forward to the female G-Spot, located on the top wall of the vagina below the pubic bone, just one or two inches inside the vaginal opening. To those women seeking to experience vaginal orgasm, it’s imperative to make acquaintance with your “G.” Learn to masturbate and awaken the sensations of this area and you will be navigating toward female ejaculation and vaginal orgasm.