Our culture hints that women are “dysfunctional and frigid” if they aren’t having orgasmic sex; yet, it’s statistically atypical and far from the norm. For women pressured with the stresses of work and family, soak-the-bed sex may be their last concern. If they’re indifferent to sex, women may be resistant and suspicious of society’s sexual overtones and propagandized hints of what they’re missing.
Women are quick to blame themselves for lack of orgasm without ever knowing the path to get there. Overall, it’s difficult to engage women in the discussion because sex education ranks low on their priority list. I hope to help change that.
“Veni vidi vici.” – Julius Caesar.
I’m writing this blog because I believe we are under-educated about sexual function and satisfaction and I’m pissed about that. A recovering anorgasmic, I’ve spent a lot of time researching and a fair amount of money subscribing to sexpert advice products learning how to achieve orgasm. It’s not rocket science, but I’ve learned that achieving orgasm for women requires education, personal masturbation, and a patient, willing partner.
I believe that sexual dissatisfaction is grossly under-reported because no one wants to be the odd one out at the fuckfest portrayed in popular media.
I believe that sexual dissatisfaction is grossly under-reported because no one wants to be the odd one out at the fuckfest portrayed in popular media. Pop culture, erotica, and porn portends that everyone’s having incredible orgasmic sex when statistical studies belie the notion.
I’ve proven to myself that chronic anorgasmia is a reversible condition, given the eagerness to learn and a good set of how-to skills. The internet is rife with pertinent sex education and well-intentioned but editorialized advice. Sex is subjective and only empirical to you. There are no cookie-cutter solutions to achieve orgasm, as all women respond differently, but I suggest following tried and tested methods that seem to work for most women.
I intend to write about these subjects, not as an academic, but to subjectively funnel what I’ve learned along the way, e.g., what worked for one sexually repressed, stressed out middle-aged woman.
And, I’m going to jazz things up a bit with seedy, shameful stories of my sexcapades as a blatant satirist preoccupied with a Phyllis Diller complex.
Takeaway: If you’re a “go through the motion” type of lover, she’ll know this and disengage long before second base.
Cunnilingus – the act, the psychology, the pleasure, frustration, and the mystery – men generally like getting head, right? That scintillating touch, stroke, suck, and licking of cock, bringing your member to hard attention, salute.Stimulating thousands of penile nerve endings penetrating deep in your shaft and pulsing the head of your cock. That intense genital stimulation as a precursor to sensual sex…
We assume women also crave those deep vibrations around their vulva and clitoris, stimulating them to intense arousal and begging for penetration. When sucking or stroking a woman’s clit can produce a squealing squirting orgasm, it must be part of the sexual handbook, Foreplay 101. But despite the incredible bliss that a talented tongue and determined fingers can bring, some women just aren’t having it.
Oral Sax lamented his patented cunnilingus techniques that secured his international fame. He uses oral sex as a precursor to exotic sex which primes his partner for orgasm and cements his name among the immortal sex gods. The takeaway is that he enthusiastically enjoys pleasuring women. He attunes himself to a woman’s reaction, direction, and pulls from his bag of tricks to find what works individually.
The best lovers already know this and employ his playbook: learn the skill and adapt your methods to your partner’s likes. Women just like it that way: otherwise, they say, don’t bother.
Curiosity and memories of my own experience with oral sex led me to research female indifference toward it. The same turn-offs were mentioned so often that it’s easy to assemble a short list of grievances in order of frequency: a lover’s talent; her trust (trauma); and her self-consciousness.
“…only harlots and Jezebels enjoy pleasures of the flesh.”
Quickly dispensing with the nuisance religious angle – because only harlots and Jezebels enjoy pleasures of the flesh – did Mary experience heavenly head in her tryst with The Man? Likely censured by frustrated, celibate monks in the 8th Century, the New Testament doesn’t reveal the spiritual pleasures that earthly girl knew.
In the G-rated Bible, the divine romp was written in such nebulous terms that the colossal fuck must be taken on faith alone. To perv the event in literal terms would be lustful, unclean, and scandalous. I don’t know that the Bible makes reference to cunnilingus, but I’m betting Jezebel gave wicked head.
Only Neanderthals skip foreplay when a woman aches for it…
However, imagine a blow job from a disinterested partner going through the motions: no eye contact; no enthusiasm; no creativity; no skills and no friction! Women express the same reaction to lame oral sex, if they even get it at all. Only Neanderthals skip foreplay when a woman aches for it, and the result is a less than optimal sexual experience for her and diminished interest in sex with you.
But if you’re going down there, consider these points from the ladies:
Many women engage in oral sex only to please their partner. If they don’t enjoy it, they’re thinking about work, their shopping list, or another guy. A disinterested partner is an immediate turn-off and a woman will spot this faster than radar. It’s essential that she believes you enjoy her body, her scent, her essence. Without that trust, the odds of her having an orgasm just plummeted.
Unlike patriarchal phallic worship, girls are discouraged from embracing their anatomy. The embarrassment of puberty, menstruation, and breast development are often rife with personal trauma and cultural shaming. A good lover intuitively knows women may be insecure about their bodies and celebrates her goddess attributes.
Some women refuse oral sex to avoid disappointment and embarrassment. Lame cunnilingus is irritating and an endurance chore for many women. Women with body shaming or body image concerns are self-conscious about odor or their genitalia appearance. A woman who doesn’t masturbate doesn’t know which sensations arouse her. Survivors of sexual assault/abuse or domestic violence harbor trust and shame issues which often prevent enjoyment of foreplay, oral sex, and sex in general.
Some women have a very sensitive clitoris and they prefer a light touch. Others are power queens and crave intense stimulation. Some like attention around their entire vulva, the clitoris, the labia, the urethral sponge, their vagina, and anus. Women are hesitant to give direction to their partners about what they like because he/she gets mad or ignores their requests. Explore, ask her what she likes, and unless you’re a Neolithic fugitive, give it to her!
Culturally, women are “givers” in the family and in the relationship. We focus on immediate needs and we are not used to receiving pleasure and being the focus of attention. Keep in mind that many women don’t know how to relax and “receive” foreplay and oral sex. It can be embarrassing to be the focus of attention, especially having your genitalia exposed and open to scrutiny. A key move is to help her relax and compliment her body, her pussy, her taste and scent with sincerity or dirty talk. (Hint: eye contact works wonders here!)
If you’re a “go through the motion” type of lover, she’ll know this and disengage long before second base.
It boils down to knowing your partner and how she responds to sex: what she likes and what she may be hesitant about. The act is a mental experience for women and she needs to trust that her partner has her best interests In mind and a sincere desire to please her. If you’re a “go through the motion” type of lover, she’ll know this and disengage long before second base.
The internet is loaded with oral sex and fingering techniques to improve your confidence and skills. If you want to help her surrender to foreplay, you need to master this power play to convince her she is emotionally safe to relax with you and that she will enjoy the experience.
Copyright 2017 - Sexualista - All rights reserved.
Avoiding the retail mayhem, I stayed home on Black Friday and created a little masturbation bustle of my own. After a pleasantly exhausting orgasmic experience with a mythical Mr. X, I think I knew I scored better than any early bird bargain.
On a lifestyle site that morning, I read the profile of Mr. X, a sexy alpha man who left me horny and aching for a strong masculine fuck. His muscular chest and torso pics weakened my knees as did his profile narrative. His experience and confidence triggered sensual fantasies as I imagined him rhythmically fucking me with charisma, creativity, and porn star stamina.
I imagined him seducing me with an intelligent mix of sexy words and electric body touches. His hands caressing my soft skin and reacting to his touch: his eyes, his mouth, those broad shoulders, strong thighs, and the sexy girth of his torso and hips. He was a Harlequin model, only real, tangible, and offering his brand of sexuality to a woman of his choosing.
I often think that optimum sexual satisfaction isn’t meant to be a team sport.
A strong female myself, my fantasy guy is a leading male to overrule and guide me. I sent Mr. X a message saluting his style, confidence, and masculinity, but I also wanted to fuck him as I desired him to be. People rarely measure up to idealized personas in real-time interactions, but fantasy fucks are the next best thing to sexual nirvana and often better than the real deal. I often think that optimum sexual satisfaction isn’t meant to be a team sport.
I set out to prove this on a skittishly sunny Black Friday. Assembling my go-to toy collection for assured orgasms, I also inserted a thick butt plug for internal stimulation. My pussy twitched as I lubed the dildos and plugged in the Hitachi. I was as horny as I’ve ever been and painfully struggled to avoid ramming the closest dildo in my pussy. I needed this fuck, and I wanted to orgasm with an intensity that satiated my raging hormones and throbbing pussy.
I was so intensely aroused that it took little stimulation to reach an orgasmic peak. I lay back on the bed with my ass propped up on towels for optimal G-Spot thrusting and to absorb those errant juices. I thought of him hovering over me, rubbing his hard cock against my pubic bone, teasing me, grinding on me and slowly moving his cock down to my pussy and taunting me with the head. He ran his hands up my torso and cupped my breasts, kneading them and gently sucking each one as he continued grinding that stiff tool against my vulva.
Imitating his movements, I played with my breasts and slowly bucked my hips to meet his erotic pelvic thrusts. As he slid his mouth down my belly, his fingers lightly grazed my pussy lips and I couldn’t help my involuntary twitch. As I absorbed the moment, his hands grabbed the insides of my thighs and spread my legs wide, exposing my wet lips and boner clit.
Giving in to my now throbbing pussy, I inserted my favorite curved dildo and began stroking my G. His strong hands held my legs apart, his sexy voice and tongue deeply massaged my urethral sponge and he laid hard clitoral passes. My legs were lightly shaking and my pussy was so overwhelmed with desire I was gasping, wide-eyed, and desperate.
“I won’t fuck you now, baby, but I’m giving you a little something to whet your pussy and long for this big cock,” Mr. X said.
“You are more than ready.”
Needing to scream and gush with intensity, I let myself go and waited for release.
He took the glass dildo from my hand and commenced the G-spot massage, increasing the speed and pressure on my G with each thrust. The G-spot sandwich from the butt plug and the dildo was overwhelmingly pleasurable and created a perfect stimulation pressure. Needing to scream and gush with intensity, I let myself go and waited for release.
Flipping on my vibrator, he pushed it hard against my clit and told me to cum. I was transcendental with excitement as my vagina began to pulsate that surreal aura which precedes a Super O.
The pace of him thrusting the dildo across my G, combined with the internal throb of the vibrator, shot through my pelvis an electrical jolt with an intensity I had yet to experience. I winced and squealed as my legs shook and my pussy convulsed in waves, expelling the butt plug from my ass. My clit raged sharply as I experienced an epic pelvic spasm and an intense vaginal jolt. Jesus god, it was ecstasy!
Mr. X softly rubbed my pussy as I returned to normalcy and gathered my wits: so soft; so assured; so comforting. He grabbed my hip, rolled me onto my side and covered me with a soft blanket. He kissed my cheek and whispered that I had won a Super O from the sex gods’ Black Friday drawing and this visit was just the door prize.
Copyright 2017 - Sexualista - All rights reserved.
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.
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.
I hadn’t read much about female masturbation when I started seriously exploring, but I could feel little ripples shooting through my vigi the more aroused I became. I wanted to feel a thick cock swelling my pussy and stroking the sides of my vagina. I wanted to experience my fantasy fuck in real time. A thick cock pushing into me, spreading my pussy wide: lodging deep in my loins, invading me.
I was sexting with a partner and he flipped a switch, turning this middle-aged anorgasmic woman into a horny, aching, inquisitive nympho. So desperately horny, I couldn’t wait to get alone, finger my pussy, and probe those juicy environs.
He instructed me to rub my clit and stroke my pussy through my panties, slowly caressing and pressing in until I could feel the wetness starting.
“Lick your fingers, spread your pussy lips, and stroke that clit. Tug it like I’m sucking it. Squeeze it between your fingers and push it to the left,” he breathed.
I’m breathing heavy. The sensation of stroking my exposed clit radiated deep along the wishbone roots of my clitoris. As he instructed, I held a mirror to my groin to witness my female sexual response. My clit swelled to a boner, pushed out from the hood, and shone its pink goddess glory.
As I rubbed and flicked, I felt electric twitches deep inside: waves of neon nerves pulsating. A sexual epiphany: a rush of primal joy. I now had an intense, possessed yearning to penetrate myself.
I’m tweeting this morning about awakening your inner Goddess. Ladies, employ some Femdom to get the foreplay you know you crave and deserve. NO MORE COCK SUCKING UNTIL YOU CUM FIRST. Reward him well and he’ll cum around. It’s that simple. Soon enough, he’ll get the effin’ picture and you’ll be on your way to some torrid sex. Otherwise, what’s the point?
Without some inkling of passion, some erotic interest, we lay there and take it, hoping he finishes before we forget to turn on the dishwasher. And you can hardly blame him; he’s horny, and unless he’s a total Neanderthal, he’s trying to please. But he needs to hear from you what you like: what turns you from an average vanilla woman into the sex-crazed nympho you fantasize about. It’s a process and an expedition into your own erogenous zone.
Until you begin to masturbate, you don’t yet know these zones. They lay dormant, uncharted, desolate. Until you stimulate and awaken your pleasure zones, you don’t know the incredible realm that awaits you. And until you experience that pleasure dome, you don’t know what trips your trigger and you can’t communicate that to your partner. Stay tuned for my own journey of masturbation – a story of one woman’s map which culminated in learning to orgasm again after too many years of thinking about the dishwasher.