Orgasms: Batteries Not Included

Still coming down from one of the most intense orgasmic highs I have had in long, long, time.  As I sit here legs crossed and type this, I can still feel the aching sensitivity in my clit as it presses up against my panties, and it makes me want more.  It also makes me think I am far too lazy when it comes to self loving’, and that has to change.

True confession time…I am a lazy masturbator.  I touched on this (pun intended) awhile back when I wrote Flying Solo: Myths About Masturbation and Women.  Technology has made me, like most of us, yearn for instant gratification, and I have let that seep into my solo flying time.  For this reason, I envy you men out there because, although there are toys made for you too, I don’t think you rely on them nearly as much as we women do.

When I was 19 and living in NYC, I confessed to my roommate that although I had had sex before, I had never had an orgasm with a partner, nor when masturbating.  She exclaimed, “You need toys”, and quickly planned a field trip for us up to Eve’s Garden on W. 57th St, and there I discovered the world of sex toys for the first time.  I bought my very first vibrator who I later named Pink Pearl.  It was your basic hand-held “back massager” (winky winky, nudgy nudgy), which was really a super compact hand held vibrating clit lover.  The minute I got home I threw some Mazzy Star on my CD player, closed my bedroom curtain (no door to our bedroom, poor college dorm life), and had my first orgasm within 10 seconds!  Bang Zoom!

Pretty soon after that I began having orgasms with partners with ease, the talented ones at least.  In fact, I think my ex-husband was the first man I had an orgasm with, so I should give him credit where credit is due! <insert a round of applause for him here>  But I digress, this is about my solo loving adventures…

Not the same one, but similar to Pink Pearl

Not the same one, but similar to Pink PearBut I digress, this is really about my adventures in self loving…the five to ten fingered kind.

Still, even after enjoying many nights with my Pink Pearl wonder into my mid 20’s, I had never been able to, despite many attempts, been able to make myself com using only my hand.  I found it a little distressing.  I kind of wondered why I wasn’t able to, and truthfully, felt a little ashamed that i couldn’t…like I was broken compared to other women that seemed to be able to finger themselves into orgasm with ease.

One day I was talking with a female friend while we were on a camping trip, and somehow the topic of masturbation came up.  What can I say?  I have some pretty cool friends and some wild campfire stories because of it.  Anyway, I confessed that I had been unsuccessful at making myself cum by hand, and that I had to rely on toys. Lo and behold, I felt the greatest relief when a huge smile beamed from her face and she cried, “Me too!”  Suddenly, we were no longer solo in our touchy situations!  You could just see the weight of judgements we had made about ourselves silently lifted from our shoulders in this moment of female campfire bonding.

In the summer of 2006 I had taken a job that was out of town, and I ended up staying at my mother’s house during the week in order to make the commute shorter.  I was 30.  The nights were warm and humid, and because I love warm weather, I delighted in sleeping with the window next to my bed open so I could listen to the alluring sounds of night.  Now, that year was a lot like this past one for me.  That July it had been a long stretch of months that I hadn’t had sex, and much like now, that meant my libido was on overdrive.  I had forgotten to bring my vibrator with me, and even if I hadn’t, I would’ve been afraid I would have been overheard even in the middle of the night.

That day at work I had a client who was a doctor on vacation from Canada.  He was very tall (just how I like men to be), with short dark hair and hazel-ocean eyes.  I’m not sure what it was about him that made him stand out to me, maybe it was how he smiled at me that seemed to convey a more desirous subtext then what was actually spoken, but that night he became that focus of my fantasies.

By this point I had just succumbed to the idea that I couldn’t bring myself to orgasm with my fingers, but without my vibrator, I was going to have to make due.  I stroked my pussy while I thought of him…his eyes, his lips…and what I imagined the rest of his body looked like.  I slid my fingers inside myself and stroked my g-spot, making sure to brush the length of each finger against my clit each time I would pull them out.  I was lost in this fantasy fueled by fervid lust of a total stranger.

And then I came, so hard, that I was flying high on both orgasmic bliss and total disbelief!  It was well after midnight, but I couldn’t help it.  I was so excited to have brought myself to orgasm without anything else but my touch, that I immediately (once I could pull myself together enough to speak coherently), called the one person I knew who might be up, my long-time friend (and occasional lover) Emrys, and gleefully shared my glorious accomplishment.  You would have thought I had just won an Oscar for it with the excitement that poured out of me.

That was 8 years ago, and guess what?  Despite the fact that I now knew it was possible for me to make myself cum by only my touch, I fell back into my lazy mastrabatory love of technology, and have used a vibrator ever since.  Admittedly, a lot of the time it just comes down to that: sheer laziness on my part.  I know I can make myself cum this way with very little effort, and sometimes, a quickie is all I really want or have time for.  Sleep is precious man!

If there is one thing I know about the world we live in, it’s that everyone seems to want to find a faster, more efficient way to do things.  Sadly, my solo sexcapades have taken this same trend to heart…or part, should I say.  This afternoon was a lesson in why this is robbing me of some deliriously mind-blowing orgasmic fun time.

Flirty Running Friend to the rescue!  Yes, as always with our sexy little texts he made me instantly juicy.  There was that wanton desire again that was unrelenting, and most definitely required an afternoon tryst with myself.  This time I didn’t reach for the vibrator though.  I wanted to fantasize about what his lips and tongue would feel like on me, and there was no way I could do that any justice with some battery-operated toy.

I am get very wet, but I wanted my pussy even slicker.  Lucky Bloke sent me a wonderful gift package of lubes (so much lube, so little time), and it’s high time I make an effort to play around with them.  I used just a little, but oh, it made my pussy deliciously silky to touch.  I stroked the shaft of my clit from the top of the hood to the tip, and lost myself in pretending it was his tongue.  I  took my time.  I reveled in every blissful sensation of my touch.  It was like drawing with electricity on my skin.  I sent him little texts about what I was doing until I could no longer focus on anything else, but my touch and my fantasy of him.

I reached inside with one…two…three fingers, teased myself, pulled out, and went back to stroking my clit.  I slipped my clit between two fingers and lightly squeezed them together around it as I rubbed up and down.  I was trembling with such fierce electric pleasure from each stroke.  This was something new I discovered I liked.  I always like learning new things about my body, even now after I have been long acquainted with what brings it satisfaction.

When I came, it was more intense than I ever do with toys.  And I do love toys, I do (Lelo, you’re the one for me, baby), but this was in another whole realm completely.  It was so much closer to the intensity of orgasms that I have with partners. This totally blew solo sex with vibrators right out of the water!  As I lay there, still shuddering with tremors of pleasure even several minutes after the crescendo of my orgasmic peak had subsided, I couldn’t help but wonder why I don’t forgo toys more often.  I am more than convinced that I need to wean my solo flights off batteries and spend more time learning how to more artfully play the “sin”strument that is my body.  I want to break free from my 90’s “instant gratification” Generation X’er haze and take my time.  After all, why rush pleasure?  Save that shit for the DMV and the dentist office…aka “things we hate that never seem to go fast enough”, My Precious.

And now I leave you with this 90’s flashback, and a little tribute to Flirty Running friend.

Don’t let this go too much to your head, FRF…you’re not the only one I want. =)

Flying Solo: Myths About Masturbation and Women

This summer I was on a road trip with two male friends.  We were an interesting mix, the three of us.  While I have known both of these men for relatively the same amount of time, each I have known at different depths and ways of relating.  The older of the two, Emrys, I have known for 15 years.  I was 22 turning 23 when we met, and he was 45.  We have been lovers on and off to varying degrees for all of this time.  The younger of the two, C, was around 10 years old at that same time, and is now around age 25.  I was lovers with his father for a very brief time.  Emrys is C’s father’s longtime friend.  It is this connection that led to us all knowing one another.

You can see how this would make for an interesting mix, let alone an interesting car ride.

So, as road trips often go, the conversations were many and varied, not to mention, interesting to boot.  Somehow, the conversation turned to the subject of women and masturbation.  Emrys had mentioned how he had seen videos of women masturbating, and how women get off so much more differently from men when flying solo.  Not sure what videos he watched, or where, but suffice it to say that he said that the women were very obviously not just playing with themselves, but really making love to themselves.  This was evident in the way they touched themselves, and how they took their time and didn’t rush the process towards the inevitable goal of orgasm.  This, he said, seemed to be a stark contrast to the way men masturbate.

I had to stop him there because this was such a stereotype, and I myself disproved it on most nights where I was sleeping alone.  Yes, it’s a myth that we are always these languid lovers of ourselves when masturbating.  Sometimes, we just want a quickie with ourselves too!

Yes, not all of us ladies are taking the long, drawn out approach to romancing our vulva!  Sometimes, we just want to get in and get out.  Sometimes we need “take out”, and not the full four course meal.  Occasionally this is about time, but also it’s just sometimes what we desire.  Basically men, what I am saying here is we’re not the loftier side of lovemaking when it comes to getting down with ourselves.  While some of us would like you to think we are, in reality, we’re just like you.

I like to masturbate before bed.  Right now I’m single, so I don’t share my bed with a partner on a regular nightly basis.  So, after the usual bedtime routine of teeth brushing and facial moisturizers, I climb in between my nice cool Egyptian cotton sheets, and settle in for slumber.  Crisp cool sheets feel so incredibly good on warm skin.  This is a great time for some self-lovin’ because I’m all nice and clean, naked, warm, and relaxed.  Basically, it’s a recipe for great sex all around, solo or not.  I tend to always masturbate at night because it’s when I have the most free time.  If I masturbate during the day, which I occasionally do, it’s because I’m incredibly horny, and have alone time, or rather, a combination of both.

I kind of envy you men because it seems like it’s so much easier for you to get off during the day with enough privacy.  We women need to remove far more clothing to do so, and be someplace the familiar buzz of our favorite toy can’t easily be heard.  Well, that’s me at least.  I like my battery operated fun. Coming by fingers alone takes me much longer than daytime quickies in the office bathroom might allow for.  I also envy men, and other women,  that don’t need anything more than their hand to make themselves come, because my vibrator is my best friend when it comes to solo sex.  The first time I came with just the touch and strum of my fingers on my clit, and inside of my vagina, I literally called a friend in celebration!  It was midnight too.  That’s what happens when you’re horny and stuck without battery operated toys for a week.  Honestly, battery operated toys make me a lazy lover to myself, but damn, it still feels good and gets the job done in less time.  Partner sex is where I want to spend my hours, and it never requires the use of batteries. 

On some nights I like to take my time, but honestly, on most nights I want to just do it, be done, and get some sleep.  Yes, that means I want pleasure, to have an orgasm, and then to go to sleep.  On some nights when I can’t sleep, but may not have had the urge to diddle my girly bits, and I’ll end up using masturbation as a natural sleep aid.   This can either work wonders where I fall asleep instantly afterwards, or it can actually end up making me more awake than I was before I started.  I hate when I end up being more awake, but I have found now that if I repeat the process, I will fall asleep. This is just taking all of the mystery out of the self-lovin’ for you guys, isn’t it? Sorry!

Some nights the pleasure is just so delicious that I don’t want it to end, and so I will slow down and keep myself from falling over the edge too soon.  I love this because it just builds the pleasure to that much greater a height, so that when I do eventually come it’s with earth-shattering intensity.  Even then, still not the best orgasm ever.  Orgasms with partners still always seem more intense than the most profoundly pleasurable solo-gasm, to me.

I always fantasize about someone I know, and almost always someone I have already been intimate with, though what I imagine between us may or may not have ever happened.  I like to imagine threesomes with men, each of whom I have been lovers separately with, but never have together.  Nor will that threesome ever really be possible in real life, but oh, it is deliriously erotic to conjure fantasies of, despite this.  I suppose this is why we call them fantasies.  I also have some exhibitionist fantasies as well.  However, some fantasies that I imagine are really true moments that I shared with lovers; I recall and recount every salacious detail in my mind’s eye, and relive their desirous intricacies in full color mental detail.

And if I feel like it’s taking me a little too long to reach my edge, or I’m stuck on the plateau I sometimes get where I just can’t seem to feel like I’m ever going to come, then I have fantasies to combat that too.  I have certain fantasies that will instantly seem to change my inner road block, and bring me to orgasm fairly immediately.  Like you’re heard people say before, orgasm really is 90% in your head.

So there you have it men; myths, busted!