Thursday, January 22, 2015

Did You Marry The Best Sex Of Your Life?

As though you didn't already have enough damn stuff to worry about, now two surveys have come out saying that if you're a married and/or olderish person, your sex life probably sucks ass. And not in a good way.

According to a survey in the Telegraph, three-quarters of people over 45 think sex became less enjoyable after they turned 40. The average 45+ person has sex once a week and this Sex of the Week--which is generally done in the missionary position, in a bedroom, with the lights off--rarely lasts more than 22 minutes, including any sort of foreplay.

And if all this weren't enough, 31% of people had cut a session short because as the Telegraph so Britishly put it, "They were too exhausted to carry on." "Simon, I do say, I am exhausted and can no longer carry on. If you've not come, perhaps a nice wanking off for you, old fellow?" (In marginally-related wanking off news: I was looking up British slang terms for masturbation and discovered --to my horror--that "jill off" is a vulgar term for female masturbation. How is it that they know?) But anyway, these Brits are so out of shape they can't even manage a boring session of weekly dutiful sex. Brits, mind you! Not drive-thru window-using, cheeseburger-eating, WalMart cart-riding Americans. I can (all too easily) see being too tired to start sex, but too tired to finish sex? Man, how crappy would you feel if your partner just stopped mid-thrust and said, "Eh, I'm too fat and lazy to continue banging you"?

The good news in a study from iVillage was that nearly half of the women surveyed married the person with whom they'd had the best sex of their lives. But it gets more confusing from there. Two-thirds of the women said they'd rather do something else like read a book, go to a movie, etc... than have sex with Mr. Supposedly Best Sex of Their Lives. A huge majority, 81%, described their sex lives as "predictable," but then they go on to report than most of them are quite happy with their sex lives.

I was confused by the whole survey until I saw that only 62% of women "admitted" they had fantasized about having sex with someone other than their spouse. Oh, come on! Clearly this survey is bogus. Never fantasized about another person ever? What are these 37% of women fantasizing about?
Mmm, my husband comes into bed for sex because it's Saturday. He is wearing black socks and turns off the lights. We discuss who will take the kids to the Brownie meeting, then with little to no foreplay, we get into the missionary position. After far less than 22 minutes, we have to stop because we are too tired to carry on. Oh, God, is anyone else totally hot right now? 
As you might have guessed, this is all leading to some questions for you. Namely:
1.  Did you marry the best sex of your life?
2.  Have you ever fantasized about someone other than your partner?  If so, who?
3.  If not, go back and answer question #2, this time telling the truth, and tell us who.
4.  Do you thinking jilling off is a really bad name for masturbating? Mark "yes" or "definitely yes."

xoxo
jill

(note: this is totally a rerun. Data may now be completely wrong so do not attempt any Major Life Changes based on information obtained herein.)

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Why We Fuck

I was sprawled across my bed, utterly wrecked, one morning many years ago. I'd just had amazing amazing phone sex with someone who, to this day, remains the most attachment-avoidant person I've ever met.

"Holy fuck," I mumbled, made dreamy by ravishment. "Why was that so...good? We were on the phone."

"People need connection," he said simply. To my surprise, even he had known this, deep in some barely accessible part of his poor love-avoidant heart. And it had been a connection, an intense sexual communion that felt like something real had happened, even though no body parts had been touched or even seen.

This private connection between lovers--This is why we fuck each other, even though there are plenty of promiscuous toys, pillows, and shower spouts that can do the job quite well. And, yes, it has to be fucking (of some sort) because other human interactions--a nice chat in the bank line, for example--just won't do it.

Bearing witness to someone surrendering to their instincts--just being with them in the moment they lose themselves--is fucking powerful. And to find someone you trust enough to fall into that void with them, well, it's a rare and beautiful gift.

On a less sublime level, I think it's also about being present in the Now and existing in a state of Flow, where you are wholly consumed with what you are doing. These are purportedly optimal (and often needlessly Capitalized) states for achieving happiness, inner peace and well-being. (See also: Ekhart Tolle's  The Power of Now and Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi's  Flow). The orgasm is, like, a bonus to what's really going on.

Caitlin Moran describes this kind of focused-attention-on-another in her book How to Build a Girl about a teenage Brit who transforms herself into a badass music journalist/sexual adventurer:

"Here's the amazing thing about sex:  you get a whole person to yourself, for the first time since you were a baby.  Someone who is looking at you--just you--and thinking about you, and wanting you...You are in a room with a closed door, and no one else can come through it....It seemed to me that this was the real reason people wanted to fuck so much. To get here. To get to this tiny, quiet place where there was nothing else to do but be with each other. Just to be two humans who had--for a short while--stopped wanting."

That idea fits nicely with what I discovered when I looked on PornHub the other day for the Top Rated Video of All Time. It wasn't "Bitch takes cum in her hair" or whatever I was expecting, but a sweet little clip of a sleepy, tousled-haired woman waking her lover up and giving him a blow job. 

This top-rated video--OF ALL TIME!--showed two people portrayed as affectionate, familiar lovers happy to be waking up together in such a nice way. They weren't over-the-top porn excited, but just enjoying the everyday-yet-so-amazing swollen pleasures of taking someone you like in your mouth and/or being taken thus. In the world of porn, this was maybe about the squarest, most vanilla thing ever. And yet it was the most loved...of all time! (For that one day, at least. Today, alas, I can't re-find it. It has been replaced by "Hot blond maid having anal." Top-ratedness is apparently fleeting. )

The point of all this being: sexual connection, in whatever form it takes, is something we all seek, including the millions of surreptitiously wanking users of Porn Hub on that particular day. Even my old friend, dear attachment-avoidant boy, needed this intimacy, albeit from the distance that felt safe to him.

We all need to get this place, however we can--where you get to be two humans who have--for a short while--stopped wanting.

Go find your place.

xoxox
jill

(photo)

Monday, January 19, 2015

Dating in the 20s vs. 30s, Men's Sex Toys, Reader Bad-Assery, and Much Much More!* (*not actually that much more)

Possible outcome of successful date.
20s vs. 30s and The Agony of Being Too Fucking Old to Recall the Difference:  The delightful citizens of the IBWMW Facebook page have been, like, total geniuses responding to my desperate-ish post the other day: 

Problem!! A magazine just offered me decent money for a funny list on the difference between dating in your 20s and your 30s. Except I am 40 fricking 9 and have NO IDEA. Anyone have any insights??? Heeeeeeeelp!!!!!!

Hmm, now looking at it in the clear light of day, that sounds completely desperate and, it was, but less so now because of all the insanely great answers I'm getting there and via email. My favorite thus far is this one from Suzanne:

Dating in your 20s - YES! I got my period! I'm not pregnant! 
Dating in your 30s - WILL I EVER BE WITH CHILD!?

If you have any ideas/insights, send them on in, or just go see what other people put. And just ignore my cousin Brenda's (cousin IN-LAW, actually) comment, "Suzanne, you practically wrote the article! Watch for credit." Brenda put a smiley emoji at the end, but I know when someone's ratting me out. 
  
Men: Need Your Thoughts on Sex Toys for Guys!

Panic x 2. I am also working on an article on sex toys for men and my editor wants to know:
  
"Why are sex toys for women more advanced and more popular, when women are supposed to be more ashamed of sex/masturbation? Why is it that vibrators are basically mainstream, while male sex toys -- real dollz, blow up sheep or whatever -- are supposed to be the purview of losers or a joke?"

Do any of you guys use sex toy (on yourself)--why or why not? Have any thoughts on them one way or the other? Need you, man.

IBWMW Financial Upturn? The Evidence:

 --We have a Monthly Subscriber, like NPR!
IBWMW, also known as one of the least catchy acronyms around, has its first Patron. Yes, I know! A guy named Robert, who I've never previously heard from, somehow figured out how to make automatic monthly payments to the blog via the Paypal link at right and he's really doing it!  This completely blows my mind and floats my boat--though not simultaneously because that sounds dangerous. Yay Robert!

--This month also brought in two donations (!) which is approximately two more than usual.

"
I tried to donate from the FB page, and I got a different page, and no place to donate. Nevertheless, I really like your blog, Jill (or whatever your name really is)" wrote distrustful new reader Mark. Mark found a way to donate anyway through sheer force of determination and full-on manliness. And Mark, my name is actually Jill as listed. Jill Hamilton, in fact, because when I was considering whether I should link my real name to a fuck-filled blog for the rest of my life, I thought "Eh...why not?"

"If a new reader's donation makes you so happy, we seasoned readers should do our part too! Thanks for making me and BF LOL on a regular basis!" wrote Yinna, who makes it sound like donating is some sort of pitching in/good deed sort of thing, like picking up litter. Which, for the record, I am "for."

--I got a surprise check for $250 and my dog Daisy's vet bill the next day was only $249. 

Important Love Is... Update:

 And finally more of my continuing Love is... obsession.

WHAT IS IN THOSE BAGS???

xoxo
jill

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

My Day at the Orgasmic Meditation Class--The Unexpurgated Version

Results may vary
I was lying on the floor, naked below the waist with my knees apart, next to a stranger with two fingers full of lube. The stranger was planning to stroke my clitoris for 15 minutes, no more, no less. I was in a room full of other women, similarly splayed open like Thanksgiving turkeys next to their lubed-up, fully-dressed partners

Strangely, this was not my most uncomfortable moment last weekend at the One Taste's How to OM class in Los Angeles. 

That would be earlier in the day when our teachers Maya and Eli bounded into the room as Bon Jovi was cranked. They were dancing, doing that thing were you point to the ceiling, signifying that the song, indeed, rocks. We were to stand up and do the same thing, including the pointing part. I was mortified. Not only am I petrified of public dancing and forced group merriment (“I can't heeeear you...!”) but... Bon Jovi. I stood stiffly, not able to bring myself to point, not even just a little. It was a really long song.

So to sum up my personal boundaries thus far, Bon Jovi = no, clit stroking by stranger= totally onboard. You might see the situation differently.

Sometimes a lifetime of societal conditioning can fall away in a matter of hours. It happened to me that day at the OM class. And not in a I-drank-the-Kool-Aid way, but in the kind of way where your ideas are flipped but at the same time enhanced, it blows your fucking mind and you emerge better for it.

OMing, or Orgasmic Meditation, is a practice taught at OneTaste, a company founded by Nicole Daedone, author of Slow Sex: The Art and Craft of the Female Orgasm. OM is a practice in which clarity, mindfulness, and general in-touchedness with the universe is reached through extremely focused touch. Specifically, the touch of a partner's hand slowly and rhythmically stroking a woman's clitoris in a particular way. Sessions last 15 minutes and the goal is not orgasm, but rather heightened sexual awareness. And, as it turns out, having someone lavish attention on this particular body part for 15 minutes is extremely effective at heightening sexual awareness.  OM practitioners supposedly develop a heightened sensuality that extends into the rest of their lives, and can experience intense, deeper, fuckier fucks.

That sounded pretty good. I was in.

The class was filled with a balance of men and women, most from late 20 to 40s, I'd guess. The practice was all about experiencing sensation, whatever it turned out to be, explained preternaturally upbeat instructors Maya and Eli. Instead of the goal-oriented, orgasm-chasing sexual experience that we generally go for, we were to focus on the ride, letting things go wherever they were going to go. It was about surrender to the experience. According to the OneTaste philosophy, making focused contact with the incredibly nerve-rich clitoris can generate all kinds of electric sexual energy that can take both parties to amazing places. Additionally, the female gets to feel safe, accepted and non-pressured enough to dive into the depths of wherever her desire's gonna take her. The male gets to explore and enjoy the more (traditionally) “feminine” sexuality of goalless sensuality, plus, quite frankly, he can learn his way around a woman's genitalia.

There are rules. The practice is to be distinct from sex. Practitioners set up a “nest,” with pillows, a soft cushion and towels. The stroking can't go on longer than 15 minutes, even if one or more parties are begging for more. There is to be no exchanging of favors, i.e. “I stroked you, now you finish me off.” An OM is not something a man does to a woman, but something they do together. Gloves are worn. Lube is a must. Orgasm is not defined as the few seconds of contractions that we generally think of as orgasm, but rather the entire experience, starting with the first feelings of desire. The contraction part we generally refer to as an orgasm is called climax and may or may not happen.

By mid-morning we were ready to see a live demonstration. A table was wheeled out and a woman named Rachelle hopped up, lifted her dress and spread her legs. As Marcus, a serious looking computer guy-type with large black framed glasses, put his fingers to her pussy (that's what they call it there-- pussy.), my classmates craned their bodies to see. I looked at Rachelle's completely hairless nether regions and regretted my morning grooming decision to go with a landing strip.

In some sort of weirdly personal hierarchy of discomfort, I didn't mind that there was a half-naked woman groaning evocatively as Marcus (apparently quite masterfully!) stroked her through what seemed to be three climaxes. My problem again was with the whole group participation aspect. As a class, we were to participate by calling out the physical--not emotional--sensations we were having as we watched the OM. “I feel a heat in my face,” someone called out. “I feel a heaviness in my arm,” said another. “I feel wetness in my pussy,” several women said. “I feel completely icked out by the rest of you,” I would have said, especially as someone notified us of how their anus was responding, but I wasn't sure how to describe it as a "physical sensation."

At this point, we were sent to lunch after which we would try the practice ourselves. Because we all knew this and most of us had not come with a partner, there was a strange pick-up bar vibe to the day. Instead of just talking with your seatmate, you'd be assessing them, wondering if they should be the one who'd be touching you. For me, there was also a tremendous anxiety. What if it was like that one 7th grade dance in Atlanta, Georgia, 1977, where all my friends got asked to dance and I didn't? Would I have to get one of the teachers have to OM with me? Would I just sit in my chair trying to act like it was ok while everyone got down to business?

It was all too much for me and when I got back from lunch, instead of mingling, I studied the commerce tables the OneTasters had set up. There were lots of higher level classes, semi-Scientology-style, that people could sign up for. One was a week-long intensive with Daedone. It was $36,000. Holy fuck. There was also a t-shirt that said “Powered by Pussy.” Even among this group, I couldn't imagine that being a big seller.

Finally I went up to Eli, hoping he might let me OM with a teacher. I was wishing that it could it be Marcus, because that dude really looked like he knew what he was doing. He looked like a master playing a rare instrument as he strummed Rachelle. But to my horror, when Eli nixed my idea about OMing with a teacher, I burst into tears.

“Just go ask that guy,” he said pointing to some guy, after comforting my sorry-ass unresolved-issues self. So I asked him. Oddly, the idea of doing so intimate with a complete stranger was way more okay than I thought it would be. When you OM with someone, it doesn't mean you are dating or that you will see them again or that you are even attracted to them. It just exists in this “container” as they call it and is nothing beyond the OM itself. Eli described a woman he had OMed with in Colorado. She was a super-butch, biker-chick lesbian, not someone he was attracted to at all or vice versa, but the electricity they generated together was, well, electric. “It's insane--I go blind from it!” he enthused.  I found this idea to be incredibly freeing.

Thus I found myself pantless and splayed open next to the lubed-up Peter*. I knew his name was Peter because his name tag said so. I found it somewhat amusing that we were like this and wearing name tags, but I didn't say anything.

Peter was to make a C shape with his left hand, lifting the hood of my clitoris with his thumb while stroking the upper left hand quadrant with his index finger. His right-hand thumb was to rest on my introitus, the opening to the vagina. (You can watch a how-to video at the OneTaste web site.) As we got down to it, Peter wasn't actually that close to where he was supposed to be, but instructors came around the room and guided his hand to the proper spots. I felt happy that, if nothing else, Peter was getting an education in finding a woman's clit.

As he rubbed, I could feel myself begin to throb and contract. It wasn't a orgasmic, I mean, climax-reaching kind of thing, but more an aliveness. It felt like maybe Peter's finger wasn't moving over my body, but rather that I was moving his finger. “Behold the glory of the pussy!” I thought to myself, thinking that Peter was—possibly for the first time—seeing the subtlety and great beauty of a woman's body when it is alive, open and free. I felt a bit beneficent about it, if you must know. Like I was schooling him on something really Big and Important.

However, I am 49 years old and about midpoint, I started feeling a shooting pain in my left butt cheek. Sciatica. Crap! I shifted my legs and re-shifted, but every way still hurt. I finished out the session experiencing the sensation of “Ow.”

When it's all over, you're supposed to give each other a “frame,” that is, describe one moment of physical sensation that you had experienced. I was expecting to Peter to say something about how he had been schooled on pussy power but he said, “I didn't think anything was happening for you until the end part when you started moving your legs around.”

So. Yeah.

However, we both experienced something big, I think. It turned out it wasn't the same thing the other had felt, but maybe that doesn't even really matter. It seemed like Peter and I had ended up with a connection, of sorts, and I felt kindly toward him afterward. After, when he was told he had to pay $15 for the lube a OneTaste teacher had handed him, I felt kind of bad I didn't have any cash to pitch in.

In the end, I'm glad I went. It's heartening that there are so many people who want to connect on a deeper level sexually and were willing to explore. And, oddly, I feel empowered that I let a stranger stroke me and that it meant nothing beyond that.

As I drove through the hideous LA evening traffic on the way home, instead of blaring the radio and getting angry as is my usual way, I sat in silence, feeling chill and enjoying the quiet. And I didn't feel like crying anyone.

xoxo
jill

*Not his real name. Which was Ben.

An edited version of this first appeared on Alternet and Salon. I like this one a little better, but maybe I'm like a home seller with the purple walls who refuses to paint over them for the Open House. 

Photo: Rudolf Koppitz

Saturday, January 10, 2015

The Pending Uncircumcised Penis Crisis, "It is Pee," and Other Reader Mail

Prepare for the Big Reveal
How to Behave in the Presence of a Uncut Gentleman.

Hey, you there, with the uncircumcised wang, we need you! Writes reader Definitely Anonymous:

 "I just realized I have a pending crisis on my hands. I may soon be sleeping with a new man who is uncircumcised.  It JUST NOW occurred to me, I have never had sex with a man who wasn't circumcised and I no idea how this might change things.  Is there anything specific I should do or shouldn't do?  Is oral any different?  How do I put a condom on that?  I can't believe after almost 30 years of sexual activity, I am up against something entirely novel. Help me!"

DA and the uncut dude are already talking about his dick, so they are getting close! Get that help in right away! (And maybe DA will explain to us how they arrived at the topic of his penis and the uncircumcisedness thereof.)

The Pee Mystery

"I read this article and remembered your post.  It is pee :(" writes Gentle Reader A. The post A refers to (which A actually located and linked to for me! Go A!) is How to Make a Woman Come, Even if You Are That Woman in which I somehow got on a female ejaculation tangent, as one does, writing "scientists still don't know what the fuck women are squirting when they ejaculate (it's 'not pee,' which just leaves...every non-pee substance.)"
 
Which would have been just as rigorously truish as everything else on this blog, 'cept A's article is titled: Study Concludes That Women Who Squirt During Sex Are Actually Peeing. Oops.

In the study, they gathered (only) 7 chicks who squirted copious amounts (like a cup's worth) when coming. Then commenced science-style sexytime with ultrasounds, "provoked sexual arousal" and "squirting events." Reads the article: "Urine sampled after squirting revealed that the bladder had been emptied again, revealing the origin of the squirted liquid."  Voila! 

What blows my mind about all this is not that we--yawn--still have only rudimentary knowledge of female sexual response, but that scientists apparently can't identify fucking pee?!  (Which, in this case, may actually be fucking pee.) Wouldn't you think pee-identification would be, like, high school chemistry set-level science?

Anyway, further investigation in Female Ejaculate Comes in Two Forms, Scientists Find revealed more insights:
--It took the women 25 to 60 minutes to get close to an orgasm via self-stimulation or masturbation with a partner. Since I don't think the women were trying to have some sort of savored, extended Tantric love thing, I conclude from this that "provoked sexual arousal" is about as arousing as it sounds. So yes, a hour spent dutifully trying to come while antsy researchers did...whatever it is you do when you really really want a woman to come, but don't want to make it obvious that you're just waiting for her to get it over with. I imagine some of you might be familiar with the experience.
--A cup really is a fuck of lot of liquid so maybe some of these more effusive women are peeing, while others are emitting (maybe not the right word, sounds like a ray gun something) what some researches consider "true" female ejaculation, a milky white liquid with some similarities to male ejaculate. Or...maybe it's just milk or Elmer's glue or the white stuff inside Cadbury Creme Eggs. Who knows, really? Clearly not scientists.
--In other words, "scientists still don't know what the fuck women are squirting when they ejaculate." I will, however, expand the possibilities from all "non-pee substances" to "could be anything."

"You in particular might like this"

Is what reader Will wrote, sending me a link to a "Why We Love Orgasm" infographic. However, I wasn't able to give it my full attention, as I became distracted considering the new ramifications (see above:  it might be pee!) of the accompanying article "4 Tricks for Making Her Squirt During Cunnilingus."

"Cascading Wizard Sleeve"
  
Leah's subject line for How Will You Keep Your Vagina Young in 2015?, a Jezebel article mocking a wretched Shape article trying to make you feel bad about a perfectly enjoyable body part. Go read it at once. Including the comments.

Sorry to the writers I didn't get to today (esp. Christina G., Matthew, and Gail).

xoxo
jill

Thursday, January 1, 2015

This is How You Please a Woman.

(*This originally appeared in Alternet and Salon. I hope I'm allowed to run it my damn self...Maybe don't tell anyone about this.)

Yes, everyone knows porn is just fantasy blah blah blah, but for some people, porn is--seriously!-- their primary source of sex ed. Less than half the states require sex ed in public schools and only 19 require it to be “medically, factually or technically accurate”(!) Even when the sex ed is there and semi-decent, there tends to be way too much information on fallopian tubes and little, if any, on what one should do upon encountering a clitoris. People genuinely want to be decent lovers, I think, and scrutinizing porn for love tips can be all kinds of fun, but as a source of actual lady-pleasin' info, it kind of sucks.

“Every technique you learn in porn is wrong. If men are going to porn to figure out to how to please women they're going to be very disappointed, ” says Gail Dines, author of Pornland: How Porn Has Hijacked Our Sexuality. “Everything that makes sex fun--the creativity, mutuality, enjoyment, connection, intimacy--is bled away and in its place is kind of a robotic fucking of women's orifices.”

So, lesson number one: “robotic fucking of women's orifices,” maybe a “no” on that. But with that off the table (at least most of the time...), what you do instead? Great thinkers from Ovid to Master Tung-hsuan to Naomi Wolf have offered their own answers, and there are certain Great Truths that run through them all.

We're getting into the Deep Magic now, my friends. Use it wisely.

Embrace the Erotic Outside the Bedroom
Most men, if you breathe on them or look at them the wrong way, they're ready for action. But for most women, you have to get between their ears before you get between their legs. You have to build the story,” says Dr. Adam Sheck, aka The Passion Doctor.

So build the story. “A man should tell his wife, detail by detail, what he wants to do to her, how he wishes to touch her,” counsels Rabbi Shmuley Boteach in his book, The Kosher Sutra. “Eroticism is the thrilling desire to connect: to know, to explore, to penetrate, and to comprehend. When our lives are electrified by an erotic pulse, all existence becomes illuminated.”

Express Your Desire
According to studies by Marta Meana, president of the Society for Sex Therapy and Research, being desired is the source of a woman's desire. It is “at once the thing craved and the spark of craving,” explains Daniel Bergner in his beautifully written book, What Do Women Want?: Adventures in the Science of Female Desire. So, by all means, let a women that you think her body is insanely hot—so hot you can barely take it--and it's making you hard just thinking about her. (Ratchet this language up or down, filth-wise, depending on the chick.) Tender, respectful love is fine enough but please note that approximately 1 billion percent of romance novels are about a woman inciting a man with a passion so savage and hungry that he can barely control himself. (Spoiler: he doesn't).

Don't Be Afraid to Ravish
The desire to be taken by force consistently sits there, all petulant and non-PC-like, among women's top sexual fantasies. This doesn't mean that women want to be raped, obviously, but it is related to the tip above on desire. Being taken strongly and urgently is a clear physical expression of a male's searing desire for a woman. Bergner describes Meana's take on it thusly: “The ravager, overcome by craving for that particular women, cannot restrain himself; he tears through all codes, through all laws and conventions, to seize her, and she—feeling herself to be the unique object of his unendurable need—is overcome herself.” (See above: plot of every romance novel.)

“For the heterosexual female 'ravish me' fantasy, the man embodies the masculine and takes charge with those masculine qualities to be focused, direct, relentless in pursuing his goal, in this case, loving his woman into 'submission.' This can range from simply initiating sex, to being a little more assertive than usual, to being more aggressive, to being a little 'rough' all the way to role play and using restraints and sex toys,” writes Dr. Sheck. “I’m 6’3″ and around 200 pounds and have found that many woman have simply enjoyed the weight of my body pressing into them and found that arousing. Perhaps that is enough to begin your journey. I also happen to have large hands and usually able to hold both of a woman’s wrists in one of my hands. Even that small step can often be assertive enough to feed into the submission fantasy.” (And if you did not just experience a little unbidden thrill thinking of Dr. Sheck holding you down, well, then that's where we differ.)

Focus on Goalless Touching
“The whole sexual experience can be totally enjoyable, but most men and women are taught to go straight for climax. We educate guys to enjoy the whole ride,” says consultant Robert Kandell, who coached men at Onetaste, where “orgasm” is defined as the entire sexual experience beginning at the first thought of making out with someone. He offers a metaphor: “The climax of a symphony is the cymbals crashing at the end, but that’s not the main draw.

What is “the whole ride”? “Non-genitally focused sexual behavior, referred to popularly as 'foreplay'...is a broad category of activities which are usually undertaken with the goal of increasing one’s own and/or one’s partner’s sexual arousal and pleasure. These activities can include, but are not limited to, kissing, stroking, massaging, and holding anywhere from one part to the entirety of a partner’s body,” writes Dr. Adena Galinsky, in a woefully unsexy passage.

Not only do you miss out on plenty of fun if you skimp on the “non-genitally focused sexual behavior,” you increase the odds of squelching orgasm or arousal, according to Galinsky's recent study. Just don't call it “non-genitally focused sexual behavior” and you should be go to go.

The More Time You Put in, The Hotter It Gets
The mid-7th century sex manual “Ars Amatoria of Master Tung-hsuan” advises much “dalliance before penetration.” “He presses on her slender waist, he caresses her precious body, he whispers endearing words and engages in passionate discourse,” writes the Master. There is extensive stroking, loving gazes, and deep rich kisses until the Jade Stalk rises “standing strongly, pointing upwards like a a lonely peak towering high up in the Milky Way” and the Cinnabar Crevice becomes “moist, exuding a rich flow of secretions like a lonely well springing up in the deep vale.” Even when it gets to the point when the man is kneeling between his lover's open thighs, Jade Stalk in hand—and it's pretty clear what's going to be going down--he continues to tease and woo, letting his member “play about in this portal” while continuing his impassioned speech, sucking her tongue and stroking her belly, breasts and labia.

In another Ars Amatoria (The Art of Love) the Roman poet Ovid counseled lovers of 2 A.D. to take their time in love, too: “If you will listen to me you will not be too hasty in attaining the culmination of your happiness. Learn by skillful maneuvering to reach your climax by degrees. When you are safely ensconced in the sanctuary of bliss, let no timid fear arrest your hand. You will be richly rewarded by the love-light trembling in her eyes, even as the rays of the sun fitfully dance upon the waves. Then will follow gentle murmurs, moans and sighs, laden with ecstasy that will sting and lash desire.” Sigh.
Whether You Think It's a G-spot or Not, Try Stroking It.
"Find her 'sacred spot,' then hang out there far longer that you think is necessary," writes Naomi Wolf Vagina . While scientists are still dithering about whether there is a G-spot or not, Tantric masters have been in there stroking said "sacred spot” and making the ladies come. Carefully, slow stroking of the spot--which is part of the whole neural tangle, but can also be considered to be sort of a back end of the clitoris--is highly effective at making women purr for you. In one study researchers gave 89% of their female subjects orgasms by "systematic digital stimulation of both vaginal walls." This despite the lab conditions and calling it "systematic digital stimulation of both vaginal walls."

Don't Lock In to A Successful Sequence of Moves
A systematic approach in which a man “politely lets himself into the vagina, perhaps waiting until the retraction of the clitoris tells him that he is welcome, is laborious and inhumanely computerized,” writes the ever-blunt Germaine Greer in The Female Eunuch. “The implication that there is a statistically ideal fuck which will always result in satisfaction if the right procedures are followed is depressing and misleading.”

“You want to be present. You want to feel what you're partner's feeling, you want to sensitive to the amount of lubrication, to the engorgement of the labia. And from there, you know when to be rough, when to be aggressive, when to pull on hair, when to smack things, when to be kind,” says Dr. Sheck. “It's really a tuning to the body.”

A Well-Fucked Woman Kind of Loses It (And That's Good)
“Feminine sexual excitement can reach an intensity unknown to a man. Male sexual excitement is keen but localized, and—except perhaps at the moment of orgasm—it leaves a man quite in possession of himself; woman, on the contrary, really loses her mind; for many this effect marks the definite and voluptuous moment of the love-affair, but it also has a magical and fearsome quality,” writes Simone de Beauvoir in The Second Sex.

When a lover stimulates a woman properly, it sets off all kinds of chemical tomfoolery. A lover who suckles a woman's nipple, for example, will set off a release of the bonding love chemical oxytocin and she, perhaps without quite realizing why, will favor that lover over another. When a woman is fully relaxed, open and receiving pleasure she can enter sort of a trance state. And when a woman has an orgasm, she gets a heavy dose of opiates--the regions of her brain involving self-awareness and inhibition going dark. "This can feel to the woman involved like a melting of boundaries, a loss of self, and, whether exhilaratingly or scarily, a loss of control," writes Wolf. If a man gives his lover a deep, deep orgasm, the kind where it feels like his cock is hitting some deep emotional/physical/spiritual place within, a woman can have a profound experience. Some women will feel an exquisite rapture, some will burst into tears, and 100% will take that dude's call next time around.

xoxox
jill
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