Sigh.
Pretty Lady has tried, repeatedly, to pass the buck on this issue. But it seems, judging by the response to recent postings, that a large number of you have been ignoring her frequent, broad hints about reading Dan Savage. So it seems as though the responsibility falls upon her weary shoulders once again.
Gentlemen, I must ask you this. Is your wife or lady friend frequently out of sorts? Is she grumpy, querulous, impatient, nit-picky, and seemingly absent much of the time? Does she nag? If the answer is 'yes; all too often,' bear this in mind when I ask this next question.
Do you know what a clitoris is?
More than that, do you know how to find it, and what to do with it once you get there?
Gentlemen, these are not unrelated issues. Women, you say, are Mysterious. They go so far as to be Unfathomable at times. They are not direct; they do not say what they mean. They hint, they elide, they say that nothing is wrong. The gentlemen find this frustrating; they get annoyed. In return they call the ladies 'frigid.' They complain that women are not interested in sex; they become downcast, and sometimes seek external company.
Boys, This Is Not So. Listen closely. You may not like what I have to say; you may actively resist it at first. The female orgasm is not a mysterious impossibility; it may be elusive, but it is highly attainable. It also has nothing to do with that bastard Freud.
There is a profound difference, gentlemen, between Turning a Lady On and Getting a Lady Off. The former can be achieved in any number of ways; by playing lead guitar, by catching the winning pass, by backing her against a wall and biting the base of her throat. The latter can usually only be achieved in a single way; by direct, gentle, repetitive, soft, patient flicking sensations on her clitoris.
What drives us stark raving bonkers is when you continually accomplish the former and fall down upon the latter. There is absolutely nothing worse than when a darkly handsome, growly-voiced gentleman backs you confidently over a car hood and commences fingering your panties. He slings you over his shoulder, carries you up two flights of stairs and casts you wantonly upon the futon, unbuttoning your blouse with his teeth. He tongues your nipples and glides his hands all over your shuddering frame, caressing you knowingly in any number of impertinent places. He hammers a row of insistent kisses from your chin to your panty line, stripping away the last shred of fragile silk between himself and your tender skin. He teases, he probes, he overrides your last vestiges of common sense and claims you utterly.
Then he bangs you senseless, rolls over with a sigh of satisfaction and falls asleep.
Boys, I have heard many of you complain about the female tendency to threaten castration, when miffed over personal or political issues. This sort of scenario, I believe, is at the root of this tendency.
Sexual frustration makes women insane. It makes us want to simultaneously burst into tears, dismember a feather pillow and tear the gentleman's hair out. Since we love the gentleman, since we are Relational, we do not do so. We merely become distant, placatory, and passive-aggressive. Can you blame us?
Well, of course you can. This is why Pretty Lady has taken it upon herself to override Freud, and re-educate all the lovely gentlemen of her acquaintance.
The clitoris, dear gentleman, is a small button of exquisite sensitivity, located Front and Center. It can be located by fingering a lady gently, while intently observing her demeanor. The moment she sighs, relaxes, arches her back and rolls her eyes up in her head, you have found it.
Once there, patience is key. You have all the time in the world to lazily caress, explore, strip, probe, nibble, tongue, and roam freely over her sensate skin. A woman's entire body is an erogenous zone. She will lie quiescent and blissfully compliant as long as you are rubbing her back, stroking her hair, sucking her earlobes and twiddling her nipples. But you must come back to the clitoris, and back, and back, and back. All other is in vain, else.
When the moment has arrived to bring your lady to a decided climax, you must be serious, you must be solemn. Juvenile remarks, extraneous slurping noises, negative criticism and needlessly vulgar comments are Right Out. Just because your gonads kicked in when you were thirteen years old, does NOT mean that acting like a thirteen-year-old is sexy. A large part of a woman's erotic temperament is psychological, and you can wilt a sultry female mood quicker than an iris out of water, by reminding her of awful Ronnie Clements from the eighth grade. So cut it out.
No, you must be strong, you must be confident, you must be assertive. You must arrange the lady on her back and make languid, intent circles in the place you have cleverly discovered, while gazing deeply into her eyes. Deliberately, you plant a firm kiss on her navel, and work your way southward. You locate your target and make an experimental probe with your tongue. When she gasps, moans, wriggles convulsively and closes her eyes, continue performing the action which produced this result. Do not stop.
I cannot tell you how important it is that you do not stop.
If you have any experience with playing the bassoon, this will come excessively in handy. Flick. Trill. Tremolo. Maintain a steady, light rhythm. Do not worry about being boring. This is the one occasion when you may repeat yourself ad infinitum and the lady will never even think of complaining.
Flick. Flick. Flick. Do not stop. Do not stop until the lady has gone beyond gasping; until she has gone beyond the ability to verbalize. Do not stop until she has been thrashing from side to side in a frenzy for uncountable seconds, until her body suddenly goes rigid and perfectly still, until she heaves a gargantuan sigh of release and heavenly visitation, and great harmonic tremors go surging through her core. Do not stop even then; do not stop until she cries, brokenly, "Stop! Stop! Stop!"
Then you may slow down. You may broaden your range, you may become creative, you may become gently humorous once again. You may pet your lady.
You may, then, bang her as much as you please; from the front, side, back, against a wall, over a car hood, in any of a hundred tantric positions. She will not be placating you; she will not be concealing any smouldering resentment, she will not ever hint at castration. She may even have another orgasm or two.
But if you repeatedly, selfishly neglect to perform this simple set of actions, you will have no-one to blame but yourself when, full of remorse, you call your ex-lover drunkenly at two in the morning and beg for another chance. She will then declare, with cold indifference, "Why should I bother? YOU never did."
32 comments:
These are the kind of posts that some gentlemen and (fewer, but some) women pay by credit card to partake in over the telephone. How sweet that it is educational and free.......be that as it may....I have to take great reservation, with some comments Pretty Lady.
You may have had a moment of being horticulturallly handicapped in the frenzy of reliving orgasmic instruction...but....an iris out of water???? Please, A guara, a lichnis, any number of soft leafed plants that wilt instantaneously at the moment of disattachment from dtem, but Irises are brave and are somewhat like that clitoral entity in that they are firm and proud and beckon theonlooker and keep their pride and demeanor for a long time. Untilabused, and then are no more.
Otherwise, a totally wonderful post.\and educational post.
I sincerely apologize. Surging inspiration faltered at precisely that point, and being the gimlet-eyed artist that you are, you caught it. This is what good editors are for.
I love that "surging inspiration".
But I cannot imagine you faltering.
Your post had me reeling and my my mind began to have deep metaphorical imaginings...i.e. bees entering trumpet vine flowers and slowly and gingerly making their way to the base inside where all the nectar lies.
Oh well. Is that what they meant by the Garden of Eden?
"Do you know what a clitoris is?"
Why, yes I do. My wife's sister showed me... OK, just kidding. Couldn't stop myself.
Then he bangs you senseless, rolls over with a sigh of satisfaction and falls asleep.
You gotta admit that bein' a man ain't a bad deal atall.
PL: Women are very different. Many years ago, I dated a woman who could barely stand to have her clitoris touched. She said it drove her crazy after a few strokes. The sex was great, but she prefered intercourse.
My wife does not like to be brought to orgasm clitorily (sic), she says it makes the vaginal orgasms less intense. When we have intercourse she has a very orgasm in less than 2 minutes. Lucky her, and me.
And I don't fall asleep after sex. I get hungry. So does she.
Anon.
I post on rare occasions, but I would prefer to remain anon, on this posting, if you don't mind.
...very intense orgasms...
(*Blush*)
When we have intercourse she has a very orgasm
There are, assuredly, women like this. They are either very fortunate, or likely to become the sorts of women who pick a different fellow up in a bar every night and actually enjoy themselves.
I shudder to think how much time I might have wasted on various total losers if I had been constructed thusly.
anon--as for the ex who couldn't stand having her clitoris touched--probably nobody had touched it right. Hear me out on this, folks. Everyone thinks that the shiny poked-out "look at me!" nub is the part that *must* be courted. Watch a woman *actually* masturbate sometime, and not in a porn setting. That's not what she's stimulating, the vast majority of the time.
I won't elaborate; I haven't PL's gift of writing about such a sensitive subject without devolving into vulgarity and crude jokes ;)
without devolving into vulgarity and crude jokes
Indeed, it is NOT easy!
I must return to writing about nice daylight activities, like trips to Philadelphia. I am getting the feeling of being in a room with a bunch of people wearing bags over their heads.
I cannot help but think that "do unto others..." has a profound significance here.
Excellent post.
don't think there's a one-technique-fits-all approach to bringing a woman to orgasm. We're just all so different.
Morgan, darling, you WOULD be the G-spot sex-goddess exception-to-the-rule, WOULDN'T you.;-)
Of course my point was that a real gentleman asks, does not assume.
gy!be, your level of hostility is utterly charming. I can imagine that your lovers feel wonderfully safe and comfortable in confiding their deepest desires to you, dear.
Aardvark, I was so hoping to shock you. Better luck next time. ;-)
Had to chime in. Add me to the list that can't take direct stimulation (using anything). P'raps far too many years of getting myself where I wanted to be (alone) but the result is that I now get my biggest thrill by being ON TOP with my husband inside. It takes me 5 or less minutes, because I know what I am doing and where to put things, before I am screaming. Wish he were as easy! LOL. So not every woman wants to be touched and rubbed or licked or stroked directly on that button. Far too often, it is just too sensitive to have that kind of direct pressure on it. But be assured, pressure on it (from an indirect source) is indeed the main "go" button to push! Each woman's safe has a different combination. However, any man (or woman) who knows the combination to the safe will generally be considered a treasure.
Interesting how there was much less controversy on the Christian Blowjob post...
Us guys are so predictable.
Um... "We guys". I don't want to provoke the grammer police.
That's 'grammar police' to you, dear.
;-)
And that's what makes us ladies so difficult. There is no one-size-fits-all technique. No pun intended.
The underlying issue is that young and ignorant men tend to assume that women should automatically get off when they are blithely doing what gets them off. If the woman does not, they assume there is something wrong with her. Freud did his best to buttress this notion. It is simply an untrue notion, for the vast majority of women, and the men need to know this.
Aardvark, I was so hoping to shock you. Better luck next time. ;-)
Haw haw!
Being an Aardvark who can blush, perhaps I am shockable, but this was just good advice. SOMEONE has to tell the callow yout's.
Who better than a Pretty Lady who cares?
OH!
I just read the Other Post, too.
Well played!
Good...errmmm...job?
Aardvark, you get behind, you miss things...glad you appreciate the sequencing, which was not an accident.
BTW, what's a 'yout'? This is a particular slang that has not passed my jaded ears before.
Yout' = youth.
Think Philly, maybe.
Yes, that's what I get for missing Staff Meetings. I was in Chicago at -honest and for true- a Godzilla convention. They loved our shirts. I loved their enthusiastic purchases.
Feel the love...
Pronounce it "yoot".
Ah. Thank you. My brain was saying "yOWt," and getting nowhere.
I don't understand Philadelphians. They are an alien breed to us New Yorkers, being simultaneously more banal and more debauched. While traversing the sidewalk downtown on Friday evening, we noticed that the man walking twenty paces ahead of us was peeing as he walked. Not standing in a corner like a respectable drunken bum, but actually spraying a trail as he meandered. I have never observed such thorough debasement in my life.
These 2 yoots.
See 'My Cousin Vinnie'
Great yooter
Pretty Lady, I saw a homeless guy crap on the sidewalk on Commercial Street in Boston. Does that count as debased?
As for Gy!Be's comments: Yeah, they sound hostile. But I have to agree that it is beyond stupid to complain to everyone except the one person that has the power to "fix the problem".
Damon Wayans said it best when he said women shouldn't fake orgasms. They should go the other way, act bored out of their skulls until the guy's ego comes into play.
At least that plan would work better than the oh-so popular Wahhhhhambulance.
I mean, if my woman was chomping down during oral sex, you can damn sure bet I'd tell her she was doing it wrong.
For a sex that whines about non-communication so much, why avoid it in such a critical area that can spur a woman to castration?
Great post, BTW.
Michael, I think it's part shame and part ignorance, that closes our mouths in this crucial area. Girls fear grossing people out. How many women do you know who are utterly comfortable with fart jokes? We like men for being comfortable with fart jokes; we hope this translates to sexual frankness and enthusiasm, so we aren't put to the potential embarrassment of demanding something which will then cause our lover to say, 'ew, yuck.'
For a woman, this is about the most deeply humiliating thing we can possibly imagine. A man rolls with it much more easily.
And in reference to the homeless guy--no, I imagine he was just too worn out to bother with finding the nearest Starbucks.
Telling a guy what rings your bell is going to gross him out? With what sort of uptight twits have you been?
Humiliating? Asking for what you want (NEED)???
I'm not saying I haven't been with women who exhibit similar characteristics. I AM saying that I just don't get it.
For me, it seems similar to a SCUBA underwater choosing to drown rather than bothering the guy in the boat for a refill of air.
We can't help it, it's how we're trained from the cradle. Our mothers fear that if we are overtly sexual, if we are raised without shame and the ever-present threat of humiliation, we will find ourselves working in a brothel by the age of twelve. I am not claiming this is rational. I'm just saying this is how it is.
If you have any experience with playing the bassoon, this will come excessively in handy.
Oho! Is that it? No wonder. (I played bassoon in middle school.)
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