As my fingertips parted the opening of my vagina for the entry of the afternoon tampon, I had a sudden flashback to the days when I had sex — with that asshole husband of mine. So I’m slightly hormonal right now. I could really use a hug — and my pizza — if the fucking pizza guy would fucking hurry up and fucking deliver my fucking pizza already! And there’s no reason for this post except that I — Oh, brownies!
Where was I?
Oh, yes, fingers — vagina — tampon……
One of the great things about having spontaneous and stealth orgasms is that I no longer have to fight the urge to clit stim an O while I’m on my period. Sure, sex and masturbating while on my period are fun — a little slippery and messy, but doable with a towel and the understanding that the cervix is tender so hard fucking probably isn’t gonna happen — sorry, guys, will have to be * s l o w * sex, which means it probably will be emotional. That’s not a problem is it? Is it?! IS IT?! — What? They don’t do that in porn??? FUCK PORN!
Okay, so most women will not admit to masturbating with a tampon in, but let’s just assume that at least once in her life, a woman has.
Where is that fucking pizza?!
So I have this flashback to this time (one of several) when I was on top and his hands went from my hips to maneuvering a not so subtle reach-around where his fingertips parted my vaginal opening so he could come inside. I didn’t say anything at the time — I should have — but not only does that feel WEIRD, it can also kinda hurt. ASSHOLE!
Here’s the thing… My vagina is smarter than you.
My vagina is an amazing world that still astounds me. She has her own fauna and flora system, her own pH, her own nerve system that bypasses the spinal cord and plugs directly into the brain, is capable of several different kinds of orgasms, different kinds of lubricating fluids, and she’s just fun to play in.
However…. if the vagina isn’t ready for sex — fully, completely ready for sex — she will not be fully open. A vagina that is truly ready for insertion will be literally O P E N — regardless if the insertible is a penis, sex toy, finger, or oblong vegetable! The juices will be flowing, the tissues of the labia and the vagina swollen with arousal, and the opening of the vagina can even be slightly turned outward toward the insert-er as if to say, “My vagina says YES! Come on in!”
Bear in mind that for many women those bits of odd-shaped edges at the vaginal opening are actually the remnants of the hymen. As such, they don’t have any means of getting wet on their own. This is an excellent example of trickle-down lubrication. Vaginal fluid is clear and most easily created by stimulation of the A-Spot near the cervix. The prostate also creates fluid, but it is thicker and less slippery than the clear vaginal fluid. These fluids have to literally “trickle down” to the opening of the vagina in order for the opening to be lubricated as well. So splitting the vaginal opening with the tip of a finger, penis, toy, or cucumber when the vagina is NOT ready for sex can be awkward for the woman, if not downright PAINFUL.
So guys, please… “Foreplay” actually has a function. Foreplay does not exist to make the guy wait to come inside. Without foreplay or some kind of stimulation that really gets the vagina hot and bothered, the beginning of sex can be painful. (And you perhaps wonder why a woman is a “cold fish” during sex???!!! Just “lays there”????!!! Well, that happens when your body radiates with pain, asshole!)
Just 15 to 30 minutes of breast worship, sensual massage, yoni puja, and/or cunnilingus will do just fine. The time required will depend on the woman, but since, statistically, the average guy only lasts 2 minutes once he’s inside, I’d think you men would want to drag out the foreplay as much as possible, too.
Please note, however, that a little fluid at the gates doesn’t mean the whole vagina is ready. For me, a few quick stealth O’s only takes seconds to experience, and I can feel the rush of fluid press against the opening tissues. I part the opening carefully with my fingertips — with very short, trimmed nails, thank you! I feel the texture of the fluid and know what kind of fluid it is — usually clear, vaginal. But just being wet doesn’t mean my vagina’s ready for my purple silicone friend, Sparkles.
Men, I love you. Honest. And because you love us, do your woman a favor. Just because you’re ready to come inside doesn’t mean her vagina is ready for company. Enjoy the rest of her — her body, her mind, her sense of humour, her emotions, her humanity — and remember that the woman is more than just a warm, wet respite for your erection.
Fuck… I’ll just make Chess Chewies.
Aroused and opening,
Being an activist is a hard job. Mainly because it is a relentless pursuit of justice — bringing awareness to the masses who prefer drinking the KoolAid and caring more about the latest shenanigans of the Kardashians or newest “American Idol” results. Also, the activist pay sucks — usually in the low $0′s.
Occasionally, my loudmouth Twitter crew and I break from the drivel of enlightening the sheeple and go off on our own inner tirade of ridiculousness to relieve stress. Yesterday was one of those days.
With little preamble, I simply and humbly provide for your viewing pleasure what might be the greatest fake smackdown ever. It will live in infamy (in our minds), and I hope it brings a smile to your face. Just click the picture to the left to see it.
And to Michele — It’s ON, bitch!
On Twitter: @AnArousedWoman
As I lay in bed this morning, trying to delay getting up and starting my day, I allowed my self some of my now customary stealth orgasms. These then led to spontaneous O’s, i.e., the just-thinking-of-O’s orgasms and the where-did-that-come-from-’cause-I-wasn’t-doing-anything orgasms. These “integrated,” stealth orgasms are not explosive or exciting in the usual sense — I’m sure if someone were to look on, he or she would be very bored. But somehow, they are fulfilling to me.
I waited too late to start actual genital stimulation for a blended orgasm because just a few minutes into it, I heard sounds from beyond my bedroom door signaling the child was awake. I sighed in frustration. I was not so far into the process that I would have that nagging, swollen, pulsating vulva and tingly/ itchy feeling all over from not finishing. But apparently I’d done enough in that short amount of time that as soon as I withdrew my fingers from my slick inner depths, I could feel contractions in my vagina, my PC muscles, my anus, in my legs, my abdominals, and fluttering in my ribcage. Great. My body was having the after-orgasm echo effects, but I didn’t get to savor the blended O — or any genital O — itself.
Strangely, I didn’t feel sexual frustration. I guess the numerous stealth O’s from the nipple and OM/clit stim had been enough — or had heated up my parasympathetic nervous system enough — that my body was satisfied even though “I” wasn’t.
I listened intently and heard the child go back to her room. I thought about resuming but decided to enjoy the after-shocks instead. I closed my eyes and sent my focus to various areas, enjoying the internal swelling of aroused vaginal walls, the natural undulation of my hips, and the overall sensation of fulfillment that is similar in feeling to standing on the beach and feeling the wind washing over my face and body — as if the cosmos has given me a gentle hug and in its wake is an enveloping energy that is infinitely soothing. That is what the stealth orgasms feel like — they go through me, over me, under and around me, and I feel completely light as air and satisfied in a deeper sense than I’ve ever known.
“Allowing” is often seen as “giving up” or “giving in,” so chasing results often becomes a requisite for existence in daily life and business. Being “in the moment” to enjoy what you’re feeling now, in this moment, not the next, not later, not comparing to last time, but now is to be in true harmony with your body and in true bliss.
Orgasm is not a goal to be won or achieved, it is a moment to be experienced and savored just like every other moment.
“Orgasm” literally means “to swell,” but common thinking has led us to believe that orgasm is the end of a sexual experience. It isn’t. Orgasm is actually the beginning of the sexual experience, or the process of getting to that precipice of “la petite mort” explosion. And if we focus on the end of the experience then we are missing out on all the other, smaller but just as beautiful and important experiences along the way: the arousal process, the true orgasms, the more subtle, true orgasmic process of excitement as it swells in each moment.
Rather than actively going forward, reaching for some pre-determined end or idea of “climax,” allow your self to receive the moment. Receive the orgasm that is happening right now. Feel it wash over you… Be grateful… Now feel this moment… Allow… Receive… Be amazed… Be grateful… Now feel this moment……
Orgasm is not the end. Orgasm is the process itself, a process that doesn’t necessarily need an ending.
Aroused and allowing,
In the South we like to eat a dessert called by various versions of the name, “Chess Pie.” As with most dishes, the recipe is slightly different depending on the region you’re in, but mostly it’s a very sweet dessert. Where I come from, we call it “Chess Chewies” because it’s baked in a 9″ x 13″ cake pan rather than a pie plate and cut into small “bars” rather than wedges.
The recipe I was taught only has 5 ingredients: yellow cake mix, melted butter, eggs, softened cream cheese, and a criminal amount of confectioner’s sugar. When people ask for the recipe, I tell them the 5 ingredients. They look perplexed. “It can’t really be that simple,” they are thinking as they take another bite, smushing it around in their mouths to masticate every morsel and decipher the hidden riddle of flavor I must be keeping from them. Invariably, they ask me if there’s lemon in it. No. Coconut? No. Pineapple? Nope. Such is the mysterious, sweet, but rich flavor profile of Chess Chewies… as I make them anyway.
Recently, I experienced quite a surprise while playing in my vagina.
Because I’m obsessed with vaginal health, I frequently do finger checks of my lady’s loins. Working from home, I can wash off after going to the bathroom so I’m in a constant state of fuckability. And if I get the urge, I’ll do a finger check then to see what’s happening inside during the daytime. In the shower each night, I do a check to make sure the vaginal fluids and prostate fluids look and smell right. *** I only use my finger inside my vagina — A clean finger and water — that’s it! NEVER soap or ANY cleanser! And I NEVER douche! ***
Vaginal fluid is clear and slick, but prostate fluid is creamy/opaque and can seem a little sticky. (I would say it’s actually more “tacky” feeling than sticky, but I don’t want people to think my vagina is tacky. She’s beautiful! ).
Anyhoo, I’m well acquainted with the look, smell, viscosity, and taste of my fluids during the day, at nighttime, during arousal, and after orgasm… and yes, there is a difference in both fluids depending on the kind of orgasm and how many I’ve had. I can’t describe the smell, per se, I guess you just have to know what a happy, healthy vagina smells like — I wouldn’t call it “earthy” and certainly not “musky” (who thought that name up anyway?!). But it is definitely my smell, and I love it.
Best of all, I love holding my hands over my nose after I’m done with orgasms and just inhaling the scent which is even more complex because of how I use my hands during the arousal process.
I’ll start with my right hand on my clit, dipping a finger just inside the inner labia to moisten and go back to the clit. Then I’ll finger inside to get the prostate and the “spots” warmed up. When I can feel the spots emerging from the vaginal walls and the prostate swelling and its texture changing from roughly smooth to more ridge-y, my right hand goes back to my clit or I’ll start massaging the inner labia with my fingertips. Eventually, when I’m ready to get this show on the road, my left hand goes inside to tend to my prostate and spots, while my right hand stays on the clit with long strokes or OM-touch/circles. Occasionally, I’ll dip the right hand in again to get more fluids for the clit, and well, it feels good. But by that time, the in-and-out thrusting of my left hand is bringing plenty of fluid up to the surface for my right hand to coat my clit with.
I can feel the change in the fluids as they get thicker, heavier, and I can even smell them from there. As I near the first blended orgasm, I feel the clitoral cuff tighten (incredibly so! I almost can’t fit my two fingers in, but somehow I manage). And through the orgasms, the fluids keep coming, and I go until my hands simply can’t do anymore — my natural propensity is to bring my hands over my head during orgasm, so working my lady’s loins proves to be an enjoyable battle of wills between my hands that want to bring more orgasms and my mind that is too far gone to think logically and strategically about hand positions.
After the orgasms, my hands are covered in various states of vaginal fluids. The right hand has more of the pre-arousal and mid-arousal fluids and smells, while the left hand is saturated in arousal juices and the fluids that gushed from my vagina and prostate during the orgasms’ many contractions. Each hand smells differently and in different places — the palms smell different than my fingers. As I hold my hands up to my nose, covering my nose and mouth, I inhale deeply. I cannot believe how delicious this smells! Even better is the knowledge that no matter how many times I wash my hands that day, my orgasms will still be embedded in my skin, and I can revisit my orgasms in my memory by just holding my hands up to my nose and breathing in.
So recently, I have been having some interesting experiences with various styles of orgasm, and one day, about a month ago, I brought my hand up to my nose during the arousal phase, and recognized the smell instantly but it wasn’t a usual odor for my vagina. I did a double-take — or a double-whiff. And sure enough, I was smelling “Chess Chewies!” I’ve always loved how I smelled, and the Kama Sutra describes women’s vaginal and ejaculatory fluids as “sweet nectar of the gods,” but I never actually smelled like a dessert before.
I know that what you eat affects the smell of sexual fluids in both men and women. And I’ve been working hard to lose weight, so my food habits are a bit different. But to actually smell like Chess Chewies was awesomely weirdly awesome. I thought this must be a fluke — maybe that doughnut binge was seeping sugar into my vagina?! Except that this is what I have smelled like ever since — Chess Chewies!
The real test will come in a day or two. I started my period Wednesday, and here on Saturday, I’m on the last day of spotting. The smell is okay, but it’s metallic due to the blood. I can only hope that the dessert smell is a permanent fixture of my vagina. I mean, I already love her so much, can she possibly get any more incredible? I guess so!
And yes, the thought did cross my mind, that if I constantly taste and smell like dessert, my future partner won’t mind if I make hourly oral sex a rule of the relationship… Right???
Aroused and sweet,
My Musical Theatre training is probably to blame.
I need even less stim than ever, ironically — one or two flicks of a fingertip, and the orgasms start. They are full-body and oddly satisfying, but my back isn’t arching as much — I can’t even feel my cervix dipping down anymore, or it’s too subtle to notice. The orgasms flow through my body rather than “hit” my body or “explode.” And the ceiling fan is no longer a potential mate.
Whenever a new development occurs, it is usually startlingly noticeable. So very different, so impactful that I have to notice the new reactions my body is having. Then after a month or two, the initial effects fade, or become integrated, and I have to re-learn my body all over again.
But I don’t like starting all over again… okay, it’s not starting “all” over again, but it seems that way. As soon as I learn how to drive this thing, it adds another gear I have to learn to maneuver. In fact, when I occasionally go back and read what I’ve written, I remember the experiences in the post vividly, but it feels like they happened so long ago, that it couldn’t have been just a few weeks ago?!
The couple of times I’ve had the opportunity to use my purple friend (vibe sans batteries) — a couple weeks ago and this morning, a plethora of neighbors has been home in the adjacent apartments. I am now more convinced than ever that SOUND is crucial to bliss. The arousal isn’t as satisfying when I can’t make my loud sounds — not intentionally loud, but just my natural exclamations during the arousal and orgasmic process. And when I can’t be as loud during the orgasms, the orgasms are not as full-filling. They don’t fill up my body. Because my focus is on my body (my voice) remaining inside/ internal (i.e., quiet), the orgasms are localized to the genital and lower abs area but they are not explosive, they are full body wave-like, minus the full body aspect. And they’re not as emotional. So really, I am very annoyed right now.
That being said, I did a hands-on blended O early yesterday morning that was stunning. I haven’t been spending quality time with my prostate like she deserves… seems I’ve been all over these nipple/spontaneous orgasms for the past month, and now that they’re seeming to fade in intensity, my prostate is reminding me she likes to be loved on, too.
Since I can’t be loud much anyway, this is causing me to wonder if I should put my purple friend aside for a while. My initial reaction is a horrified, “NO!” The deep thrusts hitting the AFE/A-spot is the only thing that brings on the crying/uterine orgasms… though… oddly enough, the nipple/OM orgasms have been inducing tears and a softer emotional pull (rather than the deep/core emotional response). And I can keep them going for a while — for as long as I feel like playing with my nipples or my clit. (I’ll alternate so nobody gets sore.) The whole time I feel this swirling of energy in my torso, pushing outward, sometimes upward like it wants to come out my throat/voice, but vocalizations during these kinds of orgasms are more glottal stops rather than moans — I might see if I can specifically direct that energy next time (tonight!).
And while I’m at it, I’ll just mention that I’ve had the strangest, spontaneous shooting of energy down my left leg. It happens while I’m at my desk, especially if I’ve had a scalpgasm. The energy going down is a new one for me. Since starting Kundalini work, I’ve tried to focus on energy going up the spine and down the front. These scalpgasms go around the back of my head, up, then down my neck to my back. Very different for me. Also, when I’m in bed, I will barely brush my fingernail over my left hip flexor, and the entire skin area of my left leg zings with energy — feels like a million little ants are crawling on my leg at once, only it’s not creepy like that. It feels tingly fabulous. (I’m getting tingles across the back of my head, and down my arms and legs just proof-reading this!)
All of this leads me to think that I’m in a down-swing, or at least in a phase of integration. The bad news is my Irish impatience is gonna get really frustrated with all this… again… I thought I was finally learning how to Yin, but this is bringing the Yang to the fore like crazy. The goal-oriented, severely attached to the outcome part of me that I had been able to subside is raising doubts, disappointments, insecurity, and fear. I don’t like this one bit.
The good news is that every time there’s been a valley, the next peak has been breathtakingly amazing. So I’m trying to keep the Irish/Yang in check for the next five weeks. We’ll see if I feel more freedom as school starts, and I’m alone during the days again.
Guess, I’ll need to stock up on potstickers till August 7th.
Aroused and integrating,