Arts, Activism, Awakening in Mind, Body, & Spirit

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RADIO: Trish Causey Hosts a LIVE AskTrish Show on Female Sexuality


Nude Woman Beneath Orange Chiffon Sheer OrganzaTonight on ArousedWoman Radio with Trish Causey, I tackle the subject that is the source of my awakening and the raison d’etre for ArousedWoman(TM) — Female Sexuality!

TUNE IN at 9:00 p.m. ET to hear Trish Causey Hosts a LIVE AskTrish Show on Female Sexuality.

Just a few of my topics tonight:

  • A few readers’ comments and questions submitted via my AskTrish page
  • The perception of women’s sexuality in society and religion
  • Why women’s bodies are still considered overtly sexual and not plain ol’ human
  • Double standards in TV and media between men’s bodies and women’s bodies
  • FEMALE MASTURBATION!!!!!!!!!!
  • What women want from sex, and HOW we want our sex!

Listeners can CALL IN with your questions or comments by dialing (347) 884-8792 or calling in to the show via Skype — click the BLUE SKYPE ICON on AW Radio’s LIVE page.  You can also post questions and comments in AW Radio’s LIVE page chat room (opens 10 minutes before the start of the show).

I’m really looking forward to this one! :-)

trish

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DailyOJ 02-12-13: Sheet Orgasms


nude-woman-redhead-arched-back-in-orgasm-300I’ve found a new way to enjoy my stealth orgasms — the orgasms that are brought on by little or no physical touch.  I wasn’t looking for a new approach to my quieter, yet, oh so fulfilling full-body waves of bliss, and yet I have stumbled upon “sheet orgasms.”

While doing the barest of nipple stim and reveling in delicious nipplegasms, my legs open wide of their own volition.  My hips move in their own dance, and my head is back in breathless euphoria.  With it being colder now, I sleep with my duvet cover on, and I happen to be snuggled under the covers this morning.  I move my hand to my labia, first outer, then inner labia, loving the change in her texture and posture.

My inner labia begin close to my vagina, but as arousal progresses, my inner labia extend upward, outward, as if standing at attention — the frilly edges more taut as they fill with blood in their own erections.  Barely brushing my fingertips across my erect labia, the full-body waves begin, and I feel expansion in my heart chakra.  I’m still amazed that slow, barely-there touch is so fulfilling, and infinitely more tender than hard frigging off.

I’m back on to nipplegasms, having gotten into a pattern of nipplegasms then barely-there gentle-touch clit O’s, and back again.  On the weekends, I do this for hours, not getting out of bed until around 2 p.m. — except on the Saturdays I make a concerted effort to get up by noon to catch the vendors at the farmers’ market.  But this is Fat Tuesday, Mardi Gras, and everything is closed.  I can stay in bed all day.

Back arched and head back, the nipplegasms are on auto-loop at this point.  As my knees part wide, falling open 180-degrees on the bed, the weight of the duvet presses the sheet toward me.  The sheet brushes my erect inner labia, and a jolt of energy surges up my body.  I thought it was a fluke, a wonderful accident, but I try it again, lifting my hips slightly.  Sure enough — ZAP!  There it is again.  I lift my hips the same way, and the full-body waves begin.  My hips circle several times, make figure 8′s in both directions as I learned in belly dancing, circle some more, then lift and lower in a plain ol’ back and forth motion.  I am breathless as the stealth orgasms fill me and energy zings up my legs and arms, with that familiar energy spiral in the ball of my left foot, sending energy outward.  The sheet has just become my new boyfriend.

Trying a few things, I learned that once the sheet is in the correct position under the weight of the duvet but not actually resting on my vulva, manipulating the sheet is not required, and any other touch of my genitals is not recommended.  The barely-there brushing of the sheet across my inner labia is all I need to induce these wonderful, deep feelings that can only be described as orgasmic waves that crash against the shore of my body, sending billions of tiny pinpoints of pleasure up through me and expanding outward.

Sheet orgasms… who knew…

Aroused and pricing 1500 thread-count Egyptian cotton,

trish

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DailyOJ 01-23-13, Part 1: Knees Up, Glass Toy Orgasms


Copyright 2013 by Trish Causey. All Rights Reserved.
Nude Woman Masturbating Solo Self-Love in ChairBack on my own during the days, I have taken to using my glass toy (which I have not yet named :-) ), along with trying a slightly different position for my legs, and getting some great results — probably helped with my breast massage regimen and breath+sound work I’ve borrowed from Tantra and Kundalini practices.

For my orgasm sessions, I begin with just laying back and relaxing, breathing normally, letting my mind let go of the thoughts that are still buzzing across my conscious self. After 10 or 15 minutes — I don’t time it, I move on when I feel ready and mind-full (of nothing!). I start the relaxation breaths, adding in the occasional “Aum.” This lasts for maybe 15 minutes.

I add in sensual massage. Usually, I’m careful not to touch my nipples or I’ll start having energy orgasms immediately. I’ve found that if I start the massage on my clit, it lessens the sensitivity on my nipples (slightly, and only temporarily), but gentle, barely-there caresses of my clit and labia are simply luscious.

I may move to my nipples (more often than not, yes, I do) for some amazing stealth orgasms, or I’ll lightly brush my fingertips across my left hip which triggers jolts of energy up my leg to my left nipple, hardening her immediately. My right hip is not as quick to react and the energy is more subtle, but my right nipple still hardens into a pucker, reaching up to a point.

Many times recently, I have stayed there — just doing the lightest touch of my skin, my nipples, clit, and the inner and outer labia. Barely brushing my fingers over my clit shaft starts full-body orgasms that have my legs coming up, my back arched, and my head back facing the pillows, and I’m left breathless. I can keep these going for a while. These kinds of orgasms are different than “traditional” or manual orgasms in that these don’t take ANY work :-), and they’re like riding clouds of energy, with energy waves hitting my body like water crashing onto the seashore. I’m energized by the orgasms rather than being worn out after my usual blended orgasms (which rock my world but are exhausting).

Pressing my fingertips into my outer labia, I can feel the thick, corded bands of the PC muscles. Barely grazing my outer labia, they feel like velvet, warm and throbbing. My fingertips barely whisper across my inner labia which are still reaching outward at this point — they will lie open soon. This touch can start labia-gasms, and I can feel the texture of the inside of the inner labia change as the bloodflow to the tissue increases.

I’m still new to the direct, purposeful stimulation of my U-spot, the erectile tissue around the urethral opening. This area is usually stimulated without intention during blended/penetrative orgasms, but I am now focusing on the U-spot to help encourage my journey into female ejaculation.

Bringing my knees up to my torso definitely shortens the vagina, and it makes using the glass dildo easier on my wrist due to its curve. This makes for a wonderful stimulation of my prostate. Since the glass toy is narrower and shorter than my purple silicone friend Sparkles, it also feels more like a directional finger than a “toy” or penis substitute. I can definitely feel the tip and side as it rubs across certain spots (yes, the female prostate has more “spots” than just the G-spot/She Spot). Moving the glass toy back and forth, curving up at the side ensures the side of the prostate are stimulated as well — and this feels delicious.

Stimulation of the prostate, and most areas inside the vagina, are not as “pin-point” as stimulating the clit, but the vagus nerve and auxiliary nerves definitely make up for it by creating a feeling of a bubbling, churning cauldron of arousal energy that is ever-building, ever-growing, expanding outward through me and upward into the torso and heart chakra.

I consciously push out when stimulating the prostate directly — contrary to what “popular” opinion says to do with the stupid Kegel exercises (which actually inhibit vaginal orgasm). I LOVE the feelings that overtake me — like I suddenly have to go to the bathroom, like my insides are about to fall out — because I know my prostate is about to hit her stride and bubble over into full-body orgasms. I push out and remind myself to breathe — sometimes I catch myself and realize I’m holding my breath. There is a fetish of choking for some few-second orgasm that is ridiculous and dangerous. Oxygen FEEDS orgasms — breathe, breathe deeply, breathe fully, taking the breath into my belly and down into my pelvis…  Breathing is essential to life and to orgasms… though saying “life” followed by “orgasms” seems redundant….

The double layers of muscles that line the vagina begin to rock and roll, and I manipulate them to keep them strong — so I don’t lose my skill of giving “vaginal blowjobs” (moving the vaginal walls in such a way as to give the penis the feeling of being sucked very powerfully).

Read * Part 2 *  here.

trish

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DailyOJ 11-13-12: Reality vs. Fantasy


The past few weeks, I have had issues with blended O’s — the few times I’ve done them (right hand on my clit, left hand stimulating my prostate), it’s either taken a long time — 30 minutes, or I’ve given up and gone for my purple silicone buddy, Sparkles.

Mainly, I’ve noticed that I’ve become ambivalent about using Sparkles when my spontaneous orgasms keep me happy all day and my stealth nipplegasms, subtle (one-finger barely moving) clitgasms — even labia-gasms! — are so fulfilling orgasmically that I don’t feel the need for penetration (at the time)… (It’s the rest of my waking hours that I’m horny as all get-out and want something that’s wide and hard inside me!)

I have also noticed that when I go for a length of time without doing the blended orgasms (both hands stimulating), it takes longer to bring myself to orgasm when I get back in to it.  It’s as if I have to stay in practice with it the way a pianist has to stay in practice with the piano to keep up his technique, or the training starts to drain out of the muscle memory.  For these body-centric orgasms, it’s not just my fingers and wrists that have to stay limber to bring about orgasm — my entire body has to “train” for orgasms since they are full-body experiences, especially in the abdominal area, my legs, and glutes.

I’ve been adjusting to the integration of the non-explosion clitoral part of my blended orgasm.  It’s just weird to not feel it.  But these new orgasms are amazing.  Instead of feeling that hot explosion at one very centralized point (the head of the clit), the orgasms feel like a huge, powerful wave crashing against the coastline of my genitals, and I am thunderstruck by their intensity.  With Sparkles, the blended O is very similar, yet even more powerful because of the added sensation of being penetrated and having it stimulate my A-Spot and cervix as well.

During the hands-on stim, I love feeling the changes to my prostate.  She is just awesome!  I’ve even discovered a few new  spots within my prostate!  I’m learning their signals, what it means orgasmically when I start to feel them emerging from the rougher texture of my aroused prostate.  One of these spots is toward the left, the other two are toward the sides of the prostate (which is very important to stimulate as well!), along with my already discovered She Spot.

What’s been interesting to me has been my legs.  A few minutes in to each hands-on session, my legs start shaking wildly, uncontrollably.  I feel my glutes clenching and unclenching.  My hips are rocking, reaching up repeatedly in their own rhythm. And here is where the problem begins…

Since I’ve got the physical part of the stimulation down, I’ve been trying to enjoy some fantasy time in my mind during arousal.  Usually, I try to picture my Dream Man being the one to do all this stimulation (which would be much easier on my wrists if he were!).  But I’m so in awe of the changes in, on, through my body that my mind doesn’t want to leave all this awareness of my body’s process to climax.  As soon as I try picturing Mr. Dream Man, I lose some of the arousal (slightly).  For some reason, I’m not interested in thinking of women… so that’s another issue to deal with another day…

I don’t do “fantasy” — as in made-up time, place, setting.  And I know instinctively that it would not work for me, so no, I won’t try.

Between the extended time to orgasm via hands-on stim, not craving penetrative Sparkles sex, and loving my body’s changes more than I lust after my Dream Man, I know I’m at a crossroads.  Don’t know what’s around the corner, but I’m taking a peek and will meet it head-on… and hands on. :-)

Aroused and feeling,

trish

For more of my personal orgasm journey, read Trish’s DailyOJ.
Visit the AW site: Aroused Woman


DailyOJ 10-19-12 Part 2: Integration of Clitoral Orgasms & Disappointment


* Read Part 1 here. *

Also, this September, I noticed how my clitoral orgasms are not as explosive and separate from my vaginal/prostate orgasms as they used to be.  Instead of an obvious explosion, that typifies the clit orgasm, my clitoral orgasms have become much fuller, more like full-body expansion up my torso and through me in waves rather than being localized to the clit in a hot quick burst of release.  These new clitoral orgasms (in conjunction with prostate stim) have been amazing.

My prostate orgasms have been insanely intense, and yet I have not felt the awakening in my prostate that I had hoped for since resuming my practice in August.  I could still be in a time of adjustment, or my prostate could be so integrated now that my body is now accustomed to the sensations that were once so new and startling.  (Which sucks because I love when my prostate is so awake I literally can’t sit still.)  However, I know my prostate is very much awake and attentive because I have urination orgasms almost every time I go to the bathroom.  And of course, the blended orgasms are truly out of this world.

On a side note, since crossing that threshold into being 40, I have noticed since September that I’m not as wet as I used to be.  I know my caffeine intake is too high, and I’ve been forgetting to take my fish oil, but not being crazy-wet all the time has me concerned about my hormone levels as well as my hydration and diet regimen.  I eat pretty well — on the rare occasion too much sugar, but nowhere near what I used to consume.  So I’ve made a conscious effort to lay off most sugar/starch, take my fish oil, eat my dark chocolate, and drink LOTS of water.  I can tell when I’m properly hydrated by the prostate orgasms that radiate through my torso and up my spine to my scalp and face when I go to the bathroom.  No orgasm while urinating?  CHUG ICE WATER.

I’ve been trying to do my Sparkles-assisted sessions on Monday, Wednesday, Friday — during the day, since I’m loud, saving my hands-only, quieter, blended, wake-up O’s for Saturdays and/or Sundays.

Today, I experienced again what had been happening for the past couple of weeks.  Starting the session later than I prefer puts me in a bit of a stress mode since I like to have my “lying broken” time first to clear the mind fuzz.  If I have less than 3 hours, I usually don’t bother. But today, I had less than 2 hours, but really wanted to have a session, so I went for it… which may have been what set me up for the resulting disappointment.

By not having my “lying broken” time, the mind fuzz was all a-chatter in my head.  Life, work, this blog, Twitter, updating my site, hoping I can raise enough funds to start my radio show and forum, organizing my own orgasm training method in my head — my mind would not slow down, shut off, or shut up. And yet, I proceeded.  Pathetically.  I did about 15 minutes of sounds on Aum, doing light sensual massage.  After a minute, I had some light nipple-gasms (disappointed that it took that long).  A few minutes into the Aumming, I started clit massage.  Took a good minute to get an OM-clit-gasm.  (Disappointing.)  Trying to put a finger in, there was vaginal fluid at the opening, enough to insert my finger to stim my prostate, but certainly not enough to accommodate my purple silicone friend, Sparkles.

This had been going on for a few weeks now.  Too much caffeine and not enough vag fluid.  I always use lube with Sparkles, but now being 40, the idea of being one of “those” women who can’t get wet sent a panic through me.  My ex used to complain about how wet I got during sex — he would pull out and use the sheet to wipe me off till my vulva was bone dry and he could get friction (the fact that it hurt me didn’t seem to matter) — what mattered now was that I may have wasted over a decade of being a natural female ejaculator with a man who hated my amount of fluids!  Somewhere in my psyche, I may have shut that down, and now being 40, the natural hormonal changes to my body might prevent me from ever ejaculating!  GRRRRRRRR!!!!!!  (I’m not sure about this as a point of fact, but that was the fear that ran through my head… as if I had room for more mind noise…)

So what the hell was the point?!  Why am I doing this?! Why don’t I just stop — call it a day?  I’ve done that before.  This time, I couldn’t just stop.  I wasn’t having a female blue-balls moment (yes, we can  get those).  Quite the contrary, I could have very easily just gotten up.  But I was so annoyed that my routine was interrupted by starting late, my vagina was dry from my over-consumption of caffeine, and my mind would just not shut the fuck up.  And now it was glaringly obvious that I was so attached to the outcome, I couldn’t just end the session out of separation anxiety… What if my fabulous, life-altering orgasm journey is caput?  What if the ride is over and the cosmic carousel operator is trying to get me to move the hell on — and what, take up knitting?!

Granted, the “worst,” most “disappointing” orgasm nowadays is better than the best orgasm I ever had prior to beginning this journey.  But I feel like I’ve learned so much about myself, and I have so much more  to learn, that it just can’t be “over!”  It can’t continue to be a series of technically great orgasms that don’t resonate with me vibrationally!!

GRRRRRRRRRR!!!!

So I soldiered on with Sparkles, had a physically great orgasm … and then, the worst did, in fact, happen.  I cried… but not in euphoria, but rather in disappointment.  This was the first time that I remember crying out of the lack of something, something was missing, and I was sad in my heart.  It dawned on me later that what’s missing just might be a physical partner.

Having soared to incredible peaks on my own, I know I’m more than ready for a partner, but my current life circumstances prevent me from pursuing pleasure with someone else.  This is not only sexually frustrating, but it hurts my heart.  I believe I have a great deal to offer a man, especially in the sex/orgasm department, but I can’t pursue anything until my divorce is finalized.  And so Asshole — my ex — still has a power over me.  I fear that having any kind of sexual relations “outside of marriage” (though I moved out 2 years ago), will be used against me to the point of losing custody of my daughter.  That is exactly what has happened to other women (it’s part of living in a Bible-thumpin’ Red State).  Another added layer of mind noise moves to the forefront.

I feel suddenly broken in many ways, and yet, I’m at a fork in the road, but I don’t know which way to go.  As a friend told me, my energy is scattered.  I know my heart is here with my activism and ArousedWoman(TM).  Hopefully, my emotional heart will be able to find its place with a partner soon enough… Bring on the ice water!

Aroused and scattered,

trish

For more of my personal orgasm journey, read Trish’s DailyOJ.
Visit the AW site: Aroused Woman


DailyOJ 10-19-12 Part 1: September & Crawling Out of Yin


I’ve been trying to figure out what is going on. And I’m not any closer to understanding what’s happened with my progress, except that what started out as a great upswing in August seems to have already begun the cycle downward.

September was, once again, a month of huge transition for me. On the good side, I gleefully entered Cougar-dom.  But personally, I was going through a lot that I can’t write about in a public manner like this (yet).  Last September, the end of my Karmic Year, heralded the end of an amazing year professionally, personally, and orgasmically, only to turn my bliss upside down with the death of my theatre mentor, my father had to have multiple operations, and my daughter was ill.  I’ve never noticed September to be such a gateway of abrupt change before.  Perhaps because change is already in the air each September with the arrival of Autumn, the end of (most) fears of bad hurricanes, my daughter’s new school year beginning, my birthday, and it is the month before Samhain (the Gaelic turn of the year and honoring of ancestors and those who have died).

With all the focus on my theatre writing career, getting ArousedWoman kicked into gear, my daughter starting high school, and other things that ground me in the mundane, I had felt the loss of that higher vibration that I’d been swimming in since September 2010.  That September, I had just moved out of my miserable marriage, was starting my new gig writing about theatre for a major online site, and began my journey on energy orgasmic awakening.  It was truly wonderful back then.  September 2010 to September 2011 was astounding and life-changing in so many ways.  September 2011 to September 2012 was wonderful, too, as well as trying and frustrating, but ultimately rewarding.

From an orgasmic point of view, my SASO’s (stealth and spontaneous orgasms) had not been so stealth or spontaneous.  The instant nipple-gasms were not so instant.  Granted, I no longer needed my O’s to be stealth — I’m home alone during the day again. But the nipple-gasms now took 30 seconds or so of stimulation to start the orgasm ball rolling — same with my not-so-spontaneous OM-clit orgasms.  Also, my body did not react the same to these orgasms.  My back arched but not as much or as suddenly as when these type of orgasms first began.  Nor were these orgasms fractal as they had been during the summer when I could literally have orgasms for hours just by barely touching my nipples or the upper left side of my clit, or even from the brush of air from the ceiling fan!  Compounding this, the after-O’s were not as strong nor lasted as long.  I was not having deskgasms, leg-gasms, heartgasms, urination-gasms, scalpgasms, or face-gasms.

It’s as if I somehow became unplugged from the multiverse’s orgasm channel.  I’d lost my ticket to the cosmic bliss train.

Is it the end of the world?  No.  Is it the end of my  world?  Quite possibly.  When everything else in my life is crazy and uncertain, having the bliss of my SASO’s was like a calm in the storm.

Now, I know the men reading this just want me to get back to talking about my vagina, or my clit, or anything other than what they probably consider “nagging.”  But as a woman, this mind fuzz is a big part of why women aren’t sexually satisfied.  We worry.  A lot.  The worry keeps us in the mundane when orgasms, particularly the energy-based orgasms, require the psyche and spirit to be free to lift up to a higher vibration, and by leaving the mundane physical behind, the body rises up to the higher vibration and, therefore, to true orgasm, rather than the person settling for climaxes that are limited to the manipulated reflexes of the mundane meat-suit.

In truth, I realized sometime during the summer that my over-allowance of Yin was affecting me adversely in my personal and even professional life.  I will write more on that at a later date, since I’m still crawling out of that experience.  But September 2012 was the lowest of the low points in regard to Yin taking over.  Life circumstances presented me with the choice of wallowing in a more self-destructive version of  Yin or begin the climb out and start fighting again.  At the time, I choose to climb and fight.  I lost the mundane battle, as I thought I would, but at least I fought, and that was a huge milestone for me in my journey toward balance.

Don’t get me wrong.  I had welcomed Yin — I was too extremely Yang in life, career, and sex.  I needed to learn to allow and to receive.  I appreciate the lessons learned from Yin.  However, somewhere between the allowing of Yin, the rising of sexual Chi through Tantra, the awakening of the Kundalini serpent, and the overall self-discovery of spontaneous cosmic bliss, my awareness pendulum had swung too far into the realm of Yin.  I was too much the observer and not the do-er, the receiver not the initiator.

This is crucial to understand because, for me, orgasms are no longer about sex, being sexual, or being physically, sexually satisfied, but rather, orgasm is about plugging into the super-consciousness, living in a higher vibration, and enjoying the lift-off to the Other Side.  Riding that wave is like leaving the body behind for a while and swimming in total awareness of the cosmos, surfing above the clouds in an energy that is almost indescribable.

All of these revelations were important to my growth.  They signify I have more work to do on my self.  This requires patience, acceptance, and time.  And that really sucks.

* Read Part 2 here. *

Aroused and climbing,

trish

For more of my personal orgasm journey, read Trish’s DailyOJ.
Visit the AW site: Aroused Woman


DailyOJ 09-10-12: Sick & Tired, Unexpected Emotion, & Energy


As I laid down to start the session, I wondered if I’d be able to do it.  I had come down with something that felt like a cold.  I felt weak and tired.  My nose had alternated between runny and/or stuffy, and I was coughing.  I realized then that this cold must have been starting early last week, when I had the clit debacle.  My body must have, in her wisdom, been redirecting energy to my immune system.  Experiencing orgasm, especially manually stimulated orgasm, takes an inordinate about of energy — chi, prana.  This is why physical orgasms are exhausting while energy-based and spontaneous, Kundalini orgasms recycle and grow energy.

Not knowing what to expect, I made the conscious decision to be in non-attachment.  Being tired (at 1:00 in the afternoon, no less), I wasn’t sure I could do a full session anyway.  I made an agreement with my body to just experience whatever there was to experience, and I would be satisfied and content.

Similar to last session (and most sessions), I started with my nipples.  But there was excruciating pain.  My period is well over a week off, so why such painful sensitivity, I had no idea.  I massaged the underside of my breasts to stim those nerve endings, and gently brushed my fingertips over the nipple tips, and that helped to lessen the pain.  The nipple orgasms took a minute longer to achieve than their usual instant O’s, but I was glad that they were “working”…. and apparently was back in an ego mindset of “keeping tally.”  I re-set my mindset to non-attachment, and my hands headed south.

Doing a simple, small, barely-there caress on my clit, these orgasms took a minute or so to get going as well.  My SASO’s seemed to be on coffee break.  Everything was going to take effort today … just when I’m sick and tired.

As I checked for readiness at my vaginal opening, I was almost bone dry.  I’d been feeling “parched” in my throat and feared I’d be dry vaginally, too.  Sure enough, I was.  Thinking back, my caffeine levels were way too high compared to my water intake.  Caffeine is the death of orgasm because of its vaso-constriction of blood vessels — and both men and women require healthy blood vessels for arousal and physical orgasm.

At this point, I knew I probably wouldn’t do anything with Sparkles.  A little lube is always used with Sparkles, but starting out not wet and relying only on lube for moisture leads to “friction sex” and that is painful.  With my immune system low and my SASO’s on vacation, I knew this would be hands-only today.

I started by creating moisture, continuing nipple O’s and clit O’s.  This brought on enough fluid that I could insert my fingers to love on my prostate. As she grew with arousal and her texture changed from smooth to ridged, I started on my clit with circles.  I did not wet my clit.  In fact, I usually start with dry fingers on either side of my hooded clit.  This allows me to get a hold on the clitoral shaft, stimulating up and down the shaft as well as across the head.  (Note:  Do NOT try this on a woman without her permission.  I know what I’m doing and what I’m feeling.  If using dry touch, definitely let the woman lead.  And pay attention to her reactions!)

I didn’t even pay attention to the time.  I just enjoyed whatever was there to feel and savor.  All of my previous concerns melted away as I got close to orgasm — I could feel my prostate was swollen as were the clitoral vestibules squeezing in like a vice-grip on my fingers.  The blended orgasm was powerful and seemed to keep going and going.  I finally had to stop because I could not manipulate my hands anymore.  I was exhausted.  Then it happened.

I cried.  Emotion had bubbled beneath the surface last time, but this was emotion that I experience only after deep-thrust, A-spot/uterine orgasms.  I felt that same outpouring of happiness, sadness, joy, wishful thinking, and longing that I feel after penetrative orgasms.  I’ve never actually cried after a blended orgasm, but this was a great experience.

I looked over at my toy and thought, “What’s the point?”  I was incredibly satisfied so I didn’t need the penetration — the rapid finger-thrusts on my prostate had taken care of that need.

As I lay back, the after-O’s in my vagina, vulva, abs, and legs were so palpable, I had a spontaneous orgasm or two.  The energy pulsated through me.  I noticed I was having similar muscle spasms in my right bicep.  After a minute or so of very strong muscle contractions in the bicep head, the spasms moved around my arm to the triceps, and eventually faded as the contractions in my vagina, anus, abs, and hips slowed down.

Hours later, at my desk, I felt an energy radiating outward from my vaginal opening area.  If you’ve ever seen a stylized drawing of a sun, with rays beaming outward in all directions from the perimeter of the sun center, that is what this felt like.  This energy kept pulsating outward, a steady rhythm from my vaginal opening center, outward toward my legs.  I don’t know how long this went on, but other energy zaps and zings occurred on the outsides of my legs, scalpgasms that circumferenced my head and tickled my face, and even spasms on the bridge of my nose — didn’t think there was any muscle there — that seemed to last for over an hour.  In fact, they continued when I was back at my desk later, trying to work.

Overall, this was an interesting experience that left me breathless and deeply satisfied physically and emotionally.  The unexpected emotion was as welcome as the after-effects of spasms and energy zings.  I’m excited to see and feel what else happens.

Aroused and non-attached,

trish

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DailyOJ 09-04-12: Prostate Stealth O’s, Weird Energy, & Storms


I had felt a weird buzzy energy all day — all week, actually.  The hurricane had not really broken up once it hit land as it was supposed to.  Instead, Isaac is heading south, back toward the Gulf.  We really don’t need this thing to re-form as a hurricane.  But the energy in the air is absolutely electric.  And that part, I love.  I feed off storm energy — odd since storms are more associated with water, and I am a Fire spirit.  But lightning is Nature’s fire, so I am acutely aware of the electricity in the air.

I had just re-started my journey August 8th, gotten some great sessions in, and then Hurricane Isaac forced school closures for a week which tied in with the Labor Day holiday.  But, now I’m back to being alone and able to continue this journey… until the next unforeseeable interruption… Grrrr…

With the energy, I truly felt electric.  I couldn’t sit still.  I just wanted to walk outside, play in the rain, the deluge outside, revel in the energy I had been feeding on for a few weeks.  Yet, this constant rain makes me want to sleep.  I sleep so amazingly well when it’s raining outside; the steady rhythm calms me regardless of the thunder.  This Yin-Yang of energy pulling me toward either extreme at any moment felt like a sexual tension that needed to be rubbed.  So I decided to pursue that.

As I began, I had my delicious stealth and spontaneous orgasms (SASO’s).  I’ve needed to start with the nipple stim to “tone down” the sensitivity in my breasts, just so I can do some sensual massage with the KSMO and OM touch.  I did KSMO for about 4 minutes but my voice started to hurt, so I stopped.  I tried some light OM-touch, but that erupted in more SASO’s, so I stopped trying to do anything that was “practice” and just went for some prostate love instead.

My prostate was very receptive to touch, and my vagina was wet from the nipple and OM orgasms.  I did some absentminded massage/caresses on my inner thigh and up my torso, wherever my hand wanted to go — I wasn’t really thinking about it.  I noted the changes in my prostate as arousal deepened.

I also noticed how much I love the feeling of my breasts.  I don’t have anywhere near a “perfect” body, but I honestly love the feel of my body.  I especially love the feeling of my breasts, their shape and satiny smooth skin.  The underside of the breast has a super concentration of nerve endings, nerves that are connected directly to my clit.  The spinning ceiling fan blew drafts of air across my breasts, and the otherwise smooth areolas puckered up like they’d been dipped in ice water as my nipple tips grew dark pink and strained upward.  I noticed I didn’t feel a zing of energy to my clit.  I figured my prostate was overwhelming the nerve switchboard in my brain, so I just enjoyed the exquisite feel of the sensitive skin of my breasts and my puckered tips.

Feeling all lovey-dovey about my body, I figured I might as well do a hands-on blended set of O’s to get started before moving on to Sparkles for the main attraction.  And yet, several minutes in to it, I wasn’t increasing arousal in the clit area.  My prostate was getting very aroused and wet, but I felt almost nothing as I did circles with my clit.  This went on a few minutes more, and I exclaimed (in my head), “What the hell’s wrong with my clit?!!”

That about put me in an observationist panic.  Not only was I not allowing and receiving the arousal process, but for some reason, I had become attached to the outcome.  Non-attachment was on coffee-break while the Yang energy was rearing its competitive head.  I had worked so hard to become more Yin, to release the go-getter aspect of Yang energy.  And I wrote not too long ago that I was worried my sessions were going so swimmingly, they were becoming mechanical.  Well, obviously NOT!

I was more frustrated with myself for “blaming” my clit for not doing whatever I preconceived she was supposed to do than I was upset that my prostate was aroused and my clit wasn’t.  I let off my clit and moved my right hand to my breast.  I was not “going” for a prostate orgasm — those take forever.  In the old days, a G-spot/vaginal-only orgasm would take a minimum of an hour and sometimes up to 90 minutes to achieve.  Exhausting!  I didn’t have that kind of time, and frankly, I wasn’t looking for that much of a cardio endurance workout.

After just a few strokes inside on my prostate and a couple barely-there touches on my nipple tip, I had a SASO/prostate/She Spot orgasm that hit like a Kundalini orgasm with all the full-body waves of a 90 minute prostate pumping marathon.  It was shockingly powerful and utterly delicious!  My back arched uncontrollably, my legs came up as I would expect with a K-orgasm, but this was deeper and even more full — because of the prostate involvement.

I lay there afterward rather speechless and trying to process all the feelings in my body.  It was incredible.  I felt the after-O’s, my hips were still moving, my abs still contracting, my breathing took a while to return to normal.

Then I disappointed myself by reaching for Sparkles.  The disappointment was that I wasn’t going to use Sparkles in a beautiful moment to see what there was to feel.  I knew ahead of time, this was about my clit, and I had to make sure I wasn’t “broken.”  I stopped using vibration to induce orgasm almost two years ago due to numbness in my clit — that took over 6 months  to begin to feel sensation again.  I was terrified something was wrong — that the start, stop, start, stop of my practice was interfering with my progress so dramatically my clit had had enough and wanted no part of it. (NO!!!)

Long story short, Sparkles worked his magick on my prostate while I found a groove with my clit, and the ensuing orgasms were intense and induced the standard emotion.  However mechanical my process and the resulting orgasms and emotion had seemed to become, they are gold standards now, and anything other than amazing orgasmic highs now sends me into a panic that something’s wrong with me… clearly, I have cobwebs in my mental attic that need addressing. Could use a can of Mindfuzz-B-Gone… if it existed.  No, I’ll have to process this the old-fashioned way.  One orgasmic session at a time.

Aroused and regressing (Grrrrrr…),

trish

For more of my personal orgasm journey, read Trish’s DailyOJ.
Visit the AW site: Aroused Woman


DailyOJ 08-29-12: Stormy Weather, Labia-gasms, & Emotion


Outside my bedroom window, I could hear the trees branches hitting the roof, the rain pelting everything, and the wind blowing.  I opened my eyes to see if we had power – we did, and I promptly snuggled down under my sheet. The steady rhythm of stormy weather and a cold, air-conditioned room combine to make a recipe that sends me off into a sensuous half-sleep, drifting over to the Other Side, but still anchored here.

After getting up and checking out the apartment and the balcony, everything looked fine.  Well, for a hurricane, that is.  My outdoor plants are in the middle of my livingroom, my kitchen counters are covered in water bottles and prep supplies.  Thankfully, we didn’t need them.  We were safe and dry.  So I could go back to bed.

In bed, my mind noted the irony that this was the 7th anniversary of Katrina and the 2nd anniversary of my moving out and becoming a single mom.  Moving out was, in effect, the beginning of my journey to reclaiming my identity and my sexuality.  Hard to believe it had been 2 years already.

Since I wasn’t alone in the house, and my neighbors had hunkered down for the storm as well, I didn’t even attempt having orgasms… at first… some just happened — I didn’t mean to… The room was cold.  Sue me.

With the rain outside and my ceiling fan spinning above me, I lay in bed with the sheet off my breasts and legs, just covering my vulva area, to keep her warm and juicy.  I absentmindedly started some sensual massage, and my nipples perked right up.  The areolas puckered so tight I had  to rub on them, and off I went into my SASO’s.  When my nipples calmed down, I did a little OM-touch on my clit, and was off again.  This went on back and forth for over an hour, having SASO’s, taking a break for a few minutes then starting again.

In between sets, I checked my vaginal opening for juices.  Sure enough, yep, there were juices after each set, which, for me, verifies that these are in fact productive orgasms.  Not that anyone would challenge me on this point, but these O’s are so very different from regular stimulated orgasms — amazingly fulfilling, full-body orgasms, but different.

I was very wet, and I couldn’t help but spread the love all over my inner labia and clit, then a little bit further to my outer labia.  My juices were warm and slick, viscous, and smelled wonderful.  Enjoying the feeling of my labia, I gently massaged them with my right hand; my left hand was up behind my head from the last set of O’s.  Before I knew it, I was off again!  Having orgasms from stroking the inside of my right inner labia!!  I have never done this nor have I ever anticipated orgasms from such a seemingly innocuous area.  I kept stroking gently and rolling the lip edge with my fingertips throughout the O’s, until my hand had to go up over my head as well…. Dammit.

A little later, I tried stimulating the U-Spot to help trigger an orgasm there, but I wasn’t feeling it… so I thought…

With the juices flowing and my vagina in YES! mode, I had to slip a couple fingers in.  I smiled because I love the vastly different temperatures between the cold room, my hot skin, and my warm wet vagina.  She truly is awesome.  I stroked my prostate, but just to notice the textures, not to lead anywhere.  My right hand came out as my left hand slipped in.  I know it’s serious when my left hand wants in.  I would more than likely be very busy for the next 10 minutes or so.  And sure enough, with minds of their own, my hands conjured a delicious, complex blended orgasm or series of orgasms that seemed to  last longer than they usually do.  My mind has become so observationist on what is happening in my body, I try to notice every nuance that is happening both inside my vagina — the vaginal walls, the juices, my moving She Spot, the texture of my prostate, the clenching of the inner clitoral bulb, as well as with my outer clit as she begins to hide so close to orgasm.

This blended orgasm was truly wonderful — so much so, I actually made noise, which I don’t normally do with hands-on O’s.  I tend to associate noise-making with the penetrative thrust action and A-Spot reach of my toy.  I kept the orgasms going as long as my hands could function, but even they needed to heed the call of the Great Orgasm God/dess and fly up over my head as my back arched and my legs kicked — also something I don’t normally do with hands-on O’s… the Kundalini responses are usually the realm of the SASO’s. Hmmmm… makes me wonder what’s going on… and why am I not doing hands-on blended O’s anymore?  These are awesome.  Will definitely pencil them in my next session.

Then the unexpected happened.  I felt this welling up of emotion, like I was about to cry.  I was just at the verge of actually crying, felt the tears, the sudden intake of breath, but I was so shocked by the need to cry that I think I stifled it unintentionally.  I lay there for a minute.  I felt the need to cry again, but I was so aware of it, the crying melted away.

I began to focus on my body and the after-O’s happening in my genitals.  My hips were still moving, my legs were beginning to calm down, and I was thoroughly sated.  Better yet, I was happy.  And the room was cold.  My nipples were getting tight again, and all I could think was that it was a great start to another year as a free, whole orgasmic woman.

Aroused and happy,

trish

For more of my personal orgasm journey, read Trish’s DailyOJ.
Visit the AW site: Aroused Woman


DailyOJ 08-24-12: Double-Dipping, Sporadic Awakening, & New Responses


Copyright 2012 by Trish Causey. All Rights Reserved.

I didn’t feel the need for laying in bed an hour or longer, to relax or process out mind noise.  I think I was “lying” broken” for less than half an hour, doing my SASO nipple-gasms and OM clit-gasms, just to tone down the sensitivity in my nipples and clit — otherwise I’d just orgasm through my KSMO session… (apparent fail — I still O’d through my KSMO session).  I did about 14 minutes of KSMO, using a mix of nipple stim, sensual massage, and then clit/prostate stim.  Following that, I moved on to a solo session.

The trip to full-on, penetrative orgasms didn’t take long, about 8 minutes, and the results were predictably amazing.  And yet, the emotion that came with the orgasms was unpredictably extended.  Not the hard crying that can happen sometimes, my body eased into this emotional response, but once started, it was hard to shut off.  Of course, I’m not in the habit of shutting off my sexual responses (anymore), so I let it play out, trying to feel what my body was experiencing with the after-orgasms, but feeling true emotion welling up and needing to be released.

I lay there for about a half hour, dreading the getting up and continuing on with my day.  I wanted to feel something new.  Strange how even these amazing orgasmic experiences are beginning to feel mechanical and routine.  Having stimulated my prostate during the KSMO session, she was primed for the Sparkles treatment.  But now, laying in the after-glow, I could feel her throbbing, growing.  She wanted more.  I wasn’t sure if my shoulder and wrist would last for another round, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try.

I lubed up Sparkles, and on the insertion, I could tell I was much tighter.  My prostate was definitely engorged, as were the vaginal walls that were pulsating inward, and I think the inner clit was still swollen as well.  The sensation of being truly filled was almost breathtaking.  Not to disparage Sparkles — I got him for his upward curve, not his girth.  (Dammit.)  But I loved the feeling of being full.  With a truly turned-on prostate, I felt those all-over ripples down my arms and legs, my legs began to shake — which usually only happens with hands-on prostate stimulation.  I reveled in the feeling of needing to urinate because I knew it had nothing to do with my bladder and everything to do with my She Spot/prostate.  I had been missing that feeling all summer.  To have that wave, that full-body shudder was joyously pleasing.

I didn’t think my arm would last at this point.  I thought I might have to stop, but I soldiered on, and I’m so glad I did.  When the orgasms started, they were full-body, fully arching, fully voiced, loud, rockin’-and-rollin’ orgasms.  I kept going as long as my arms would let me, then they flew up over my head, and Sparkles almost went flying across the room.

As the last few orgasms hit, I realized my teeth were chattering!  This was a completely new sexual response for me.  I don’t do fetishy stuff — never used an ice dildo or anything, so I’ve never experienced chattering teeth before… (great… in my head, I’m now hearing the song “John Wayne’s Teeth Hey-ya”…)

Being Irish, I love being cold.  In the winter, I keep my house around 60, and it feels awesome.  I wish I could afford to keep my house this cold in the summer!  In winter, my teeth will chatter occasionally, but for the most part, I feel like I’m in heaven in a cold house.  This is ironic since my skin always seems to be hot to the touch.  When I touch people, they move suddenly, saying my hands are burning hot.  I joke and say, “I’m Irish.  I’m exothermic.”  If they’re Pagan or Witchy, I say, “I’m a Fire Spirit, hence my nickname ‘Lava.’”  (If they’re fundy Christian, I tell them I’m a Witch.  Just to see their reaction as they run in the other direction. :P)  But I don’t feel hot — I really think it’s my body just letting off the heat so I can be cold.  Go Team Shamrock!

The teeth chattering while crying was a bit weird… and yet knowing I had had a second emotional orgasm was oddly satisfying — not sure why… But as the crying and teeth chattering faded, I began to feel the beginnings of a heartgasm — a buzzing in my ribcage area, the faint beginnings of that astral pull I have been wanting to experience again.  Unfortunately, a full heartgasm did not develop (rats!), but I was able to enjoy some lingering prostate body-shudders later when I went to the bathroom, and sporadically since.  Also, I recalled that when I had the 2-week-long heartgasm last Fall as well as the heartgasms in May, it was due to double-dipping — going two separate rounds of penetrative solo sex that concentrated on prostate stimulation.  That info is now filed for next time!

After awakening so grandly on 08-08-12 and 08-10-12, then having the back pain for a week, then the subsequent chakra cleansing, then my period, I’m already getting tired of the stops and starts on my journey.  I’m ready to hit cruise control for a bit.  But that’s just some Yang energy coming to the fore.  After being so Yin for several months, I was actually getting concerned I’d lost my inner fire.  I’m very appreciative of the Yang energy surfacing long enough to say “Hi” but not overwhelm my new Yinning state.

I briefly entertained the notion of recording my orgasms so I can hear them later — to get a sense of what’s happening vocally when my body is blissed out orgasmically.  And then I had the horrible thought of taking a month-long break from any orgasms at all.  Now I know I’m going crazy.

Speaking of going crazy, I think my shamanic dreams are coming back.  The past few nights, I’ve had some strange and intense dreams.  So I’ve decided to start a dream journal as well.  More on that later.  But for now, I’m about to hit the busy, busy last week of the month to meet all my writing deadlines (for my paying jobs), so I might take this week off from intentional orgasms.  Hmmmmmm….

Aroused and chattering,

trish

For more of my personal orgasm journey, read Trish’s DailyOJ.
Visit the AW site: Aroused Woman


OpEd: The Face of Orgasm: Is Your Woman Faking Orgasms or Not?


Copyright 2012 by Trish Causey. All Rights Reserved.
It’s been said that every woman fakes orgasms at some point.  Well, I’m here to tell you I never did.  Never.  I never had an orgasm during partnered sex, and I sure wasn’t going to fake it.  I made sure the guy knew I wasn’t seeing god, or cosmic rainbows, or magickal unicorns just because his penis was inside me.  He could deal with his ego later.

Recently, I read a particular, highly recommended book on cunnilingus but had a difficult time finishing it.  The anatomic information was mostly good, but the male  writer’s anecdotes about female  orgasm were peppered with sexist, rude, even misogynist remarks I simply could not overlook.  Having admitted that he was bad at sex and suffered with erectile issues, the author made the egregious comment that screamers and women who throw their heads back are “obvious” orgasm fakers.

I wanted to throw the book across the room, but unfortunately, I was at a restaurant.  (Yes, I read sex books while eating…  lunch.)

Women are complex creatures and are, thusly, capable of complex, varied types of orgasms.  It only makes sense that the body and the face would have different corresponding reactions.  Yes, I said body.  Were you only watching her face?

For a traditional clitoral orgasm, the orgasm is localized to the clit/genital area.  The woman’s torso will most likely crunch forward.  The hips/pelvis will tuck or raise up off the bed.  Her face will similarly be “crunched” into a look she wouldn’t really want to make otherwise: furrowed brow, gritting the teeth, even jutting the jaw forward.  (I could go into my theory on why this is but I would have to bore you with vocal science and the pedagogy of phonation.)

A vaginal/She Spot orgasm tends to be a full-body wave type of orgasm that washes over the body but lacks the explosion of the clitoral orgasm.  The woman’s mouth will be open, the jaw down and back, and she may moan differently because of it.  Her head may tilt backward, and she may even arch her back.  Please note the vagina has numerous spots capable of various kinds of pleasure and responses.

A blended orgasm that stems from both clitoral and vaginal/She Spot simulation is one of the most sought after orgasms because of its full-body wave effect coupled with the clit explosion.  This orgasm can induce both crunching forward and wild hip motions, plus arching backward, head back, and delicious moaning.

Other types of orgasms include nipple O’s, cervical O’s, orgasms of the P-spot, the K-spot, the perineal sponge, urethral/urination orgasms, anal O’s, and anywhere else on the body that she is super sensitive to touch.

Of all the physically-based orgasms, the most intense, for me, personally, is the uterine orgasm.  The uterine orgasm is brought on by stimulation of the cervix and A-Spot, coincidentally stimulating the prostate/She Spot at the same time.  This results in a compulsory doubling over and emotional outburst — a true gut-wrenching thrashing usually accompanied by uncontrollable crying.  Not pretty crying either.  So the face of this orgasm is kind of like a nervous breakdown — a bit unnerving for onlookers but soul-shatteringly amazing to experience.

These signs are for physically-based orgasms that most people can do without much effort.  Use plenty of lube, work the spots, communicate — not very difficult.  However, energy-based orgasms cause the body to twist and contort in ways unimaginable.

Kundalini orgasms are known for inducing a sharp, sudden, involuntary  arching of the back, in both women and men.  While some men consider arching the back to be a “woman’s” type of orgasm, I like to think of this phenomenon as a “human being’s” orgasmic response.  For Kundalini orgasms, the mouth may be wide open, deep moans being heard, while the head is bent so far back, you might think the woman is going into a gymnast’s backbend.  All of this is involuntary.  (And pretty frickin’ incredible!)

So what is the face of a woman who is having real orgasms?   Not something she’d want posted in the church’s Sunday bulletin, that’s for sure.  If the woman can, in any way, be considered to look “pretty,” she’s not having a real orgasm.

If she is crunching forward and her face looks as if she is somewhere between “really pissed off” and “warrior queen about to rip your limbs from your body,” then she’s probably having a real orgasm.  If her head is back, her mouth open, and her brow slightly to fully furrowed, that’s a great sign of a real orgasm as well.  When her arms fly up over her head, don’t be offended!  This doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to hold on to you.  Especially if her hands wind up behind her head, this is a great  sign of a deep, powerful orgasm.  (If you’ve read my DailyOJ, you know I can vouch for this effect.)

Her eyes may be open during clitoral orgasms, but for most other types of orgasms, her eyes will probably be closed.  For myself, I’ve noticed my eyes shoot open at the onset of blended orgasms but then immediately close again through the rest of the climax/multiple orgasms.  For Kundalini orgasms, my eyes are closed, head is all the way back, hands fly up over my head, and my body rocks-and-rolls side to side while my knees come up, then my legs kick out over and over again.  (Just sayin’.)

Other indicators of real orgasm are legs shaking and toes/feet curling inward, energy zings down the legs, rapid breathing, and even female ejaculation.

You decide:  Which one is faking and which one is real?

Along with the facial contortions or the gaping jaw and arching back, her skin will become flush due to increased blood flow, her nipples may be so perky they’re reaching for the ceiling, and her hips (hell, most of her body) will be moving involuntarily.  For energy orgasms, she will probably be rockin’-and-rollin’ side to side with extra contractions and rolling through her abdominals, not just crunching forward or arching backward as during physical orgasms.

If she can speak in complete sentences, or is constantly reassuring your ego, she might be faking for your benefit.  If her words are incoherent and grabbing at you is her only primal form of communication, then you might be on the right track — to helping her orgasm.

More importantly, don’t be so visual.  This isn’t porn.  This is a real, live woman.  You need to feel  her reactions.  When a woman is close to orgasm, especially if any clitoral stimulation has been done, the clitoral bulbs that form a “horseshoe” over and around the vaginal opening expand with blood flow, just as the penis expands with blood flow during arousal.  This feels like a vice-grip clamping down on your penis.

(Side note:  My asshole ex-husband used to tell me he didn’t like the vice-grip feeling because it made him start to lose his erection… so that’s probably why I never orgasmed with him.)

Remember, guys.  You cannot “make” a woman orgasm.  Orgasm begins and ends in the woman’s mind — not just her brain.  Stimulate her mind first and the body will follow suit.  In fact, the face and body will tell you everything if your sexual relationship is rooted in honest communication.

What does your face look like in orgasm?  Send me a picture, and I just might post it!

trish


DailyOJ 08-17-12, Part 1: Twitter War Triggers Blocked Chakra Energy


I’m writing this a few days after the fact for a couple of reasons:

1 – The events of this day were very powerful to me on an orgasmic and a human level.  I needed time to process them.

2 – The GOP had to go all stupid (again), and the entire weekend was dealing with the idiocy of rape culture.

So back at the drawing board here… my headspace has been so filled with the memory of my rape and reading readers comments, telling me about their rapes, that Friday seems blurry… like it  was 18 years ago and the rape was last week… or yesterday…

But the events of Friday were important so I will detail them, though perhaps not as elegantly as usual.

Friday morning began with getting my daughter on the school bus, after which I caught the local bus to the grocery store.  While shopping in the produce section, a small Twitter war began in which I was being ridiculed for being from Mississippi — as usual, and also as usual, made to be at fault for all of Mississippi’s past ill history.  Of course, I stood up for my state — my point being that Mississippi has a flawed past as do most states in this country.  (What?  New York was a slave state?!  Yes.  Quelle surprise! )  The New England states just like to think they’re perfect.  They’re not.

The perception of Mississippi will never change because the media and American culture like having someone at whom to point the accusatory finger, to blame for all the bad things in the U.S., which conveniently keeps them from looking in the mirror and fixing their own  problems.  The news never reports the good things that happen here — just the bad… unless that bad thing is Hurricane Katrina — that the media reported hit New Orleans — it didn’t.  The northeastern eyewall went over my house in Gulfport, MS, while we were inside, and I’ve got the coordinates to prove it!

As you can see, a lifetime of Post Traumatic Stress came up with that one stupid Twitter altercation, that ironically was with friends, but I was the butt of all the jokes and the lone voice for what is good and nice about Mississippi.  This hurt greatly that the ridicule came from friends because the incident triggered deeper hurts that I have held on to since childhood.

Being from Mississippi, I am not good enough.  For anything.

In dealing with the Broadway world for my day job and my radio show, I always dreaded being offered press seats that I would have to turn down because I don’t live in New York.  Invariably, they would ask me where I live (because how can a person cover Broadway and not  be in New York?!  (From working very, very, VERY  hard!).  I dreaded giving the answer, but always said with a smile on my face and a lilt in my voice: “On the beautiful Mississippi Gulf Coast.”

Silence.  Shock on the other end…  “Well, you don’t sound like you’re from  Mississippi!”…  “Oh, really?  And how do Mississippians sound?”  (Like TV and Hollywood stereotypes!)…  “Well, um…”…  Then I feel obligated to explain my mother was a literature professor and my father was a physics teacher turned physicist for the government, to somehow prove Mississippians aren’t stupid.  In fact, when I bought my new smartphone last year, I got a Manhattan number so at least when I ring the press agents, it just saves time not having to explain my area code… except that after three years, they know me now.

Having to defend myself just as an intelligent, well-read, educated, erudite ActivistArtist(TM) on a daily basis just gets old.  It’s exhausting.  And I realized it’s something I’ve been doing since I was a kid.  Trying to prove my worth as a human being regardless of one thing or another — the color of my skin, my freckles, my religious choices as a Pagan/Witch, being bisexual, having a child out of wedlock in a Red State, dealing with being molested as a kid, thinking I was doomed to Hell thanks to Catholic brainwashing, dealing with being raped as an adult and not reporting it for fear of public ridicule, losing my identity as a person and an artist thanks to my asshole marriage, regrouping with my musical work that was stalled because of the destruction of Hurricane Katrina, dealing with the bad economy, the BP Oil Spill, then becoming a single mom in an affluent artists’ hamlet.  I’m just tired.

So Friday, after a week of horrendous back pain which began after I started back with KSMO, I got home, sat down at my desk, and had a really good, gut-wrenching cry.  Not a pretty, dabbing-the-eyes cry.  No, this was full-out, cathartic wailing.

The crying brought me to my source of the pain — the fear that I am not good enough to be loved by anyone.  That if someone did love me, I have no idea why he would.  The irony is that I know I’m kinda fabulous in many ways.  I’ve got the bustline and the music fellowship grants to prove it.  But deep down… deeeeeeeeeeep down, I still have issues…. being told I was ugly as a kid, being told I was fat, that I should kill myself, that I’m going to Hell — for numerous reasons, then actually being fat as an adult, losing my sense of self and place in this world, hearing my asshole ex-husband’s ridicule of my singing voice and my original music plus his hurtful words regarding my body if I got breast reduction surgery, complaining that I got too wet during sex, that I shouldn’t do anything during sex because he would get insecure.

At times, it just feels like I’ve spent 39 years of doing nothing right.

Within an hour of this little emotional breakdown, I noticed my back was loosening up.  The pain, I then realized, was in a place in my back that I don’t normally get back pain.  Usually, the knots are along my bra straps horizontally across my ribs and vertically in both shoulder blade areas.  This pain was in the center, at the spine, directly behind my heart.  I jokingly thought that maybe the crying had knocked something loose.  Then I thought about that again.  The excruciating pain I had had for a week was literally almost gone.  The pain that was left was not the pain of clenched muscles contracting nerves (anymore), it was more like sore muscles, exhausted from clenching and spasming for the past week.  I could move through those vertebrae again — and I had not been able to do that all week!  The immobility through my back had prevented most kinds of orgasm — the stealth, Kundalini O’s make my back arch so there was no way to do that as I was accustomed… the few times I had stealth O’d, I literally tucked my pelvis so my back wouldn’t try to arch — not nearly as much fun.  The nipple orgasms were completely nonexistent because the nipple’s nerves stem straight off the spinal cord in that exact area of my pain — the area of my physical heart and my esoteric/Tantric heart chakra.

Looking at the time, I figured I’d better get on with my session for the day.  With the weekend coming up and the prospect of my period starting Monday-ish, I knew vaginal O’s would be another week away if I didn’t get this sh’O on the road…  Now that my back could arch, I wanted orgasms!!!!

* Read Part 2 here! *

Aroused and unblocking,

trish

For more of my personal orgasm journey, read Trish’s DailyOJ.
Visit the AW site: Aroused Woman


DailyOJ 08-11-12 & 08-12-12: The Times in Between, Full-Body Wave-gasms, & Urination Orgasms


“Nude Sitting Up,” by Chagall, 1908

Waking up Saturday morning, I was in severe pain.  Pain I had not felt in a while.  Sunday morning brought the same, if not worse, pain in my back and neck.  How bad was it, you ask?  Let’s just say that Saturday and Sunday mornings were the first time in over a year  I didn’t start my day by touching my breasts or  my genitals.  Yeah.  That  bad.

So not being alone at home, I did not do KSMO or Sparkles.  With the pain I was feeling, I didn’t think my back could take the sudden back arches of O’s brought on by OM touch or nipple stimulation.  But the weekend was not entirely uneventful.  I had known I would not be doing KSMO over the weekend, so I had allowed for these two days to be “see what happens” days, the days in between KSMO sessions when the new energy patterns that were triggered in the session start to make their appearance — hence the reason Jack recommends not  KSMO-ing on consecutive days.

Throughout the day, both Saturday and Sunday, I felt familiar zings of energy up my legs every now and then while working at my desk.  Because it was localized to my legs, I wouldn’t call it a full deskgasm.  And yet, because I know what these energies are, what they feel like, and I have an idea what they will lead to, I am very excited by their activity even though they seem small.  When first experiencing these energies, it can be difficult to notice them for what they are or to appreciate them for what they actually mean.  This is an encore sojourn through KSMO for me, so I recognize the signals.  I’m not worried or wondering if I’m doing it right or feeling disappointed that they weren’t bigger, bolder, or more obvious.

In the shower Saturday night, doing my nightly finger check, my prostate gave another slight “hello.”  After a few pulses, I checked the fluid, and again, it smelled sweet but was very thick.  I had already made the mental note to drink more water that day, so I was hoping I’d see some improvement by Sunday.  However, I had inadvertently eaten an Asian dish with MSG (monosodium glutamate) and was having swelling in my legs and ankles.  I drank extra water to help flush it out of my system.  Also, I should note, I am making sure to take my fish oil every day as well as chocolate.

Sunday had similar energy swooshes up the leg and a scalpgasm — maybe two.  I even had a full-body wave-gasm — the energy starts in my feet, zooms up my left leg, around my torso, up my back, and curves around my head into a scalpgasm and ends at tickling my face, followed by a full-body shudder, a zing in the genitals, and goosebumps on my arms.  Oh, and this was at my desk, so this  qualifies as a deskgasm (to me).

But what really got my heart racing in a great big “We’re on our way!” thrill was the urination orgasm I had Sunday afternoon.  The prostate wraps around the urethra in the female as it does in the male.  Rubbing the female prostate during sex, a woman can suddenly have that feeling of needing to go to the bathroom.  But if she knows her bladder is empty, she shouldn’t tense up  but rather push out  and get to know and enjoy(!)  those full-body ripples of pleasure that can occur from prostate play.  This same effect can be achieved while urinating — if the prostate is aroused or full of fluid, the rush of urine through the urethra — which stimulates the prostate —  can trigger delicious O’s… or… U’s. :D

Sunday night, in the shower, I let the hot water hit my back for a while to help relax whatever muscles in my back or neck were still so tense.  It was 1:30 a.m.  I should have been in bed hours before since it was a school night, but I just didn’t want to sleep.  My body was tired, but my brain was wide awake.  Standing there, I massaged my hips through my glutes since I’d been having some recurring sciatica pain in recent weeks.  I couldn’t help but brush a finger along the upper part of my butt cleavage, which months before, I had accidentally discovered to be a very sensitive erogenous zone.  Moving my middle finger lower, I hit the K-spot, which is at the tip of the coccyx bone just above the anus.  I got zapped with an energy wave straight up my spine to my scalp.  So, yeah…  I kept doing that for a couple minutes.

On the whole, this is all very encouraging.  Starting back with KSMO on Wednesday, I was very happy with the progress I was already experiencing as of Sunday night.  With the re-awakening of my prostate and my K-spot, the energy flowing again, the deskgasm and full-body-gasm, I am very optimistic in terms of my orgasmic development.  I had a teary moment (furball) that came up Sunday afternoon — another impromptu pity party of my general inadequacy in life, career, and love.  So I’m soul-searching into that.  Again, I think I know what it is.  I’ll write more on that  when I have more information to share.  I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels similarly.

Aroused and zinging,

trish

For more of my personal orgasm journey, read Trish’s Daily O.J.
Visit the AW site: Aroused Woman


DailyOJ 08-08-12, Part 2: Back on the Path


* Read Part 1 here. *

I originally bought the KSMO seminar back in 2006. Life was too stressful, and I never actually did the practice. Fast forward to August 2011, my life was calmer, happier in many aspects, and I was ready to see what all this multiple orgasm thing was all about.  Coming out of a miserable marriage, I was anticipating having sex again… hopefully… at some point… in the future… before I die…. Having never orgasmed during sex, I wanted to teach my body to be multi -orgasmic so I could maybe have one orgasm during sex… at least… hopefully… before I die….

In my KSMO 20-minute sessions, I would caress my breasts for 10 minutes, then my clit for about 5 minutes, then do 5 minutes simultaneous stim of my clit and my prostate. Touching the genitals is not required for KSMO, and in fact, Jack, KSMO’s discoverer, actually recommends not  touching the genitals — to caress other  parts of the body.  But I don’t like doing what I’m told.  Quelle surprise,  I know.

I also never liked the actual timing of the 20 minutes.  Even getting started, I would procrastinate, just enjoying laying in bed and associating the timer with yet another alarm — my life is mostly alarms going off for one thing or another at all times of the day and night, every day of the week.  Scheduling in KSMO had begun to feel like another scheduled chore rather than an opportunity for training my bliss genes.  And yet, if I had not scheduled KSMO, then I would not have done it — by experience, I knew I had to schedule the sessions or they wouldn’t get done.

During the actual 20-minute session, I would inevitably look at my phone’s stopwatch with disdain, thinking, “Jeez, is it 20 minutes yet?  Can I just get on to the jerking off part?”  (Another thing Jack doesn’t recommend — KSMO and sex on the same day.  I rarely obeyed that rule either.)

Resuming KSMO after more than two months off made me a little nervous.  I wasn’t sure what to expect.  I had taken a two-month break in the Spring and was almost sorry I did because of my prostate’s subsequent dwindling super-powers.  But I want to get back into it — to start on the next climb to the next peak of whatever the next threshold might be.  (No, seriously, I’m in non-attachment, I swear!)

I laid in bed for about an hour, enjoying the calm, the CD playing softly in the background, just having some peace to myself.  I knew I was going to do KSMO, but I felt no rush, no schedule to do it.  I couldn’t help having some stealth O’s — after all, they’re now synonymous with my sexual identity.  I can’t prevent the spontaneous O’s anyway.  (Like I would try?! )  But I did not overtly go  for orgasms.  I caressed my body and just happened to enjoy some spontaneous O’s as well.  With several rounds of those out of the way, I figured I was ready for KSMO.  I felt no rush, and surprisingly, no “need” to do KSMO.  I started the KSMO session when I wanted  to start it.  This is a huge leap in my mindset from where I had been just a few months ago!  So I figured I’d do what I had done last Fall since that had worked so well.  And so I began…

First Mistake ~ I brought by hands up to my breasts and as soon as my fingertips touched my pert nipples, I suddenly had 3 concurrent back-arching, knee-raising nipple orgasms.  Damn….  This was how I always started out my sessions, to warm up my clit indirectly and get the energy flowing.  This wasn’t going to work.  On to Plan B.

Second Mistake ~ Plan B.  I reached down between my legs where I brushed my fingertips lightly along the fringe of my inner labia, and a rush of heat washed up my body.  I touched my fingertip to my clit in Om-touch style, and  BAM!  More full-body orgasms, with breathless gasps, torso twisting and thrashing, and hips off the bed.  This really sucked.

How am I supposed to do my KSMO sessions now without being able to touch my favorite spots?

I decided to try what Jack actually recommends, which really annoyed me because I don’t like doing what I’m told to do.  I started a gentle touch to the inside of my left thigh and felt tingles throughout the left side of my body.  I remembered this from before.

Without being able to touch my breasts, my torso felt neglected.  My body actually yearned for touch there.  I used my hands to caress up and down the center of my torso, from my sternum — where I could feel the vibrations of the Key Sound in my chest — down to my mons pubis.  I had never tried this before, and it felt weird to feel the softness of my breasts contrasted with the hardness of my nipples against the insides of my arms.  My arms really liked it.

During the 20 minutes, my mind wandered occasionally, and that was okay.  I was never really far from being fully mindful of my body.  I mean, if I had know the insides of my arms would get turned on by feeling my nipples, I’d have done that 25 years ago!  So I acknowledged the new information, filed it in my head, and moved on.

What I really noticed — and really made me happy — was the lack of negative emotion associated with my mind wandering or my body responding differently that she used to or differently than I expected.  There was no expectation or reward to look forward to.  The experience simply was what it was, and that was all it needed to be.  This is a huge leap for me!  To be more Yin, just accepting of the experiences as they happen, not processing them immediately, just experiencing them — experiencing them without the mind fuzz of guilt, regret, disappointment, or schedule-envy.  Whatever happened was okay.  I listened to my body and let her  lead.  I paid attention to my body so she  could teach me what she  wanted, what she  needed, explore what she  was now able to do, feel where she  wants to go next.

At the end of the 20-minutes, I was relaxed and fully sated in the experience of self-exploration, mindfulness, and non-attachment.  I did not feel the emotion of being “glad” it was over.  Quite simply, the session was complete, and I was moving on to the next phase.  So, then the rest is pretty mundane….

Fucked Sparkles, had boisterously loud orgasms, cried, blah, blah, blah…

Aroused and back on the path,

trish

For more of my personal orgasm journey, read Trish’s Daily O.J.
Visit the AW site: Aroused Woman


DailyOJ 07-09-12: Allowing and Receiving


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 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,

trish

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DailyOJ 07-03-12: Integration, Starting Over, & Leg-gasms


I am not a patient person. I don’t like waiting. I don’t like surprises. I don’t like subtlety in most instances.

My Musical Theatre training is probably to blame.

Over the past few weeks, since my last DailyOJ post, I’ve noticed that my orgasms from nipple stimulation or the OM touch are not nearly as… sudden… as they were back in May.

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,

trish

For more of my personal orgasm journey, read Trish’s Daily O.J.
Visit the AW site: Aroused Woman


DailyOJ 06-13-12: Great Expectations


I got a surprise few days off from motherhood duties this week, and it afforded me some much-needed quality time with my lady’s loins. It’s not that I can’t spend time with them — I do, but not like I really want to with my loud exclamations of pleasure. My orgasms have been in stealth mode, and I’ve been trying to incorporate the stunning energy from a couple of weeks ago — when I was having the spontaneous O’s — with my everyday-pretend-to-be-a-normal-person-and-not-a-sexually-charged-wild-woman charade.

Having to adopt the “responsible mom” persona that is expected of me really puts a damper on that energy, though I discovered that underneath my walls I must put up for polite society, the energy is still very much there, bubbling and brewing well beneath the surface, but still reachable whenever I want it.

With the apartment empty and my downstairs neighbor on vacation, I decided it was time to bring out the purple vibe (sans batteries) and just go for a good ol’ loud session. I noticed that the sensations during arousal were not localized to the genitals but felt more “full” or “filling” throughout the lower abdominal/pelvic area. My abs have started going crazy during arousal and climaxing, but my legs are not shaking. And during the nipple stim/clit orgasms, I invariably turn toward my left side, so I’m assuming this is all more integration of techniques and energy.

The orgasms with the toy were different though. As I wrote earlier, the spontaneous orgasms were “blunt,” and the arousal and orgasms with the toy were, for lack of a better word, blunt. They were “through” me — no clitoral explosion, just riding the wave up, up, up, as it crested, then floating there in the orgasms, and riding it back down. Still delicious, just different.

The orgasms were emotional — I love this kind. This is why I use the toy, to reach the A-spot to trigger the uterine orgasm that is so very deep and personal  and emotional. These orgasms now feel… thorough… like I’ve experienced every feeling imaginable from wanting and horniness, to arousal and raising of energy, through the orgasms, into the emotional recesses of my mind and heart and the deep, inner, primal response of my body, to the throbbing denouement of smaller orgasms, and finally into the blissful purring of satiation.

I feel a little disappointed when I don’t experience this full cycle — the emotion has become very important to my sense of sexual self. Maybe it’s just that time of life because I have been emotional during the day and occasionally at night as I work through things while I face this fork in the road.

Using the toy, my average time from start to finish is about 8 minutes, though I’ve clocked in at 6 minutes a few times, and will go 9 to 11 minutes if I’m being leisurely about it. I’m always surprised by the length of time it actually takes because while it’s happening it seems much longer. In fact, sometimes, I get into some mind noise thinking, “If I were with a guy right now, he’d be getting annoyed this was taking so long.” So then I feel pressure on myself to hurry up and make it happen.

Even though I’m not with a partner right now, I sometimes approach all of this like an athlete in training for the orgasm Olympics. I want to be ready when this dude enters my life. And taking 11 “whole” minutes to climax just might disqualify me from making the final round…

Of course, I’m only half kidding, here. Any man who wouldn’t give me 11 minutes start to finish is not worth my time and energy. And since I will require breast worship and sensual massage and other goodies first, if he’s impatient, he’ll get his ass bounced out the door. And yet, I do get the occasional mind fuzz. “If I take too long, he’ll get bored.” He might get bored anyway since all the good stuff is happening inside where he can’t see… until right before and through the orgasms when it’s rocking and rolling time.

Expectation is the opposite of non-attachment and rooted in competition, adrenaline, yang, testosterone aspects that I’m trying to move out of. I guess this is just another sign that I am a work in progress, as is my sexual awakening.

Aroused and trying to be more yin,

trish

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DailyOJ 05-20-12: Stealth Clit & Nipple Orgasms


In getting ready for bed, I knew that I was too tired to do much but was still feeling a bit of a buzz from my heartgasm and O’s on Friday.  I did some barely-there stealth fingering with my fingertip — maybe 4 or 5, and I orgasmed a full-body, kundalini orgasm.  I kept caressing my clit very lightly and kept orgasming.

I was shocked (!!!) when the orgasm hit so soon.  It was kind of like… “Okay, now what?”…. Well, I didn’t have to wait.

Now that I was in that energy, the O’s kept coming with little stim needed on my nipples alone.  I had not done much with my breasts since experiencing painful nipple sensitivity for a couple weeks.  Thankfully, that had passed.

I did a few more orgasms via the barely-there, stealth clit stim and felt amazing.  These O’s aren’t explosive heat like the usual clit O’s, and I don’t experience any noticeable explosions in my head like true kundalini orgasms.  But what I feel throughout my body is a sudden wave of whoosh!, a full-on release of energy in all directions simultaneously, but I also notice the energy racing up my arching spine, and even into my throat area.  It’s as if the energy expands through me — a Big Bang rush, rather than “runs” out, the way other orgasms can taper off.

It is nothing short of incredible, and it’s happening more frequently…. All in all, loverly.

Aroused and O-ing,

trish

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Me, My Breasts, and I


Copyright 2012 by Trish Causey.

I always hated my breasts.

For most of my life that was all I was good for. Having breasts. And thick hair. Breasts and hair.  That was me in a nutshell.  Nevermind that I was intelligent, talented in the performing and literary arts, a Girl Scout, an honor student, an activist, a nice person.  None of that mattered.  I had thick, red hair and large, lust-inducing breasts.

I woke up one morning at the age of 10, and POOF! There they were.  Size C practically overnight.  I went from being the wallflower nerd in 5th grade to getting weird looks from the boys who glanced at me from lowered eyelids but no longer talked to me.

At age 11, my ballet teacher measured me for my recital costume and announced (in front of my class much to my horror) that my measurements were 37-26-37.  She then had the nerve to tell me if I gained an inch in my waist, I’d have perfect measurements.  I’d just started my period and was about to get braces.  Having perfect measurements was nowhere on my radar.  And neither were boyfriends.

I was 13, working backstage at an international ballet competition, when a German photographer wanted to take “pictures” of me.  At age 15, I had my first experience with being mauled by a guy — a fellow cast member of a show, who was my ride home after a rehearsal.  With no other way to get home, I felt like I had to let him do what he wanted so he wouldn’t leave me there at the deserted library at 10 o’clock at night.  (This was well before cell phones were commonplace).  Luckily my leotard didn’t have snaps at the crotch.

While working on a local show, I was standing backstage when one of the actors, whose face was covered in heavy character make-up, paused as he was pacing before going on.  He stopped in front of me, looked at my breasts, and said, “If I didn’t have all this make-up on, I’d put my face in there and- He shook his head vigorously back and forth.  I had no idea what to say to that.  He was married with kids.  I was 16.

I graduated high school a D-cup and quickly moved into a DD.

While volunteering with a ballet company at age 18, the ballet master of a troupe visiting from Russia, cornered me in the Green Room after everyone had left.  Before I knew what was happening, he’d maneuvered both of my arms behind me and held my wrists in one of his hands while the other went to my blouse, untucking it from my skirt.  He grabbed my breasts and squeezed roughly.  His knee was between my legs which were trapped in a pencil skirt.  The more I fought, the stronger he became.  My only recourse when he kissed me was to bite his tongue as hard as I could.  He backed off immediately, blood pouring from his mouth.  I tucked in my shirt and told him he was never to do that again.  Even in this situation, my Southern upbringing would not allow me to be rude.

At 20, I traveled with a theatre company to South Korea for an international theatre competition.  I was friendly with the troupe from Tblisi, in the Republic of Georgia.  Just friends.  Nothing happened.  It was brought to my attention on the plane ride home that almost everyone in the competition — people from 16 countries — thought I’d fucked the entire acting company from Tblisi… and some of the Germans and a French guy.

Swell.

At 21, working the ballet competition again, I was more fully aware of my seeming powers over men, and I was ready to be slightly more proactive.  An Adonis of a male dancer from Cuba lusted after me, but his partner didn’t make it to Round 2, so I couldn’t take that opportunity to the next step.  A ballet master from Spain wanted me.  One night while making out with him, he, of course, went for my breasts first.  The intensity of the situation was too much, and while he wiped off his fogged up glasses, I made an excuse about needing to do something and left.

I didn’t understand what the big fuss was about.  When I was 9, my molestor used to admire the beginnings of my breasts, and she was greatly thrilled when they came in at age 10.  This coupled with all the other events made me leery of sex.  I was still a virgin at 21 until I was raped.  The guy repeatedly ran his fingernails up and down my breasts, commenting that he’d dreamt of the day he’d get his hands on them.  I knew him and we were in my bedroom, and at the time, the concept of date-rape was still new and not considered “real” rape.  I bled for four days, but I still felt his nails on my skin.

I was so embarrassed that I was still a virgin at 21, I did not report the rape for fear the policemen would laugh at me.  Or worse. It was too much to fathom sitting in a courtroom having to explain why I had never had sex, when everyone around me thought I was a slut.

For years, everyone thought I was a “loose girl” because I had large breasts.  Everyone just assumed I was a “certain way” because my Irish anatomy was genetically predisposed to being full-figured.  Finally, I’d been penetrated.  At least now, I wouldn’t have to pretend a reaction when people smirked in my direction.  The look of shame was real.

My breasts were never pin-up fabulous — not high or perky or uber firm — but they were large.  At theatre orgies, when I was 22 to 24, my breasts were all the rage.  And I was proud of them — but only because I knew they gave me power over men.  One guy wanted time with them, so I laid back on the bed, purring, until he said — out loud where everyone heard, “They went to the sides.”  I responded, “Yes, that’s what they do.”  He replied, “Nevermind. They’re just sacks of skin.”  I was humiliated.  He was used to breasts that didn’t move, defied gravity, and were perfect(ly fake).  As large as mine were, my breasts didn’t measure up.

Aged 25 and working as a leasing consultant at an apartment property, I’d forgotten the cardinal rule of being big-busted — never wear form-fitting sweaters.  Sure enough, as I sat there, one of the paint contractors walks in — I’d never seen him before.  He took one look at me, and exclaimed, “Damn, but don’t you put Dolly Parton to shame!”

Lovely.  From a complete stranger, no less.

I hated my breasts, and I wanted them gone.  I thoroughly researched breast reduction.  I watched every nerd channel show on plastic surgery, scrutinizing the process and the results.  I even worked for a plastic surgeon and felt I could practically do a breast redux consult and procedure myself by that point.

Frequently, I would have to ask my husband to massage my back to help release the knots.  These massages were never spa- or romance-novel-worthy.  They were painful — horribly-hot, sharp, stabbing, searing pain, painful.

From the nape of my neck to my bottom ribs, from one shoulder across to the other, my back was one, huge knotted mass of contracted muscle and pinched nerves, for years.  Constant back pain affected how I walked and how I slept — when I could sleep.  Permanent red grooves still scar my shoulders from their weight.

External and environmental projections of cultural myths and stereotypes compelled self-loathing within me I never would have imagined possible.  Having large breasts made my body acceptable for repeated sexual abuse, and society assumed I “wanted” it or “deserved” it just because of the way my body developed.

In 2004, I thought my marriage might work out after all. Things had looked up for a while, and I had surprised myself thinking that I might actually grow to love him again.  I was in the kitchen, and remarked, quite off the cuff, that I’d decided to go ahead and have the breast reduction surgery.  He shook his head, getting angry, and actually pouted.

After inquiring what was wrong, he said, “If you go through with it, I’ll never be able to make love to you again.  I would take one look at those hideous purple scars and be too disgusted to be aroused.”  That cut me to my soul.  And it solidified for me that he’d never truly loved me.  No man ever had or would.  I was nothing but breasts and hair to men.

I’ve had a child, whom I breastfed.  I purposely gained weight so my husband wouldn’t want me, which wrecked my thyroid.  Hurricane Katrina in 2005 and the subsequent PTSD didn’t help.  In 2010, I escaped my hellhole marriage and began a path of reclaiming my dreams and my identity.

Last fall, a friend suggested I try sensual massage as part of my orgasm awakening regimen.  I thought it was hokey, but I tried it anyway.  At the same time, I read Tantric Orgasm for Women, that included a breast meditation, which I also thought was hokey.  But I tried it anyway.

The sensual self-massage put me in touch with my body in a gentle, caressing way that I’d not thought possible.  I realized then that I had never been touched gently.  Ever.  By anyone.  Tingles rippled up and down my body.  Energy zinged up my spine, across my scalp, and tickled my face.

The breast meditation involved gently holding my breasts from the outside while mentally entering my breasts from the inside.  From my center.  From my heart.  This was the first time I experienced my breasts in relationship to my body and how they come from me.  Since I was 9, the attention my breasts received has been from the external world passing judgment, men (and females) groping, clawing, and lusting after them, while society applied the scarlet letter of shame.

My breasts had been the victim, not my enemy.  For the first time, I experienced my breasts as a part of me, and I cried uncontrollably.  Holding my breasts, I wanted to apologize for ever hating them and sending the negativity to them.

I’m now a single mom, 43 pounds lighter, and infinitely happier.  I’m a few months away from turning 40.

While laying in bed one night, I noticed a woman on my laptop’s screen.  I thought, “Wow, those breasts look good.”  I then realized the screen was dark due to the screen saver, and the breasts I saw were mine.  I looked good laying down — with my breasts to the sides as real breasts are wont to do.

It was at that moment that I knew without a doubt that I will never have breast reduction.  After years of wanting them gone, I cannot imagine having them cut now.  Knowing that the surgeon will cut every nerve around the nipple-areola complex which is wired directly to the clitoris and remove a huge triangle of nerve-rich skin from the underside of the breast, simply hurts my heart — not to mention what it might do to my orgasms.  After making peace with my breasts and experiencing such wonderful sensations and orgasms directly because of them, I can’t fathom not having them exactly as they are.

My breasts will never grace a magazine’s centerfold, and they’d never withstand the scrutiny of men accustomed to ogling implants and the perfect breasts of 20-somethings in skin mags or porn.  I’ll never look good bra-less, and swimsuits will always be my arch-nemesis.  I can live with that.  And however society chooses to judge my old, not-perfect breasts is society’s waste of time and energy.  I have other things to do than worry about what other people think — which I can’t control anyway.

My breasts will never be perfect.  But they will always be mine.  And I love my breasts.

trish

For more of my personal orgasm journey, read Trish’s Daily O.J.
Visit the AW site: Aroused Woman


DailyOJ 05-15-12: Nipple Sensitivity & Energy in My Legs


In the past few weeks, I’ve been trying to get back into the KSMO thing. After the debacle (with a couple of morons) on the forum, I didn’t do anything KSMO for 2 months.  In the interim, I finally tried Om-ing and was shocked by the fabulous results I had with it as well as went a couple rounds with my new glass prostate wand and have loved playing with that ever since.

Oddly enough, I began to experience painful sensitivity in my nipples. Not the whole breasts, just the nipples.  This was horribly sad because I have begun to rely on nipple stim as the appetizer that leads to the entree of arousal and delectable orgasmic desert(s) later on.  Also, since beginning a regular-ish practice of sensual massage, I’ve found my hands on my breasts almost constantly whenever I’m naked.  (That may seem weird, but since I spent most of my life hating my breasts, I’m actually just getting to know them.)

Nipple stimulation leads to a cervical, Kundalini orgasm in 10 to 30 seconds.  If I continue the nipple and breast stimulation (as I’m wont to do), I can even get aroused enough to experience what author Diana Richardson calls the “YES!” of vaginal arousal, where the vaginal opening (the clitoral cuff of the PC muscles) opens and a finger or toy slides right in — no wiggling past the fleshy opening necessary to enter.  The first time I felt my vagina open like that, it was as if my vulva was sighing a sweet, “Ahhhhh….”  It felt amazing.  Since then, I can sense when my vagina is open like that, waiting to be entered by… something.  In fact, I’ve found myself awakening in the middle of the night from a sexual-infused dream and without touching my shaved vulva, I can tell I’m fully opened and in “YES!” mode.

With little notice, my nipples became painfully sensitive a few weeks ago.  Even the air flow from the ceiling fan was painful.  This made me pay attention to the rest of the breast (which, admittedly, is overlooked by men as well).  I can only surmise that the pain was related to my hormonal cycles — it began a week after my period, through ovulation (think I caught the egg this month!), and a week after.  This past week has been miraculously back to normal in sensation.  However, the cervical O’s only came back in the last day or two, and they’re not as strong — but I did notice that the intensity is building back.  Will have to work on those. :)

As for the energy in my legs, I don’t have much to report other than I’ve noticed weird pulsating, energy zaps down the backs of my legs recently.  It feels like contractions (but not like a leg cramp).  It’s as if it’s building energy, starting in my lower glutes/upper hamstrings and down to my calves.  Strong sensations but not unpleasant.

I had full-body O’s during this last session with lots of energy in my legs — which is great because my legs are strong and tend to be very active during the last phase of arousal (shaking profusely) and during orgasms themselves (kicking out, pulling up, kicking out again, etc.).  I can even feel my prostate coming back to life, which had also gone dormant in recent months.

As for regular orgasms, I’ve had my orgasms in the past few weeks, but they hadn’t been as satisfying as I’ve become accustomed since last Fall.  I don’t know if this is related to the nipple pain or not. The breasts are indeed the gateway to orgasm (for me, anyway), so that may have been the cause for (what I consider) the lackluster orgasms — they were localized to the genitals, and even when they extended upward, they weren’t full-body… more … one-hit of orgasm, but not even an explosion.  (Yes, this was with blended O stim.)

On the brighter side, I woke up from some sensual dream at 3:45 a.m. today, and unable to sleep, I laid in bed as I do with my legs spread open and massaged my breasts and labia.  It was fabulous.  I can’t count the number of cervical O’s I had with the breast stimulation, and even had a couple of energy zings from minor OM clit stimulation.

Will have to see where all this leads next… Being on my period, I won’t be able to play inside until Saturday or Sunday… well, I could, but man, I hate the “Clean up, aisle 12″ scenario.  Guess it’s just me and my breasts till then!

trish

For more of my personal orgasm journey, read Trish’s Daily O.J.
Visit the AW site: Aroused Woman


DailyOJ 12-27-11: Problems with Key Sound


December 27, 2011

Just throwing this out there… In the free-flow chat last night (or the other night — can’t remember now), another chick and I both said that we sometimes have to do the KSMO key sound twice to get it into that really low (awkward) placement. I wondered if anyone (guys or gals) had experienced that.

I was doing my KSMO this morning, which I time with the stopwatch on my phone.  By the time I finally got the key sound perfect the first time around, my alarm went off!  Grrrrrrrr…

I also noted that I tend to do nipple-only stim the first 10 minutes, then move a hand south to my genitals and caress the exterior of the vulva for about 5 minutes, then the last 5 minutes is internal caress stimulation (single caressing!) on my She Spot.  By this time, though, I AM extremely hot and bothered, so maybe natural arousal is kicking in and contributing to the husky sound?  Otherwise, unnatural, husky vocal production is dangerous to the voice (and speech pathologists everywhere will back me up on this).  I want to be safe with my voice while furthering my experiences on the KSMO path to blissed out orgasms.  But doing the key sound is starting to hurt, actually.

I’m wondering, too, if I should do a full-body warm up before doing the KSMO protocol — the same way a singer should do a full-body warm up before vocalizing.  It really does get the blood flowing to the vocal folds as well as wake up the belly-breathing respiratory subsystem.  I might do that next time and report if it helps make the key sound better from the start or at least more fluid.

In that chat, we also talked about the importance of making sure the mouth is open wide enough — not too wide, but your mouth SHOULD be open. The placement of the jaw really does matter in sound production whether you’re singing or having orgasms — i.e., the KIND of sound you produce, resonance, as well as volume.  All of this affects the voice.

And one gent had a great quote about why making sound during arousal and orgasms is NATURAL.  Good thing I’m loving’ my moan.

Aroused and vocalizing,
trish

For more of my personal orgasm journey, read Trish’s Daily O.J.
Visit the AW site: Aroused Woman


DailyOJ 12-10-11: Part 2, Female Orgasm Statistics


December 10, 2011

The myths about female orgasm, particularly female multiple orgasms, have been perpetuated in modern culture with the rise of easily accessible porn. Separating the real O’s from the fake is not an easy task. What we need is more honest conversation about orgasm, how we reach it, why we want, and what we want out of it.

I saw the following on the “I Love Female Orgasm” website and just had to share.  (Wonder if they’ll let me have a speaking gig?  Hmmm…)

Some stats:

  • Average length of time it takes a woman to have an
    orgasm: 20 minutes.
    Average length of time it takes a man: 2-5 minutes.
  • Half of girls have had an orgasm by the time they’re 16 years old.
  • 44% of men say their female partners always have orgasms when they have sex.  Whereas, 22% of women say they always have orgasms when they have sex.  (Note: Can we say “contradiction”?!)
  • About 1% of women are able to achieve orgasm solely through breast
    stimulation.
  • 63% of college women say they’ve had multiple orgasms.

I do think younger women have more information about female anatomy and sex positions than their mothers did, so I’m not surprised to see so many college women have had multiple orgasms.  And considering most of them grew up post-Clinton sex scandal, they grew up hearing the words “oral sex” on the evening news.  But the statistic doesn’t say during partnered sex.  Even as late as 2002, studies report 75% of women have never orgasmed during partnered sex — I am one of those.

I also find it interesting to note the disparity between what men report of their partners’ orgasms and what the women report.  Either the women are faking orgasms, then lying about having one, or the men are too clueless to tell a real orgasm from a When-Harry-Met-Sally spectacle.  If only 44% of men say their partner has orgasmed during sex, then 56% of men either don’t know how to bring their female partner to orgasm or they’ve watched too much porn and don’t know a real orgasm when they see it.  But don’t worry, guys.  That’s why I’m here.

For the 1% of women who orgasm through breast stimulation alone, YAY! I’m finally in the 1% — in the rest of my life, I’m still in the 99% (yes, that’s an Occupy Wall Street reference).

I just thought this info was apropos to the discussions we’ve been having of late.

Aroused and counting,
trish

For more of my personal orgasm journey, read Trish’s Daily O.J.
Visit the AW site: Aroused Woman


DailyOJ 12-08-11: Breasts & Yoni Massage


December 8, 2011

(*In response to a gentleman’s comment about nipple stimulation.*)

I’d LOVE to hear what nipple stimulation “techniques” are most preferable to men — gentle squeezing of the nipple, stroking of the nipple-areola complex? Something stronger? Pectoral massage? Hmmm?

Unfortunately, I think most young guys get their notion of how to treat breasts from watching porn.  Personally, the way men (and women) treat breasts in porn is down right horrible, in my opinion.  Clearly porn is for the male voyeur who doesn’t realize that such man-handling HURTS!  If you watch the women on IFeelMyself.com, you can see how real women treat their breasts.  It’s very loving –  even when we’re highly aroused, we are NOT rough, groping, pawing, lifting / dropping the breast(s). OUCH!

It’s weird to talk about breasts because usually (for me) it is in a negative way due to many negative experiences with men (who like to grope things that aren’t theirs).  But I am now in a much better place emotionally and mentally with my breasts because of doing sensual massage (and yoni massage down lower has been amazingly rewarding), and generally realizing my breasts aren’t the enemy (and neither are men ).

When you hate one part of your body, it’s difficult to love yourself as a whole — you feel separated from an intrinsic part you. Breastfeeding my daughter actually pushed me further from my breasts emotionally because it was not a good experience for me (though, I would do breastfeeding again because it is the best source of nutrition for a child).

But if other women can re-examine their relationship with their breasts, or their clitoris, their vulva, vagina, female prostate(!!!), et al, then the we can heal individually, and that will help women heal as a community.  Just imagine the energy shift and power surges if every woman in the world actually LOVED herself?!

Aroused and massaging,
trish

For more of my personal orgasm journey, read Trish’s Daily O.J.
Visit the AW site: Aroused Woman


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