Since my dear darling Jessica shared her musings about some of the things that chase her orgasm into deep space, I thought it might be helpful to have an opposite list…things that bring orgasm into inevitability. What she said about truth and disclaimers.
1. Led Fucking Zeppelin. I know. This is likely true of many, many women for at least thirty-plus years. Is it Robert Plant? The man’s voice certainly oozes sweaty, dirty sex and more testosterone than your average Rush Limbaugh listener desperately seeks. Perhaps, it is Jimmy Page – he of the soaring and singularly sultry guitar riff. John Paul Jones and John Bonham cannot be left out – for the melodies and pounding help with the um…pounding. So. Find you a playlist, buy a box set – find your way to the climax-gift-that-keeps-on-giving that is:
“Squeeze me, babe, ’till the juice runs down my leg
Do, squeeze, squeeze me, baby, until the juice runs down my leg
The wayyou squeeze my lemon-a
I’m gonna fall right outta bed, ‘ed, ‘ed, bed, yeah”
If for some reason life is really cruel and you cannot get any Zeppelin. I recommend Jack White/The White Stripes as a suitable replacement. This is a pretty raunchy one that is among my favorites:
2. The Moderate Intake of Drugs and Alcohol. My preferred substances do not include stimulants of any kind (I’m stimulated enough, thank you very much). Too much of anything means you won’t remember how turned on you were (or in some extreme cases – that you were turned on at all). Too little and well…then you are just sober. Which is noble. Yay you (and not me)
3. Filthy Talk. When I was younger and far more virginated, I believed that sex should be dreamy, poetic and soaked in love. With experience (lots and lots), I’ve come to realize this is bores me to tears. And tears always turn me right on off. Call me names, describe what you want, demand it. And create an atmosphere where all of this is a-ok. Poetry is right up there with ice cream for things that make life worthwhile for me…but, I don’t want sweet…I want hot. Nasty and hot.
4. Fantasies. Shared and Not. This one is a little dicey and can result in *Long Talks (which generally makes my orgasm flee faster than The Flash), so you need to know your partner well. How much detail can he or she handle? Secrets are not always bad you know. It is perfectly ok to hoard your fantasies to yourself and never tell a soul. Maybe they are memories (some of mine are) and maybe they are images from media or just your imagination. Regardless of the origin, for me–conjuring pictures in my mind can bring me to the brink almost instantaneously. Jess suggests that maybe you should make your fantasies fair for your partner — in other words…don’t fantasize about their best friend. I actually disagree (so very rare). I think your fantasy life should have no limits whatsoever. That being said, you don’t have to articulate every little thing…especially if it may be hurtful. But, if your mind ain’t free, what is?!?
5. Eye Contact. I’m with Jess on this one. If you are making a meal of my lusciousness…don’t look at me. It is distracting. I’m self-conscious enough. I don’t want to worry about what I look like or what you look like or why this is taking so long. On the other hand, if intercourse is happening, I love looking into my husband’s eyes. Because he is handsome and intense and that shit works for me.
6. Costumes, Play, Toys etc. Sex should be fun. If it isn’t, you are doing it wrong. Anything and everything (that doesn’t cause harm) should be ready and available. This is another unfortunate casualty of a certain brand of both romanticism and feminism. I do not subscribe to either. Toys and role-playing don’t mean anything is lacking, it means you enjoy cumming. And I do. Again and again. My favorite store in the Nashville area is Lovebound. Go with your partner (or not…just GO). Then, come with your partner. See? Easy peasy.
What turns you on? Share below.