One of the things that therapy has taught me over the years, are the deep issues, traumas or unrecognized conditions that make me... me. But Smut Books, audio books and SmutTok have taught me that apparently I have a kink. I call it "The Good Girl". Looking at it...
They say that somewhere, far away in a magical land; a land of fairies, princess, dragons and unicorns, lies the greatest mythological creature of them all….the female orgasm. It has rarely been seen, often occurred falsely and sonnets have been created to praise it.
When it came to me, this mythological creature was just that, a myth. I had been having sex for years…YEARS! And never had an orgasm. Ok, now this is where it gets tricky. You would assume, gentlemen, that each time we engage in a sexual act, we have that big “O” moment. Well, like there is no Santa, there is no truth in that statement, either. And being a professional singer/actress, some of my best work has been done horizontally.
But then I stumbled upon it. On a sunny afternoon, while sleeping with my current flame, there it was, my first orgasm. We shall call it, Mr O. Mr O and I had been friends for years. We had a lot in common: military, friends, classmates, colleges. He was and still is a really great guy. (And he will tell you that too.)
But though we had great sex, I still never experienced the allusive orgasm. At this point I seriously thought, there was something wrong with me. And the funny thing is, I found that most of my girlfriends felt the same. If we aren’t having that big moment, it must be our fault. But if a horse doesn’t win the Kentucky Derby, is it his fault, or the person riding it? Well, if you look at it that way, it can be said, that it is the fault of both. But I would like to think it’s the jockey who holds most of the responsibility.
Now, I would like to go on record by saying, that Mr O, has always been amazing. Pre orgasm as well as post. And I am happy that my first “O” was with him. He was older than me, more experienced and very talented. But the quest for the “Big O” was something like a great romance, it happens to sneak up on you, when you aren’t looking for it. On this sunny day, we decided to engage in a little “Afternoon Delight”. The song now holds a special place in my heart.
Nothing was being done out of the ordinary on both of our parts. Yes, it was a bit complicated in my small day bed that I had had since my freshmen year of college, but no new moves, no new technique, but still, quite amazing. And then, it happened. Just as an unexpected surprise, it arrived, my first orgasm. Ok, I will admit, I became a bit emotional, but I didn’t want Mr O to know that. I also didn’t want to deal with the inevitable conversation of “You don’t have an orgasm every time we have sex?” Ugh, you men are so judgemental sometimes. So I lay there, deep in my bliss and a single tear welling up in my eye. I looked at him and remember grinning the dumbest, biggest grin in the world. And he rolled over.
That’s ok. This was my moment. My joyous occasion. My newest, biggest toy on Christmas morning that I get to bask in the complete and utter joy of it. Until I decide that I want another, only bigger and better. It was years later that I told Mr O that he was my first. “I was your FIRST?” he asked. No, not like that “You were my first orgasm.” And then, much like I did that day, he gave me the dumbest, biggest grin in the world.
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