What the hell am I doing here?
Sitting in my car staring at the back alley door that will open into my very first 'Sexual Workshop' my mind and heart are racing. My imagination has gone into Red Bull overdrive politely adding to my anxiety by spewing up images of mass orgies, unshaven armpits and illegal substances. I'm unsure of what to expect, but I have a feeling there will be lot of hugs, hand mirrors and awkwardness. I nearly convince myself not to go in. And then...I do.
As I walk through the threshold of the Sydney Xplore Festival (a three day event that explores the art of lust and sexuality) the first thing that strikes me is the energy of calm ambiance.
My nervous apprehension vanishes with the realization that there are no nude worship circles or predatory advances here. I instantly feel amongst friends. I'm surrounded by people that seem to have consumed large quantities of acceptance and openness for lunch,(without the hippy free-love side salad). People from all walks of life, young and older, laze around reflecting on pervious workshops, and, I suspect chuckling at all of "the others" outside these walls who believe sensuality happens whilst in a mini skirt after three vodka cranberries.
The gong is sounded. Its time to take our place inside the studio. I walk in, sans previous fear or embarrassment - the energy of this place is intoxicating. Taking off my shoes, I join the large group on the floor eager to listen to our American sexual educator, Tristan Taormino unleash the secrets of the infamous G-Spot.
Funny, engaging and real, Tristan certainly knows her stuff. Over the years I have come to regard my G-spot in a similar fashion to finding that perfect dress at DFO - you know it's there somewhere, you just have to sort though all the crap to find it....and 9/10 times someone has always gotten there first.
But I've been looking in all the wrong places. My G-spot GPS is all out of whack!
Tristan explains the way to find you Girly G, is through toys and fingers (a partners is best).
The G-spot requires firm pressure not tender tickles. It craves authority, directness and ownership. Miss G is certainly no pussy when it comes knowing what she wants.
A hard, curved sexual aid is best for G-spot exploration, used in a 'come hither' motion.
Taking the time to be fully aroused helps activate the center, making it easier to locate. Time is key, G-spotters, do not rush, enjoy and savour the sensation - Oh my! How wonderfully new age I'm sounding!
It's now time for the participation part of the class. PARTICIPATION?!?!
I must look like someone had just told me we were all about to knicker drop and knuckle down (oh wait...they had!) because it was quickly added it wasn't a compulsory class component, only those who felt "comfortable" should test drive some of Tristan's techniques. There are towels up the front people!
I want to run from the room, whilst covering my face yelling " MY EYES, MY EYES!"
But I don't. Wide-eyed wonder has me glued to my spot. I HAVE to watch for journalistic purposes (reasoned my inner perv). But it was more than that. I wanted to see if these women could find what I had so frequently missed. Were they built differently? Did their vaginas have huge flashing lights and witches hats directing them to G-Town? Could they summon up huge waves of orgasmic pleasure by simply locating a small womanly bean of bliss?
And if so...fancy helping me with mine?
All active G-spotters today spotted their G. I didn't. I was too busy fumbling in a corner under a stolen yoga matt doubling as a disguise, to actively and confidently participate in the search.
What I did find though, was the importance of education and then exploration. All too often we read the articles but wimp out at the homework, hoping that our next sexual partner has done it for us. We ALL know they haven't!
But I intend too...just as soon as I finish this...