Recently, at a sex retreat (yep!), I met a woman who could orgasm while eating her lunch at a cafe, waiting for her bus, or standing in the line at Coles. She spoke of a waterfall of energetic bliss that spilt out of her in great gushes, whenever she put her mind to it… I immediately thought of my new suede shoes that weren’t yet water proof.
However strange she was, there was something about this woman that intrigued me. She had a confidence, a kind of sexual glow that gave off the impression that the old duck knew a thing or two about pleasure. I wanted to know her secrets... or the name of the pills she’s on.
You see, for some time now I have had a terrible case of “barely there” orgasms, an annoying affliction of substandard climaxes, brought about by general lack of interest, time and foreplay. My self-loving has regressed to a vanilla five minute “flick and fiddle”. Even my recent lovers (sorry boys) have produced a less-than-magnificent performance.
My fear of a lifetime of mediocre sex led me here: into the middle of nowhere, signed up for three days of outrageously weird and kinky workshops. All in the hope that I too will be able to climax while buying milk and frozen vegetables, or least figure out if there really is more to sex than a two second surface release.
First up is a workshop called Energetic O – it’s hosted by the climaxing lady herself...of course! Over 40 smiling faces file in the room and I wonder how on earth anyone is able to achieve any type of orgasm with so many strangers around. But I suck up my reservations and jump right into the first exercise...The Shagging Frog.
Crouched like a frog on a lily pad, I thrust my pelvis back and forth at my partner while I force loud grunting noises from the back of my throat. “AH AH AHHHHH” I pant into a (strange) man’s face. However funny and completely insane the activity may have looked, I did in fact feel a shift of energy down below. My vagina was responding to the sexiness of the frog shag dance, it was working!
Sweaty and exhausted, I lay on my back on my yoga matt and following instructions raised my legs high in the air before separating them. Holding them steady I breathed into my, erm, feminine opening and imagined a light between my legs growing. All around me people were making ridiculously loud and annoying sounds of exhalation and it was putting me off.
I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the movement of energy through my body, breathing slowly and deeply. One by one the people around me popped their pleasure corks, spilling out cries of ecstasy between full body convulsions. The man next to me was spazzing out so hard I thought he was having a stroke.
Lost amongst it all, I sat up and looked at my classmates melt into their orgasms and lay weak as water by the end of them. I began to cry. I could never do that, not matter hopw badly I wanted too.
After the class a wise man with a grey beard and long hair asked me why I was so upset. I told him that I was sexually cursed. He told me that wasn’t true and that I possessed everything I needed to tap into the magic of multiple orgasms. So I asked him to teach me. And he did.
Find out how next time!