The Equal Opportunity Orgasm

Sigh.

Pretty Lady has tried, repeatedly, to pass the buck on this issue. But it seems, judging by the response to recent postings, that a large number of you have been ignoring her frequent, broad hints about reading Dan Savage. So it seems as though the responsibility falls upon her weary shoulders once again.

Gentlemen, I must ask you this. Is your wife or lady friend frequently out of sorts? Is she grumpy, querulous, impatient, nit-picky, and seemingly absent much of the time? Does she nag? If the answer is 'yes; all too often,' bear this in mind when I ask this next question.

Do you know what a clitoris is?

More than that, do you know how to find it, and what to do with it once you get there?

Gentlemen, these are not unrelated issues. Women, you say, are Mysterious. They go so far as to be Unfathomable at times. They are not direct; they do not say what they mean. They hint, they elide, they say that nothing is wrong. The gentlemen find this frustrating; they get annoyed. In return they call the ladies 'frigid.' They complain that women are not interested in sex; they become downcast, and sometimes seek external company.

Boys, This Is Not So. Listen closely. You may not like what I have to say; you may actively resist it at first. The female orgasm is not a mysterious impossibility; it may be elusive, but it is highly attainable. It also has nothing to do with that bastard Freud.

There is a profound difference, gentlemen, between Turning a Lady On and Getting a Lady Off. The former can be achieved in any number of ways; by playing lead guitar, by catching the winning pass, by backing her against a wall and biting the base of her throat. The latter can usually only be achieved in a single way; by direct, gentle, repetitive, soft, patient flicking sensations on her clitoris.

What drives us stark raving bonkers is when you continually accomplish the former and fall down upon the latter. There is absolutely nothing worse than when a darkly handsome, growly-voiced gentleman backs you confidently over a car hood and commences fingering your panties. He slings you over his shoulder, carries you up two flights of stairs and casts you wantonly upon the futon, unbuttoning your blouse with his teeth. He tongues your nipples and glides his hands all over your shuddering frame, caressing you knowingly in any number of impertinent places. He hammers a row of insistent kisses from your chin to your panty line, stripping away the last shred of fragile silk between himself and your tender skin. He teases, he probes, he overrides your last vestiges of common sense and claims you utterly.

Then he bangs you senseless, rolls over with a sigh of satisfaction and falls asleep.

Boys, I have heard many of you complain about the female tendency to threaten castration, when miffed over personal or political issues. This sort of scenario, I believe, is at the root of this tendency.

Sexual frustration makes women insane. It makes us want to simultaneously burst into tears, dismember a feather pillow and tear the gentleman's hair out. Since we love the gentleman, since we are Relational, we do not do so. We merely become distant, placatory, and passive-aggressive. Can you blame us?

Well, of course you can. This is why Pretty Lady has taken it upon herself to override Freud, and re-educate all the lovely gentlemen of her acquaintance.

The clitoris, dear gentleman, is a small button of exquisite sensitivity, located Front and Center. It can be located by fingering a lady gently, while intently observing her demeanor. The moment she sighs, relaxes, arches her back and rolls her eyes up in her head, you have found it.

Once there, patience is key. You have all the time in the world to lazily caress, explore, strip, probe, nibble, tongue, and roam freely over her sensate skin. A woman's entire body is an erogenous zone. She will lie quiescent and blissfully compliant as long as you are rubbing her back, stroking her hair, sucking her earlobes and twiddling her nipples. But you must come back to the clitoris, and back, and back, and back. All other is in vain, else.

When the moment has arrived to bring your lady to a decided climax, you must be serious, you must be solemn. Juvenile remarks, extraneous slurping noises, negative criticism and needlessly vulgar comments are Right Out. Just because your gonads kicked in when you were thirteen years old, does NOT mean that acting like a thirteen-year-old is sexy. A large part of a woman's erotic temperament is psychological, and you can wilt a sultry female mood quicker than an iris out of water, by reminding her of awful Ronnie Clements from the eighth grade. So cut it out.

No, you must be strong, you must be confident, you must be assertive. You must arrange the lady on her back and make languid, intent circles in the place you have cleverly discovered, while gazing deeply into her eyes. Deliberately, you plant a firm kiss on her navel, and work your way southward. You locate your target and make an experimental probe with your tongue. When she gasps, moans, wriggles convulsively and closes her eyes, continue performing the action which produced this result. Do not stop.

I cannot tell you how important it is that you do not stop.

If you have any experience with playing the bassoon, this will come excessively in handy. Flick. Trill. Tremolo. Maintain a steady, light rhythm. Do not worry about being boring. This is the one occasion when you may repeat yourself ad infinitum and the lady will never even think of complaining.

Flick. Flick. Flick. Do not stop. Do not stop until the lady has gone beyond gasping; until she has gone beyond the ability to verbalize. Do not stop until she has been thrashing from side to side in a frenzy for uncountable seconds, until her body suddenly goes rigid and perfectly still, until she heaves a gargantuan sigh of release and heavenly visitation, and great harmonic tremors go surging through her core. Do not stop even then; do not stop until she cries, brokenly, "Stop! Stop! Stop!"

Then you may slow down. You may broaden your range, you may become creative, you may become gently humorous once again. You may pet your lady.

You may, then, bang her as much as you please; from the front, side, back, against a wall, over a car hood, in any of a hundred tantric positions. She will not be placating you; she will not be concealing any smouldering resentment, she will not ever hint at castration. She may even have another orgasm or two.

But if you repeatedly, selfishly neglect to perform this simple set of actions, you will have no-one to blame but yourself when, full of remorse, you call your ex-lover drunkenly at two in the morning and beg for another chance. She will then declare, with cold indifference, "Why should I bother? YOU never did."

How to Give a Good Christian Blowjob

In the proper circumstances, Pretty Lady is All For bl0wjobs. They assist in natural family planning, they tighten the skin over one's cheekbones, they keep one's husband in a state of rosy contentment. Any good Christian wife who cavils at performing them is taking grave risks with her familial stability. Thus, Pretty Lady has decided to provide some simple bl0wjob guidelines, in the interests purely of ensuring that Good Christian Families stay contentedly together.

Now, ladies, it is paramount to treat your husband's penis with affection, tenderness and respect. Shrinking, shuddering, and refusing to touch it manually for more than a second or two are unseemly behaviors, and are likely to produce despondency in your husband. If you are having trouble overcoming residual pre-marital taboos against stroking, petting, grabbing, massaging or kissing your husband's member, try thinking of it as a small, cuddly animal, like a gerbil or a Guinea pig. One wishes to develop a relationship of casual familiarity with this loveable creature. One ideally should get into the habit of giving it a friendly little pat at every socially appropriate opportunity, just so that it doesn't feel neglected.

When one is preparing to give one's husband the sort of bl0wjob which will reduce him to a gibbering puddle of grateful pheromones, it is best to proceed in stages. Ideally, one should arrange one's timing so that there is nothing boiling over on the stove, the children are in school, and your husband has no crucial business meetings scheduled for the next hour or two. "Quickies" can be useful and enjoyable, but within a long-term relationship one has the opportunity, and indeed the onus, to develop a more extended artistic repertoire.

Thus, begin slowly, even flirtatiously. Give your husband an affectionate hug. Nibble on the place just behind his earlobe. Snuggle your pelvis against his groin, as a sort of hint. Thoughtfully, almost absently, begin to rummage around his fly, with innocent curiosity. If you husband is the man I think he is, you will shortly find yourself reclining upon the nearest horizontal surface. Get those pesky boxer shorts out of the way. Then get down to business.

It is important to understand that the penis has many moods, many phases. In the early stages of erection, the penis is a fragile creature, a sensitive little fiddlehead. One must not play too rough. One caresses it, gently but firmly, until it begins to quiver. As it blossoms into its fuller potential, one's strokes and fondling may become correspondingly more assertive. It is at this point, when a certain stalwart attention has been achieved, that the lips and tongue come into play.

Start by giving the lovely, smooth head of your husband's penis a swirly, affectionate little kiss, including tongue friction, perhaps accompanied by some light, preparatory sucking. Run your tongue around its ridge a few times, exerting a gentle but insistent pressure, lingering in the interesting places with jazzy insouciance, as though the penis were a keyboard and your tongue were John Coltrane. Lick ripplingly up and down the shaft. Continue stroking and caressing with the tips of your fingers, then with your whole hand, paying equal attention to those cute little testicles. This is, of course, a highly intuitive process; you will find yourself almost instinctively meeting pressure for pressure, as your husband's mental focus becomes increasingly concentrated upon the territory which you are so eagerly exploring.

Now it is time to get serious. Take as much of the penis into your mouth as can be comfortably allowed, using your tongue both as a buffer and an active source of creative friction. Where the physical dimensions of your mouth fall short, pick up the slack with your hand. It is PARAMOUNT to avoid dental contact at all times, unless your husband is a masochistic freak. To ensure this, create a tense suction by pulling your lips over your teeth, curling your tongue around and forward, and moving your whole head up and down like a piston, so that the primary source of pen1le stimulation is issuing from your lips, tongue and hand, not your teeth, inner cheeks or throat. Particularly not your throat. That is a fantasy and a myth.

Find your way into a comfortable position, so that you may continue doing this for awhile. Feel free to kneel against the side of the bed or couch, or prop your husband against a wall. You may even strap him symmetrically to the bed, if he is into that sort of thing. Be generous with lubrication. If your cheeks get tired, take a brief rest, continuing manual stroking. Have fun with it. A good bl0wjob is like a sonata; it has movements. Alegro, largo, alegretto.

At a certain point, a crossroads is reached. When your husband begins panting and gasping incoherently, and his penis swells to twice its previous size, you have arrived there. Stay the course. Continue stroking and sucking in a consistent rhythm, if possible even increasing your pressure. Upon the inevitable explosion, remain calm. Take stock of the situation; continue cradling your husband's quavering penis in your mouth, while keeping your tongue flexed and ready to respond. When you feel the time is right, swallow. Then you may purr and continue gently cradling the nice little penis, as it subsides into sleep once again.

Pretty Lady is certain that these instructions are merely basic and preliminary; her worldly experience is not infinite. Please feel free to chime in with additions, suggestions and caveats.

With apologies to Cynthia Heimel.

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