I can’t come
Okay, maybe that’s misleading. Rephrase: I can’t have a vaginal orgasm, a G-spot orgasm, internal orgasm or whatever you want to call it. I’ve tried — believe me, I’ve tried — but I just haven’t been able to since I started having sex. It’s not for a lack of effort on my boyfriend Matt’s part; actually, that couldn’t be further from the truth. The guy can make me purr like a kitty in heat with just a flick of his wrist (or tongue), but only clitorally.
And he’s only the second guy to give me an orgasm, ever. Although, that’s partly due to the fact that, before him, most of the guys I’d hooked up with were bumbling, nervous teenagers with sweaty hands who didn’t know a clit from a nipple. After giving myself my first orgasm, I waited three long years until a guy finally managed to give me one. That was the ex-boyfriend. He was the first one to take the time to figure out what would make my legs shake. He spent hours online Googling “how to give a girl an orgasm” (he was 16 and I was his first; give the guy a break), and what do you know: it worked. I think he was more satisfied than I was.
Two types of orgasms exist for women — clitoral and vaginal. At least, according to Sigmund Freud they do. Freud decided through his studies of psychosexuality that the former was an adolescent form of climax and the latter, triggered by G-spot stimulation, was mature. Discovered by and named after German gynecologist Ernst Gräfenberg, the G-spot, also known as the female prostate or the Skene’s glands, is the spongy area of the vagina, located two or three inches up the front vaginal wall. After puberty, Freud stated, the proper sexual response would switch over to vaginal orgasm. Or orgasm without any clitoral stimulation. My opinion: complete idiot. Also: no clitoris, no opinion.
First, I owe it to myself to try for my G-spot orgasm. While the orgasms I’ve experienced certainly don’t feel juvenile to me, and I’d like nothing better than to prove Freud wrong, I’d also like to be sure I’ve explored every possibility of my sexuality.
And second, when you’ve been with someone for almost four years, the majority of which has been long distance, the lovey-doveyness starts to waver. Sure, the sex is still great, but it gets to the point when, post-coitus, rather than curling up in each other’s arms, Matt will flip the TV to Sportsnet and I’ll check my phone or pick my nails or do something equally unsexy. Thus, I also intend to rekindle the love-fire in our relationship.
So I have to do some research. What combines sexual development with relationship development? How can my partner and I strengthen our relationship as we simultaneously strengthen our sex life?
The answer: Kama Sutra.
The Kama Sutra is an ancient Indian Hindu text on the art and technique of human sexuality. Translated as “love” or “desire” from kama and “thread” from sutra, it was written by Hindu philosopher Vātsyāyana sometime between 400 BC and AD 200.
It is not pornography. Actually, it’s not even a sex manual, as most people seem to think. Rather, it is a way of living organized under three aims of life: artha (prosperity), kama (love, sensuality, pleasure) and dharma (virtue). It is a guide to living a peaceful, pleasurable and virtuous life. According to the translation of the Kama Sutra of Vātsyāyana by Richard Burton, the three virtues, in order of importance, begin with dharma, then artha and finally kama.
Still, a life goal of erotic pleasure is in the top three, and it is purpose numero uno of this experiment. Off I head to the “Sexuality” section of Chapters to find Vātsyāyana’s ancient book of love.
Unfortunately, they’re out of stock. I ask a scrawny teenaged boy in a Chapters t-shirt if he can call another store for me to check if any one nearby has it. He’s never heard of the Kama Sutra. When I explain what it is, blood rushes to his face (and probably somewhere else), and he runs off to make the call.
When he returns, he tells me the closest store that has it is across the country. I thank him and return to the rows of sex books. A hot pink spine beams out at me from between Make Her Squirt! and The Gay Man’s Kama Sutra. I reach up and pluck it from the shelf — the Cosmo Kama Sutra. I flip open the naughty peek-a-boo cover and leaf through brightly coloured pages of faceless figures bending and twisting into various positions. This book, by the creators of Cosmopolitan Magazine, compresses the original 36-chapter Kama Sutra down to 77 positions and focuses on the sexual pleasure and relationship-building aspects of Vātsyāyana’s text. That hits all the right spots for me.
I buy it.
I show up at Matt’s house an hour later and slap it down on his bed.
“I want to have a vaginal orgasm,” I say. “Wanna help?”
I’m not sure why I haven’t been able to have a G-spot orgasm, and I can’t say for sure the Cosmo Kama Sutra will help me reach one. Maybe it’s a mind over matter kind of deal. Or maybe I’m not physiologically made that way. I learned in UVic’s healthy sexuality course a few years ago that some people are just wired in a way that prevents it. But regardless, I do hypothesize that my relationship will be strengthened. That in some way, this sex mission will bring back some of the closeness I’ve been lacking with my man.
And so the sexperiment begins.
- Cosmo Kama Sutra
- Pillows (for Methods #2 and #4)
Method #1: The Octopus
Matt and I lay belly-down on his bed and open up the Cosmo Kama Sutra at random, figuring we’ll have a go at whatever we land on. I don’t anticipate flipping to the most complicated-looking position in the book: The Passion Propeller. In a nutshell, we’d start in missionary, and then Matt would have to do a complete 360, all the while keeping himself deep inside me. Yikes! We agree that this is a bit too advanced for our first few tries of the experiment, so I flip again. And first up, The Octopus.
Stretching his legs out across the black-and-beige striped bedspread in front of him, knees slightly bent, Matt plants his hands behind him. I face him, hands fixed behind me, too, with a foot propped on each of his shoulders.
Did I mention we’re naked?
I position myself so I’m hovering right over him, balancing on my hands and his shoulders, and lower myself down. He thrusts upward as I slide downward, and just as we’re getting into a rhythm, I catch a glimpse of our writhing bodies in the closet door mirror.
We’re an octopus. An eight-limbed tantric tangle of arms and legs connected at the genitals. I start giggling uncontrollably and my arms give out. Our octopus flounders and falls to the bed.
He looks at me, brows raised and eyes narrowed, a smirk on his lips. His I-want-you-now face. I’m about to ask if he wants to try again when he wraps his right arm around my waist, pulls my body tight to his and shifts us back into position. As we start up again, his eyes scan my body — we’ve got full-frontal panoramic views of each other — before locking on mine. Four words: eye contact is hot.
Method #2: X Marks the Spot
I flop back on the bed and gesture for Matt to have a turn choosing. He opens the book, once again at random, and, this time, X Marks the Spot.
I leave the book open beside us so we can refer to it. Following the instructions, I lie on my back with my head propped on a pillow. I tuck my knees up to my chest and cross my ankles as Matt kneels in front of me, leaning in and pulling my hips up towards his lap. I press my feet against his chest and my thighs tight together when he enters me, treating him to super-snug friction, and the angle makes him hit me right where I want it.
Whoever titled this one had it right. In minutes, I’m trembling and scratching the hell out of Matt’s chest, arms, back — anything I can get my hands on (a sign I’m close to orgasm). But any woman who’s experienced a vaginal orgasm, or close to it, can tell you that the pressure that builds from G-spot stimulation can make her feel like she has to pee. Obviously she won’t, but it makes it hard to relax and just enjoy it. So a new goal is introduced: just let go and it will come (pun intended). Anyhow, though X most definitely does mark the spot, and this is the closest I’ve ever been to that orgasm, I can’t quite get there.
Method #3: G-Spot Jiggy
You’d think this would live up to its name, but unfortunately that wasn’t the case for me. It’s more of a fancy — and probably more polite — way to say doggie-style. Don’t get me wrong: I love getting it from behind as much as any other girl with a vagina, but if I could have a G-spot orgasm from this position, then I wouldn’t really need this experiment, now would I?
Method #4: Magic Mountain
- Stack of pillows
We pile three pillows on top of each other on the floor, as the picture in the book suggests. I lean onto the mound face first, propped on my elbows, and spread my legs so he can kneel between them. The idea is that he’ll mold his body against mine, his stomach to my back, and enter me, once again from behind. But when he presses himself against me, our mountain of pillows compresses and I end up getting a puffy mouthful of comforter and a bonk on the back of the head from his chin. (Note to self: get firmer pillows.)
Method #5: Sizzling Sex Sampler
The Cosmo Kama Sutra isn’t just individual positions. It heats things up with its Sizzling Sex Samplers — ready-made menus that serve up three positions: appetizer, main course and dessert. We choose the one called “Stoke Your Love Fire,” since that was Purpose #2 of this experiment, after all. And then we Reach For The Heavens, we Now And Zen, and we Amazing Butterfly until we’re exhausted and content, snuggled up in each other’s arms.
Method #1 Save this one for a main event, rather than an opening act.
Method #2 Learn to relax and this could be it.
Method #3 An oldie but a goodie — but nonetheless nothing new.
Method #4 Inconclusive. Due to faulty materials, we were unable to complete this one.
Method #5 The editors definitely knew what they were doing when they made these samplers — a romantic and intimate all-encompassing romp.
Several weeks later, after we’ve made our way through the whole book and finished the sexperiment, I ask Matt for his feedback. He’s more likely to wear my panties than he is to initiate a talk about feelings (that is to say, he won’t), and I’m not entirely sure how he feels about the whole thing. Did he like it? Has anything changed in our relationship?
“It was one of your better ideas,” he says with a wink. “I feel like it brings us closer, you know?”
This is about the same amount of intensity he expresses when his precious Atlanta Braves make the playoffs, so it’s enough for me.
I didn’t get my vaginal orgasm. I didn’t get to experience Freud’s mature sexual phenomenon (rolling eyes here). I’ll keep trying because I’ll keep having sex, but even if I never have a G-spot orgasm, I’ll still die a sexually fulfilled woman. I did find a way to bring some passion back into the lovemaking side of my relationship, though. And with that, I am completely satisfied.