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Now let's start talking about my attempts to get an orgasm. For the first time in a long time, or whatever, in my entire life, I began to worry about myself in sex. We no longer cared about his penis, everything worked out somehow on its own, every action became open and aimed at my arousal. He was relegated to the background, and this very fact led to an even greater erection.

Thirty to forty minutes became the norm to satisfy both. We orgasmed once every three or four days on a regular basis for three years in a row.

Of course, there were mistakes, in addition there were colds and business trips, but overall it was very smooth and stable.

The question of my frigidity or imitation was closed once and for all.

In addition, I no longer allowed myself to look bad in front of my husband, except for illness (and then, girls, I comb my hair and try to look like a lady even at such moments).

Now I have a cold, an epidemic is raging outside the doors, I have been sitting at home for five days with an unwashed hair, a red nose and no makeup.

But!

I took care of such moments in advance.

I have permanent makeup done on my eyebrows and lips, my frontal muscles are paralyzed with Botox, so my whole face looks very pretty even against the backdrop of coughing and blowing my nose.

I'm in clean, fitted pajamas, my hair is in a braid and I walk with a straight back, so as not to forget that I am a goddess.

About the goddess — this is a new trick, by the way. When I want to slouch, I say to myself “goddess” and immediately my shoulders straighten. It's funny. Right now I’m sitting writing a book, and my shoulders are already stretching to straighten as I type the word “goddess” on the keyboard.

I used to think that I was the only one who didn’t experience pleasure with men. Because my friends were embarrassed by this conversation and took the topic aside, as if not wanting to continue.

I insisted, but found out things that were unpleasant for myself. It turned out that I was really the only one who was somehow different, which is why I developed a special behavior. To be different from other women, I faked an orgasm. I didn't want to be worse than others. Now I know that many of us do not get a thrill from sex with a partner. And before I lived in the illusion of the dishonesty of my friends.

One said:

— I always reach the end if I'm on top.

Second:

— And it happens to me rarely, but in any position.

Third:

— I will not say. But I'm happy with everything. — and smiles slyly. What does it mean? Are you generally ashamed to talk about this topic, or are you really succeeding at something?

The fourth says that she experiences it, but cannot describe it. And she says it so unconvincingly.

In general, when asked how this is happening for you, they all responded with silence.

Not a single one said that it was fireworks, a fountain of feelings, the clitoris or the area next to it contracted and then pleasure spread throughout the body.

Nobody said that it was as if you wanted to pee, but in the end you get a high in a completely different place, far from the urethra.

They were not inspired when telling and describing their impressions.

There was no passionate conversation around it. What does it mean?

I personally know that my orgasm is always fireworks, a fountain, sometimes not like on US Independence Day, but still a boom. Even a dull little orgasm is a huge surge of emotions. This causes a rush of blood in my face, slight shortness of breath, and such a pleasant muscle weakness.

A seditious thought creeps in that not a single friend of mine has experienced this, otherwise it turns out that they are much shyer than me, which I strongly doubt, although anything is possible.

Am I really that frank? Ladies, tell me?

Or the whole point is that most of us have problems with sex.

If we stop hiding it and start talking openly, we might be able to get one simple message across to men: You guys need to work a little harder.

Yes. You should sweat and endure some awkwardness because the mere presence of you with a beautiful big thing does not satisfy us. And you shouldn't learn from porn films, because they're all directed by the director and aimed at men.

A woman can get aroused by another woman in a porn film, but rarely by a man.

So these are not the same courses.

Your woman will tell you how she would like it. If she is shy, take a course from the guys who have already eaten a dog at this, they are on the Internet, they are popular intimate masters, their lessons are recorded on video, and there is no pornography, a very sincere approach, designed to reveal femininity and its orgasmicity.

I have always been fascinated and at the same time confused by the heroine of Sex and the City, Samantha Jones. According to the director's idea, she regularly gets orgasms in completely standard positions, loves to experiment and has no problems.

I can assume that until she was forty years old, which is how old she was in the series, the heroine also learned about her sexuality, and not everything was smooth there.

So, there are no ideals, I guess. But I can say for sure if we all confess.

You cannot put a smile on your face or imitate the joy of sexual intercourse with your husband if there is none.

Let him work hard. If he doesn’t succeed, then let him try harder. If it doesn’t work out, then look for other ways, or change your partner.

You know, all these marriage-motivating books talk about how to be the best in bed. How to make him love you with a blowjob and so on.

This is all great, but will he give something in return?

So you met a Hollywood star, a handsome man and a world-class sex symbol, he is rich and around him there are a lot of beautiful models, actresses, smart and equally rich. I’m exaggerating, of course, but everyone had such a guy in their neighborhood, surrounded by them.

By some miracle, you managed to draw his attention to yourself, attract him with your individuality and originality, and become his girlfriend.

And then it starts, what? A race with rivals so that he doesn’t even look the other way.

You have sex with him every day, surprise him with your tricks and calluse your hands to satisfy your prince like no one else before you.

What's next? When will you demand the same from him?

— Well, how? I can't. He might leave me. Suddenly he leaves for a less demanding woman.

See what makes us imitate? He will go to someone easier, to someone with whom you don’t have to fuss, experience inconvenience and internal discomfort, see yourself as a failed lover, a loser. After all, it will be easier for him to recognize you as frigid than to persistently move towards the goal until “Everest” is conquered.

Moreover, you are right, most likely it will be so.

I know a thing or two about men.

They love this race. This is a sporting interest for them. They were not your first in sex, but they will be your first in orgasm.

It turns them on. At this moment you become the most interesting to them. Day and night, whether at work or on vacation, they think about what else they can do to excite you and bring you to the boiling point.

When this peak is conquered, of course he will relax, rest on his laurels, covered in trophies and repeat successful actions over and over again, but if in a year or two you have problems again, he will be ready, look for a solution and help you. After all, the female orgasm itself, her very pleasure turns a man on more than any oral, manual or anal caresses.