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Look Ma,
No Hands
By Rose Cooper
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I’ve
always been jealous of people who knew cool party tricks. I actually
have my own special trick - but it’s reserved for parties where
I am the only person invited.
I can think myself to orgasm.
Yep, “look Ma, no hands”. No hands, fingers, toes, dildos,
vibrators, tongues, phallic vegetables, pillows or even feathers are required.
Oh…and no penis either.
In retrospect, I now realise that I started climaxing in my sleep from
about 12 years of age. I never caressed myself, it just happened. I didn’t
know what it was. I woke up thinking “wow!” and went back to
sleep hoping it would happen again. At 17, I finally had my “first” orgasm
awake - with a boyfriend stimulating me clitorally, and the penny finally
dropped.
Before then, I hated my clitoris to be touched. On Bingo night, however,
my boyfriend was too tired for sex and I was horny as hell. I eventually
gave up in a huff and turned my back to sleep. Turns out he was fighting
a losing battle, cos soon he was lustily probing at me from behind. He
eased it in and brought his hand around front to tickle the little man
in the boat. This was an entirely new position for me, and with all the
built up frustration, it felt great! I had an out-of-body experience that
felt excruciatingly horrible/blissful simultaneously. He had to put his
hand over my mouth to stifle my screams. La petite mort.
I died and was born again.
Henceforth I became “clitorally-dependent”. I even thought
women who said they could climax from mere intercourse alone were LYING,
PROPAGANDA-SPREADING BITCHES, DETERMINED TO MAKE ME FEEL INADEQUATE!
He created a monster. I masturbated like a mad woman a few months perfecting
the climaxing caper. I became multi-orgasmic, sometimes challenging myself
to see how many orgasms I could have before my hand gave out – I
think the record was about a dozen or so. I gave myself RSI. For years,
orgasms and my clitoris went hand in glove. Yet I always suspected that
if I could come in my sleep (hands free), then the same would happen in
my waking life eventually. I figured it would come and find me – and
it did.
The first time, it happened during the birth of my second child, aged 29.
Yes, during. I was straddling a chair, deeply breathing my way through
contractions when I literally felt my cervix open. I moaned loudly with
the pain, and at the tail end of one contraction, I felt something remarkable…an
orgasm. A fucking painful one, but it was undoubtedly an orgasm.
When my first husband and I had sex, six weeks later, something in me had
definitely shifted. On that particular night, I felt more centrally focussed
and primal. I orgasmed immediately before and then again during penetration,
no digits required. It was like my vocal chords and breathing had taken
over from my clitoris as the trigger. It was an isolated occurrence.
I was 35 when we separated. Sexual peak time and I was ravenous after 16
years of predictable monogamy. My entire body was an erogenous zone. I
thought about sex 24/7. Every person I encountered was in serious risk
of seduction. It was during this time, between husbands, that I was journeying
home from work on the train. I was even hornier than usual, and my stop
was about 10 stations away. It occurred to me that I could probably have
an orgasm. I gazed surreptitiously at the other passengers; almost daring
someone to lock eyes with me and suspect what was going on. Three stops
to go, I realised I’d have to encourage this phenomenon along somehow,
but obviously I could not touch myself. I fixed my gaze out the window,
clenched my pelvic muscles, and then just about every muscle in my body.
The person sitting behind me might have thought I was either laughing or
crying as my shoulders twitched uncontrollably during the release. I reached
my stop, watery at the knees and rather elated at this clever turn of events.
I rang up a friend I’d been sleeping with to tell him all about it – giving
us both another orgasm!
Unlike my teenage masturbation-mania, I wasn’t hooked on train-sex.
I met my new husband and soon afterwards, had another child. Who had time?
Besides, men do love to feel needed. My husband feels like the world’s
greatest lover, cos I do come, literally at the drop of a hat, but I do
reserve most orgasms for intercourse. (He really is good at it!) However,
if afterwards, I still feel orgasmic, I just squeeze my pelvic muscles
and pop out a couple more.
I know what you’re thinking, have train will travel. However, I have
since put myself to the test – locomotive notwithstanding. No worries,
I really can just lie there – relatively still and make myself come,
without touching myself anywhere…piece of cake. It takes about ten
minutes to work one up. It’s just a matter of thinking horny thoughts;
tensing and relaxing muscles, breathing rapidly and/or moaning and basically
letting myself go inwardly berserk. It’s like stifling a scream – whilst
still screaming internally. It’s not a power I wield in an unwieldy
fashion, but it’s nice to know it’s there. When my kids grow
up, leave home and it’s just my husband and I with more time alone
on our hands...well the future possibilities look limitless. Second honeymoon
here we…um…come.
I believe that you too, can have a body like mine. Just be like the Little
Engine that Could, and tell yourself - “I think I can, I think I
can”.
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Rose |
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