Touch me there

So, I have covered the penis and the nipple. Any idea where I’m going today? It’s probably on the tip of your tongue – you can’t quite put your finger on it…

To mark today being the last day of International Clitoris Awareness Week I thought I would take a journey ‘down under’.  The word ‘clitoris’ is apparently also Greek for key and is seen as the key to female sexuality, no doubt unlocking the door to our pink caverns.

For someone who has been around the block at least twice, it may surprise you to learn that it has only been in the last four or five years that I have really enjoyed having a ‘bean’.

Before then, some attempts had been made to give it a good time, but few even bordered on a mild tingle, never mind a full-blown pulsating orgasm. At the beginning of my sexual adventures, I had an irrational fear of losing control – put it down to fear of the unknown or self-consciousness over how I might have looked if I let go. So I never allowed myself to come, pushing my lovers’ hands away when I felt my body start to spasm or pulling them up on top of me and forcing them inside if they had been munching the ‘furry burger’. I would usually lie and say I had climaxed and allow them to continue pumping until they exploded, assuming this was what everyone else did.

Funny how age and experience change things – and having sex with someone who is determined to share the bliss. I drifted through my married life in the same way I had previously – as soon as I reached a tingle, I would force him to get on with the rest of it, get it over and done with.

But (as you have already guessed) The Man changed this. He was determined to take me to the other side and persisted in pleasuring me until I reached the dizzy heights of climax, all 8,000 nerve endings included. My clit must have wondered what hit her. She had finger stimulation, a never-tiring mouth and tongue and sometimes a vibrator. The Man would also continue to work his busy fingers while he was inside me, feeling my vaginal walls squeezing him and my body juddering in spin cycle underneath him.

He also bought me my first vibrator so I could enjoy all this when I was alone. So my ‘bald man in a boat’ now leads a very active life, taking regular trips upstream and not complaining about getting his feet wet from time to time.

5 thoughts on “Touch me there

    • I believe this is an American metaphor. I’m sure I read it in a magazine many years ago, but it’s always stuck in my head.

  1. Firstly, what a fantastic euphemism “bald man in a boat” it might not be new, but I’d really not heard it before. .
    Wow this is quite a confession! Well done you.
    From this male perspective, it is hard to understand how women can be so inhibited that they are not prepared to let go. Really sex is a messy event when you think about it, but women seem to feel that they must look like a supermodel, even with their knickers round their ankles & their knees pinned to their breasts.
    I was recently surprised to see the sex columnist Suzie Godson even admit to vowing not to go on top for fear of her negative body image when viewed from beneath.
    Yes pornography has a lot to answer for, for raising unrealistic expectations; and some men are pretty heartless. Yet we as a gender, are not really half as picky as you might think, and novelty is quite a turn on too. As an artist, I am often still surprised at what parts of a women I find erotic.
    More importantly, to us men, there is nothing more alluring than a flushed maiden who’s obviously revelling in our attentions. It boosts our ego to believe that we can do that; and conversely, the thought that the women was just pretending really is a kick in our credentials.
    Yes of course sex is partly about the fricassee of anticipation, but really; if you are prepared to get intimate with another person, you should believe that they will respect you, So I just want to extoll to all your female readers, please leave your inhibitions with your clothes, come on and enjoy the ride.
    Ps Hopefully this time I’ve not missed another case of predictive spelling (chesty cough :).

    • Hi DGS.

      I really enjoy your feedback. If only all men could provide the reassurance you have here. But this is half the problem – communication. One of the reasons why us women have all these hang-ups is that men very rarely tell us what they are thinking and feeling and whether they may even actually like our rounded tummies. This means that a lot of the time we are trying to second-guess them or guessing that they find us unattractive. What we think they think and what is actually going on in their heads is probably poles apart.

      DSM
      P.S. Your spelling is spot-on.

      • Ha ha, Yes you are right about lack of communication. I began to pen a reply; about the experience of male adolescence, testosterone, ignorance and the growing cult of negative body image. But I quickly realised there’s the basis of a thesis here and more than enough to bore the pants off your readers. Since that’s a pretty crap seduction technique; I’ve decided to abandon the idea, and continue to flirt with your thoughts instead. 🙂

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