On what an orgasm feels like

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I challenged Stuart to draw what an orgasm looks like, and his interpretation is remarkably horny

Image by Stuart F Taylor, who responded to my ‘what does an orgasm look like?’ question with remarkable aplomb.

One of the hardest things about writing filth is that the ultimate aim of it – the orgasm – is spectacularly difficult to explain in words.

I’ve heard it described as a ‘shattering’ feeling, of a powerful heat, a flash, whatever, and none of that seems to properly sum up what happens in my body when I come. Ultimately, the only way to know is to stick your hand down your pants and let those familiar feelings wash over you, whereupon you’ll go ‘yep, that feels pretty much like it. Case closed.’

Unfortunately, of course, I can only ever know how it feels like for me. While I’m happy rubbing enthusiastically at myself to remind me just how awesome orgasms are, I’m singularly disappointed that I’ll never be able to experience an orgasm from a penis-holder’s point of view. Moreover, I’m pretty sure that other women experience orgasms differently to me. Hell, mine are different depending on what position or mood I’m in, and whether they’re brought on by a cock, a battery-operated gadget or (most frequently) my own fair hands.

Write about orgasms, win unspecified prizes

So, a challenge: below I’ve had a bloody good go at describing exactly what I think an orgasm feels like. If you would like to have a crack at describing how it feels when you come, please do leave a description in the comments below, on your own blog, or email it to hellogirlonthenet at gmail if you’re shy (names won’t be published if you don’t want them to be). Because I really really want to hear your stories, there’ll be a prize for the best one, although I haven’t quite decided what that prize will be. It’ll cost at least a tenner and I promise it won’t be shit. If you have any suggestions for a prize, stick them in the comments too.

Entries close on the 26th of July, or whenever people grow bored of this game.

An unnecessarily detailed description of orgasm

It starts with all the obvious things in the obvious places – tingling, warm sensations in my clit, my cunt. A tightness in my chest that’s warm too. Most of these things are incidental, unnoticeable while I focus on whatever’s making them happen – my thighs wrapped round someone, the quick urgent movements that I’m making to rub myself up against something that feels good.

But at a certain point they start to take over. The sensation of movement in my muscles is eclipsed by a slight feeling of weakness in my limbs, and a building tightness at the base of my stomach.

And when the tightness builds, the waves start. Slowly at first, there’s a creeping sensation just at the top of my thighs. If I focus I can make it come quicker – make me come quicker. The waves build and I feel close to falling into it. No, not falling as such, but letting go. Relaxing. I feel like I’m on the brink of an amazing stretch or a yawn, something that will push relief out through all of my limbs.

When the actual orgasm hits, it hits at the base of my stomach again. I couldn’t pinpoint where until about three months ago when someone showed me an MRI scan of the clitoris. The clitoris, like the most unusual iceberg you ever saw, has more below the surface than you’d imagine. Nerve endings stretch back into the body and up through your groin, to that magical place in your gut. When I come, I feel it in my clit – not just the surface but through my whole clit, deep into my body.

The waves – usually between 5-10 of them, run up from that place, pushing yawn-like relief through my muscles, then quickly wash back down to my stomach and my crotch. Up, back, up and back, starting strong and powerful and gradually getting calmer. Until my thighs tremble and my arms feel weak, and the ache in my muscles takes over again.

Recently someone emailed me and told me that, after a particularly powerful orgasm, her vision is tinted green. I found this quite fascinating. Occasionally I’ll lie there after coming and see spots in my eyes, the ones you get from looking at a bright light, or if you rub your eyes too hard. Is this common? I’d love to know. But by far the most common thing for me is that after a powerful orgasm – one brought on by my favourite kind of angry, frantic sex – I get a headache.

This isn’t from the orgasm itself, or from accidentally bashing myself against the headboard. I think it’s just that in the heat and mess and lust of a good time, I temporarily forget how to breathe.

24 Comments

  • Rebecca says:

    For me it’s like this:

    It begins with a warm buzzing around my heart. This spreads to my upper arms and my head and grows, just as the nerves pulse downward towards my groin. Then the burning starts. The burning starts low and wide, around my crotch, then it intensfies and localises in my clitoris, burning more intensely as I hold my breath and stretch out my legs.

    It burns so intensely I think I’ll pass out and I breath finally, great gusts of air, and delay the inevitable for a few more seconds. It is like climbing a mountain, approaching a volcano of pure hot light and at last, just when I think I can’t take another second, I tip slowly over the edge of infinite pleasure, moaning and gasping, falling, as my head explodes with a thousand stars and I know nothing, not my own name or where I am.

    And then I’m back, heart pounding, breathing heavily, laughing, sighing.

    Ahh.

  • Posted on my site as well:
    It starts with pressure inside of me, a pressure of fiction, an awareness of movement in and out of me.

    Then I begin to tighten into the pressure. I can do this at whim, but more often than not, it just happens. When I am short on time, know this is a quickie, or am tired, I can tighten, making me come closer to the sensation faster. When I want a slow buildup, I just allow it to naturally happen, enjoy the other sensations besides the focusing on clamping down into it.

    But my orgasm gets going when I tighten around whatever is inside of me, increasing the pressure, not a consistent tighten, more like a gripping and releasing of muscles(my lover will feel this). My body grows taunt due to this tightening. I begin breathing heavier. My mind empties of thoughts. In and out, pressure on certain places, like the g-spot, deep inside, at my entrance; or held pressure in one spot that is almost so overwhelming I want it slid against rather than held against.

    All my thoughts, all my concentration, is on my muscles, on feeling the pressure build, of the gripping and releasing. I feel drawn, almost leaning my body into my groin. My stomach clenches down, my whole body becomes tense. The clenching around becomes more intense, the coming and going of pleasure building, the waves of pleasure building higher and higher, crashing faster and faster.

    It is not a letting go, unless of cohesive thoughts. It is an absolute building of pressure that is pleasant nerve endings being vibrated, thronged deeper and longer, spreading from inside my crotch, my lower belly, gripping tightly, spreading suddenly as if heat of a wildfire, moving up my torso and down my thighs at the same time, making me catch my breath, rending my limbs tense and immobile trying to clutch at anything (my toes may curl painfully at this point of clutching), my breath catching (sometimes too long), my head spinning, my thoughts completely blacking out. It is a force burning throughout my entire body, clutching it so tightly, making it rigid, flushing out even to my skin. An awareness of every muscle, a pressure so hard in my core – it is pleasure so focused, a tingling sensation that doesn’t lower or stop.

    It is quick, but it leaves me weak with its force. The tingling begins to actually represent tingling, with the skin overly sensitive, my limbs tremble, I remember to breathe, my head is still slowly spinning, my thoughts seem so distant, as if I am far away from my body, amazed at the power of my orgasm. My body is aware of how tense it is, my sex completely lets go of what is inside of me – as if taking a deep breath and releasing it, my body and limbs heavy, my chest heaving from erratic breathing, my throat raw either from screaming with the force (which allows a deeper orgasm) or from the effort in suppressing any noise (a weaker orgasm as it requires me to focus on a place other than my pleasure).

    I feel like I am sinking, my thoughts lazily floating back into my head, my body relaxing after its fierce control. I become aware of my lover again; or toy or fingers are removed. If my breathing was held, I may see black spots blurring my vision. My head may hurt, a throbbing headache, if I held my breath. This is the point where I become aware of my toes if they curled, as I try to painfully stretch them. My fingertips may have been too clenched into my lover’s skin, and just now feel the muscles protesting. I may become of raw skin that I scratched in my clenching (I will sometimes clamp nails into my thighs or calves if I am holding them up). My stomach may be sore, feeling as if I did too many crunches or sit ups. My heart hammers inside my ribcage, thunders in my ear.

    If is a strong orgasm, regardless of movement inside of me, I may still feel my muscles clenching inside still, gripping and releasing, shuddering, giving lapses of pleasure still, echoing throughout my body but not causing that tenseness, just a brief flutter of pleasant nerves being surged through, slowly until they dwindle to nothing. I call them aftershocks (as they mimic an earthquake’s to me). Or if movement/stimulation is still there, the clenching follows the pattern of movement, gripping inside of me, releasing, quicker than the first time, with more intensity, until I clench around it tightly, my body reacting far quicker, the wave of pleasure rising far higher and crashing more violently than the first time, and another orgasm grips me.

    A following orgasm; feeling just like the first, but more intense, spasms rippling through me. I become dizzy far easier, and more likely to hold my breath. Control over my noises is less likely after the first orgasm. I am less in control of it happening or the speed in which it happens.

    I am capable of multiple orgasms. I have not tested nor counted how many I can achieve in one session, though I am sure the number is more than five that I have accomplished. It leaves me weary, shaken, depleted, incapable of sound thinking, my nerve endings so sensitive to touch of different textures. I am aware of the softness of sheets, the sheen on my skin, the air flowing across, the crispness of a sting of a spank of my ass, the burning of any skin been marked too roughly, the imprint of where pressure used to be, the chill and the heat of objects around me.

    I am easier to get to orgasm from touches other than penetration, as my muscles inside my sex are far easier to tighten and clench, and need nothing to clench around to begin that cycle of spreading pleasure. If I orgasm from clitoral stimulation, it begins in my clit, sliding, the pressure dances in time to my sex, pumping the pressure of pleasure from groin outward again. If I orgasm from my nipples, they are often pinched hard, the pinching becomes a focused pain of pleasure, it travels and tugs to my groin, which clenches tight down echoing the pressure on my nipples, so tight that my body comes again.

    • Girl on the net says:

      This is also amazing – thank you for posting. Am delighted that you mention the clenching thing – I’m similar, in that if I squeeze myself tighter I can bring things on more quickly. Not to mention that it’s just an amazing sensation to feel something tighter and more solidly inside you.

  • Dave says:

    Jeez, some literate souls on here.

    I was just going to post “No, no, no, nooo, nooooo, noooooooo, YES, YESSSS, YEESSSSSSSSS!!!! …. …. Nyoes… Zzzzzz”

  • Rebecca says:

    First, the anticipation. The delicious knowledge of what is waiting. This is what makes me start to breathe a little heavier and start to writhe, ever-so-slightly. Just the mere expectation of the orgasm raises my heart rate, widens my eyes and causes me graze my teeth across my lips.
    Next comes the actual physical contact, the brush of the fingers across my nipples, the soft pinch turning to a hard bite; exquisite pain sending electricity straight to my clit. The slow writhe becomes an arched back, the sense of expectation increases, the greed for the explosion intensifies.
    Then comes the tongue, slowly tracing a path to my cunt, flickering across my clit, circling, dipping into the warm, wet opening, again, again, harder, faster, deeper.
    My breathing becomes erratic, an uncontrollable moaning escapes my lips, my heart beats faster, faster, faster. I push my clit up against the hot tongue, I tense every inch of my body, my legs straighten, my eyes close, I hold my breath and then, and then…
    Lightening bolts shoot through me, so powerful I can almost see them: I CAN see them, white flashes before my closed eyes, as my back arches violently up, my shoulders back, the name of God on my lips in a cry of joy, and pleasure, and release. My cunt tightens and relaxes, again and again, as the waves of sheer energy crash through me; energising yet depleting, each wave bringing me down both mentally and physically, until I slump, exuberant yet exhausted. I have no control over my face: my eyes remain half shut, my mouth curved into a feline grin; words of nonsense spilling from my mouth, or sometimes silence but for the panting. I feel as if I have finally relaxed after being wound tight. I feel feminine and feline and ready for sleep.

  • Richie says:

    Oh no, I had to have a wank AND some sexy time with a lady in order to provide a full evaluation. And to think my mum used to say I was lazy. (For the avoidance of doubt, she wasn’t involved in this experiment in any way)

    Firstly, there are different feelings for coming in different circumstances. So it feels different if I come inside either a cunt, a mouth or, erm, externally. It’s also different when wanking. Which is also different to being wanked. They are all similar, but slightly different.

    Generally, there is an extremely pleasant warmth that starts around my balls and (and I’m not too sure how to describe this) the ‘root’ of my cock. By root I mean that a cock isn’t blu-tacked onto that bit of your stomach 6 inches or so below the belly button. It goes further in to your body to the pit of the stomach. The warmth spreads, but not too far, and at the point where I am about to come it kind of becomes all encompassing.

    This is when brain function ceases. I try really hard to focus on who I’m with, if I’m with someone, but my brain doesn’t let me.

    Then, at the point of ejaculation, my whole body becomes more sensitive and the warmth turns into a heat. There is a bubbling sensation in my balls, and a tingling down my shaft. Or up my shaft, I’m not sure which. It feels like being tickled internally by a tiny oompah loompah living in my ball sack.

    That’s when it goes a bit slow motion and I can feel the come rising up through the shaft. When I know I am about to come the head of my cock becomes mega sensitive. At this point I desperately want to thrust. Getting a blow job, I have to really concentrate so as not to shove the blooming thing down the poor girls throat!

    More often than not, I’m a two or three squirt, then a bit of a dribble, then a few more drops. As I’m ejaculating there is a very pleasant heat, almost a burning (I wonder if I need a doctor) sensation in the head of my cock.

    For a few minutes after, the head of my cock is extremely sensitive, and I have to pull out of whatever I’m in, whether its a mouth or a cunt. A cunt, I could just about stand cos I can keep still, but if I’m in a mouth and the frisky little minx is still sucking and licking, it’s almost too much to take.

    As I mentioned, there are different feeling for different types of orgasm. Coming inside a cunt is the best and the worst at the same time. Inside the cunt you have the warmth all around the cock. I can do my final thrust with no fear of choking the lady. And best of all, because the cunt wraps so tightly round me, the actual ejaculation is slowed down. Maybe it’s because of the pressure? Or something. So I have to squeeze and clench to get the come out. My come then adds to the warmth inside her, so it’s sometimes nice to stay inside and let the feelings subside.

    It’s also the worst because I like to see me coming. Inside a cunt is all feeling with no visual stimuli. When i say ‘worst’, its still frickin awesome.

    Coming in her mouth is all the best bits of coming inside a cunt, but with the added pleasure of seeing my cock twitch as I clench. And it’s quite intense to see a woman with my cock in her mouth, and knowing what I’m doing inside her mouth.

    Wanking, and being wanked is similar but I think it’s the mental side that’s different. On my own, it’s into tissue, with her it’s onto her breasts or stomach or thighs. Or my stomach and thighs.

    My ideal, and I don’t know what this says about me so perhaps you could tell me, is half the spurts into her mouth, then pull out slightly and see the rest coming out.

    To summarise, there is a warmth, a tingling, a heat all followed by the ejaculation.

    Followed by a grin.

  • J says:

    I’m part way through writing something, but I have to ask how on earth you write anything remotely sexy without having to take frequent “breaks”. It is slowing down progress considerably.

  • George says:

    I lose control and forget the world;
    Arms and hands stiffen;
    My buttocks clench as a mellow pleasure engulfs me;
    With each contraction, my eyes screw up
    as ecstasy travels from groin to brain in heartbeat;
    With every barrage of semen the same feeling, only calmer;
    Until a grunt of relief, staring at the ceiling;
    The tears of the world are wiped away;
    Time to wipe up this mess.

  • Girl on the net says:

    Extra entry (submitted via email) by Steve:

    So, what does an orgasm feel like for a man? How does that quintessential sensation affect a card-carrying owner of a cock?

    It’s a question which can only ever be answered from a very subjective position: there’s no 100% objective way of describing the experience. In as much as there are myriad different sizes and shapes of male genitalia, I’m sure there are an equal number of varieties of orgasm. Each man’s explosion of passion will be different to his fellow’s. So, bearing this in mind, it’s only possible to describe my own experience of this magical outpouring of seed.

    I can vividly remember my first manually induced orgasm. As with many men, this first furtive spanking of the monkey took place in the bath – once that most innocent of pastimes, but from age 12 onwards the location of much fumbling, stroking and general yanking of teenage pork sword. I knew from whispered playground conversations what the mechanics of “having a wank” were. But I’d never actually tried to put these instructions into practice until this occasion. The bath is the ideal location for a quick hand shandy for two reasons: 1) the warm water of the bath tends to induce a pleasing erection without the need for any initial stroking; and 2) a wet, soapy cock is much easier to wank than a dry one. Things slip and slide a lot better, a benefit which does much to enhance the experience.

    So, bubble-covered dick in hand, I am carrying out what I believe to be the right actions. Slow, gentle manipulation of the shaft, letting the foreskin (sorry to anyone who’s no longer the owner of this part of the machinery) slide up and over the head of the penis with each stroke. This stroking movement is new to me at this point, but over the years I’ve come to know it like an old friend – as we all know, us men just *can’t* leave it alone – and this new sensation feels very good indeed.

    The orgasm, when it arrives, comes as an utter surprise. This despite the fact I’m fully aware how this routine is supposed to end. Although I know *something* will happen, at this juncture I have no idea *what* will happen. So when I feel this mounting sensation of pleasure coursing through me, and my cock suddenly tensing and throbbing like it’s never done before, I am hugely taken aback and shocked. “Wow”, I think, “This is pretty fucking amazing! Now I know why everyone spends so much time engaged in this solitary pursuit!”.

    What I’m truly not prepared for is the thick jet of semen that jerks forth from the head of my cock at the peak of this sensation of orgasm. The dizzy, hot feeling of arousal, and the sudden explosion of hot pleasure in my dick were all expected. What I’d not really expected was the physical proof of this first orgasm – the expulsion of creamy seed caught me completely surprise. And if you’ve never had that happen to you, it can be a very disarming experience. Until that point, only one liquid has ever come out of that particular hole. Then, suddenly, an altogether different substance is shooting out of your cock and splashing in little rivulets of come over your stomach and thighs.

    Don’t get me wrong. It *felt* absolutely amazing – as if something beautiful had been fired out of you like a torpedo of passion, aimed at the object of your desire and designed to blow them out of the water. But it was one hell of a shock to see that white flash of semen arcing through the air as it pulsed from the head of my new best friend. I had the feeling that I was going to be repeating this furtive experience many more times in the future.

    And so it came to be. Many things have changed about me in the past 30-odd years since that loss of innocence in a suburban bathroom. But one things hasn’t changed: I still can’t leave my cock alone. It has been my constant companion through thick and thin; through long periods of singledom and longer periods of relationship bliss; through long, boring Sunday afternoons and drunken Saturday nights; through most of my adult life, in fact.

    I still utterly love that initial feeling of arousal, as an erection begins to take hold. It could be caused by an imagined fantasy, by a smokey look of flirtation from a lover, by an erotic image on a computer screen, by the brushing of soft lips against my ear and a whispered promise of something truly filthy. But whatever the initial spur of that growing swelling in my boxers, I still revel in the feeling of blood surging to this most remote part of the anatomy and filling my shaft not just with those red corpuscles but also with the passion of arousal and all that goes with it.

    And part of this glorious feeling is knowing what will happen next – that at some not too distant point in the future, this hardened cock will spurt forth yet more devilish come and that feeling of orgasm will thrill through the shaft of my dick and fill my entire body with that helpless, all- encompassing scream of passion.

    I hope that I have many more years of these experiences to look forward to. What I experience, the way it affects my own body and the sensations it evokes in my own mind may all be utterly unique and my own. But I know one thing: for me, it feels fucking amazing!

  • Girl on the net says:

    Extra entry (submitted via email) by Anon:

    Bringing myself to an orgasm is something that I can do in seconds. A few quick rubs, and a tiny orgasm builds up and suddenly there’s a release of pressure and tension that I didn’t know existed. It’s almost like when you get a really good massage therapist, one who rids you of knots you didn’t realise were there. Except these balls of tension built up in my lower back, in my thighs. I get tense and suddenly – poof! – a release.

    I’ve been sexually active since I was around 18 or 19 but only recently, at 26, had my first orgasm with a partner. The difference between a self-induced orgasm and one with a partner is…. you can’t compare them. The orgasm comes when I’m riding him, nearly every time. That’s the position that almost guarantees it (I) will come – and I can tell almost right away that it will happen. It starts simple. A bit of pressure that feels like I’m being filled. A slow back and forth sensation as my hips move, grasping for the right rhythm and knowing I am about to hit it.

    Suddenly, I get the right angle, the right rhythm, and that’s it. My entire body starts to get the chills, starting in my lower belly and radiating both upwards and downwards. I clench – hard – and the chills multiply. The chills turn into feelings of waves, coursing through my body and making me feel simultaneously hot and cold. The pressure and the back and forth sensation become focal points as I can’t keep track of the waves.

    Usually my toes cramp and I feel myself struggling to keep the rhythm. Not because of the toes – because the waves and chills feel so damn good that I can’t concentrate on keeping it going. I no longer feel like myself, but rather like something primal. Grabbing for that feeling to continue but knowing that I might soon be distracted by my exhaustion. The chills extend to my fingers, and once my hands start grabbing for things – anything – to hold on to, I know subconsciously that I’m about to have an orgasm. My clenching and my breathing both become rapid and less rhythmic. The noises coming out of my mouth can barely be called human – the grunting, the gasping, the nonsensical attempts at forming words… I lose all sense of caring for anything other than the explosion I’m about to feel.

    And when that explosion hits, it hits hard. It hits in my thighs, my lower back, my belly, my clit. It feels like firecrackers combined with the best sort of back scratch there is.

    And afterwards, my head needs a few minutes to stop turning. I’m in a fog as my body tenses then relaxes then tenses then relaxes again and again while I’m coming off this orgasmic high. I move on autopilot as I breathe and try to see through the haze. Above all, there’s a sense of amazement I can’t get over – a sense of, just by doing these things and moving that way and clenching this and rotating that, we can make my body feel that way.

    • I found myself relating to so much. But for me, orgasm where I am on top is almost nonexistent, because once it starts to feel good, I lose all rhythm when I get caught in the moment, hence ruining my own orgasm.

  • Bubbleburst says:

    When he makes me cum my hands shake. Thats what he likes to focus on after the withering and growling. After my world has become very big and suddenly very small. My hands shake, like proper tremors you can feel right through me. Like every exhausted muscle and nerve ending it cramping and celebrating. Im not good with words but when I cum what does it feel like? Like something too important, too everything to do justice with words. I will never be able to explain how the build up makes me feel like im moving towards something so needed I cant breath without it, I will never do justice with words like tightening and pressure when its so much more incredibly mind blowing. How the world disappears and then crashes deafeningly around you. So how do I feel? I dont know but after, if it was to powerful to put into words, my hands shake.

  • Ian says:

    as concise as I can make it:

    It’s like a slowly building, but perfectly pleasant, pressure. Something inside that makes me more sensitive, that makes every movement filled with a little more joy, and in amongst that an urge for something more: to increase the pressure, to keep increasing it, with each increase feeling better and better, until you reach the point where the only thing that would feel better than holding this delicious pleasure is releasing it. In that moment of release it’s like a whole body and mind exhalation. When it’s good, when it’s really good, when you’ve pushed that pressure up and up enough for long enough, it can leave you so drained that your brain needs to reboot. Afterwards you are emotionally as well as physically limp. Sensitive, too, as every movement is in the sense memory of that moment.

  • Rory says:

    This has to have been the most depressing comment thread I’ve read… … I think I must be doing it severely wrong, because it’s never felt a fraction as good for me as the descriptions above.

    • nutella says:

      I feel the same, this reminds me of being 16 and everyone saying that when you first have sex it’s magical, like fireworks, but when you actually get round to doing it you feel cheated like WHAT IS THAT IT?!

      • Girl on the net says:

        Can either of you describe yours for the thread? If it’s that different, it’d be really interesting to hear what it is like.

        • Rory says:

          For me, it’s a lot of pleasure during the act. The feel of tightness, wetness, the smell and heat that build up together. And of course the raw pleasure of each nerve being rubbed the right way.

          But coming itself… it’s like everything has been getting better and better, like when you turn the music up louder and louder and you can hear every subtle movement, every light note, every instrument… but it’s like you’ve been steadily turning it up until you slip and it all goes up to far too fast, and it’s just a shock and too much… and it’s kind of pleasurable but just blows your ear drums out until you’re just left with your ears ringing.

          Kind of like that. It has it’s own quirks and sensation to it, but it lasts a brief moment, leaves me shivering, and simply unable to continue.

  • My husband and I started a sex blog in December and we post on alternative days. If you want to read the full post of my partner describing a male orgasm go to AngelaGoodnight.com. The following, however, is the meat of Peter’s description:

    Once I am finally ensconced inside her, the heat is overwhelmingly beautiful and the tender rubbing of my penis along her vagina has to be one of the very best feelings in the world. Every single stroke is important and fantastic to sense. One problem for us men when making love is that our ladies require continual motion and stimulation to get the best experience and being a thoughtful lover I try to keep moving by rocking back and forth interspersed with the more intense (for me) thrusting. So some of the time my penis is moving just an inch or two as I rock my body back and forth against her, and other times the thrusts are the full length of her vagina from her entrance to the absolute furthest I can reach, kept as slow and steady as I can. Not too slow, of course, otherwise she might go off the boil. Once every two seconds seems to be about the slowest necessary to keep her ‘on the edge’.

    If I were concentrating purely on my own pleasure I would dearly love to just stop and lie still within her for minutes on end, interspersing that with thrusting and rocking, but the still periods would mean that any stimulation of her clitoris, labia and G-spot would have stopped and that could only be described as a selfish act. A woman is never going to remain close to orgasm if there is no motion. Unfortunately, keeping the motion going is always going to cause an earlier orgasm for a man if he can’t stop occasionally. Thinking of Angela’s experience I try to never stop the motions even for a few seconds so as I get closer, the proportion of time spent rocking my body increases so that my orgasm can be delayed. Actually the rocking stimulates the glans of her clitoris more than the thrusting so it is extremely rewarding for her, so it allows you to use the rocking as a respite to allow the growing desire to orgasm to diminish a little for you, while maintaining the tension for her.

    Nevertheless, sooner or later the build up of sensation begins to lead to a desire to climax. I always ask Angela if she is ready. If she says she is not quite there then I continue the rocking (despite my anguish to climax) and, if I am becoming really desperate, I place my fingers between my pubic bone and her clitoris to add extra pressure there.

    Throughout the build to climax, I try desperately hard to keep my motions at a consistent speed and just deepen and lengthen the thrusts. As the end approaches my whole penis is glowing with the heat of the experience. Feelings within it are so intense it almost makes you want to cry and it grows and grows until you know the end is nigh. Nothing is more important than that astonishing feeling. It is literally breathtaking. It doesn’t matter what else is happening when it begins, whether it is her fingers cupping my testes, her hands and fingers caressing my face, arms, buttocks and back. None of it is important. In those final seconds I cannot even feel what she is doing nor hear what she is saying. Sometimes a desperate kiss is added and this swamps any remaining conscious control I might still retain. My entire being is concentrated on that vital six inches of my body and if accompanied by a passionate kiss I am totally wasted.

    If I have been able to keep my thrusts slow and deep Angela will often have had another orgasm and if it happens when I am close to the point of no return then those are our most wonderful mutual orgasms. Her rhythmic contractions are just the icing on the cake as regards my own climax. In those last seconds the explosive awareness of what is about to take place fills my whole being from deep within my body to the very tip of my glans and then my orgasm arrives. Those first three contractions are the most intense and are followed by a further four to ten involuntary ejaculatory events.

    Don’t give me this three seconds bullshit [Angela note: this is a reference to another website, see the post for full details], with the type of lovemaking I have described my orgasm lasts at least ten seconds and sometimes up to fifteen seconds. Often Angela will come just before (best) or a second or so after I start and although her orgasms usually outlast mine, it is not by much if I’ve got it right.

    I often then just lie deep inside her, sometimes rocking tenderly and using my pelvic muscles to create manual contractions, forcing every last drop of my essence into her and, on at least two or three occasions, I have managed to give her a further orgasm just from my conscious contractions and squeezes. Extra orgasms from the rocking are a regular occurrence, but less violent and shorter. You could describe them as pleasant unexpected surprises for getting everything perfectly right. We both delight in those, of course, they feel wonderful for me even if they do try to eject me. I push in when they begin to stop that happening.

    Throughout this I am in seventh heaven and we will lie like this as long as we possibly can, so scissors is the position of choice for both of us if we are after a lengthy event. We can remain within this post coital embrace for many minutes, sometimes over half an hour if I’ve used Viagra, until my erection starts to lose its potency and we fall apart and either lie side by side holding and caressing each other or I pull her into my arms and we keep a cuddling embrace for as long as it feels right. Being retired, we often make love in the afternoon and I’ve known us still cuddling after sex for an hour or more with sessions regularly over two hours long. The closeness is so wonderful for both of us and Angela digs me in the ribs if she thinks I’m slipping into sleep. I don’t mind because the awareness of each other is the most beautiful part of our intense, overpowering love.

    Now THAT is what a man can experience during orgasm and although the peak can be counted at ten to fifteen seconds, the vestiges of the orgasm last many, many minutes. Angela’s afterglow can continue for several hours and mine for as long as we lie together. I’ve known Angie saying that she still has a glow in her vulva more than six hours after we’ve made love. I wish I could have a similar experience, but once I get up it is finished for me. I believe that could have something to do with men being the hunter gatherers and needing to change their alert status when leaving to hunt. Just a theory.

    For the record, the tingly electric contractions he mentions [Angela note: again see the original post] do happen during the best orgasms, both Angela’s and my legs have been known to jerk and kick a tiny, tiny amount at the height of the orgasm completely involuntarily, literally as if receiving minute electric shocks.

    Angela again: I’m not sure if GirlOnTheNet allows direct links, but this will take you to Peter’s original post:
    http://wp.me/p4bMUU-21

    I’m also going to put up some of my post on an all-body g-spot orgasm shortly, but I’ll post this one first.

  • This is part of a post on my own site from my first lesbian experience many years ago. The orgasm which resulted was the finest I ever had and Peter and I have been trying to reproduce it without full success ever since. I’ll put the link at the end of the piece so you can read the full version on my site.

    I was dead to the world when I felt the bed move. Lin Lin, crying once more, was sliding into my bed. I put out my arm and she nuzzled into me and I held her close. It actually felt really nice having a warm body lying next to mine as I’d not had a boyfriend for a while.

    What happened next put my head into a spin, though. She was on my left and I felt her left leg slide across mine. What should I do? She was upset enough as it was without me pushing her away. Surely this couldn’t be sexual? Surely it was only for comfort and sympathy?

    The answer came shortly afterwards when I felt her hand running up my thigh, across my hip, where it hesitated briefly over my mons, before descending to my vulva. Was this really happening? Yes. What should I do? I tried to analyse my options, but it was difficult because it felt good. I wasn’t a lesbian. Why did Lin Lin feel so good lying close to me like this?

    Her hand lay over my vulva which was under my nightdress so there was at least some material between us, but the barrier soon came under threat. I felt her fingers gradually pulling up my nightdress. It was quite a long one so there was plenty of it, but it soon became clear she was intent upon lifting it clear of my genitals. Should I say stop now? Should I remove her hand and continue the sympathetic cuddle? Did I want to remove her hand? It felt good. I did nothing. It was the easiest option.

    Eventually the exploring fingers reached the hem of my nightie and suddenly her fingers were resting on my hood. I didn’t move. I was still in shock. Her hand began to rock up and down and the stimulation aroused me instantly. But she was a woman. This wasn’t a man touching me, it was another woman. I felt her try to push further between my legs and it gave me a decision to make. There was no doubt I was enjoying it. I was definitely aroused. It felt good, not bad. I parted my legs and her fingers eased their way between my outer lips. My God, I thought, it really does feel good.

    Now she could tell I was aroused. My clitoris was on fire and I could feel her fingers moving easily within my inner labia so there must be plenty of lubrication and it was now feeling even better, but she stopped.

    Her hand was gone and she began to climb onto me. Her thighs against mine, her thighs between mine, her hand cupped my breast, I sensed my nipple jumping to immediate attention as her hair draped over my head and her warm soft, succulent lips were experiencing mine.

    It was so good. It was so different. Her skin was so soft, her lips so sensuous, her hands so gentle and tender upon my breast and on to my neck, cheeks and in my hair. The kiss stopped. I didn’t want it to stop and I kissed her back, hard, vigorous and I pushed my tongue between her lips where it met hers in a delightfully tangled and moist embrace. Wow, I couldn’t believe this was happening to me.

    She sat astride me and I lifted the spare nightie I’d loaned her off her body and caressed her breasts, teasing her nipples to erectness. I lifted my right thigh to force it against her vulva and she lay down upon me again and the kisses recommenced, more passionate, wetter and so, so lovely.

    “I don’t know what to do,” I whispered, the first words either of us had spoken.

    She pushed the duvet off us and removed my nightdress. Now we were both naked and embraced each other again face to face, thighs moving over and between the other’s, trying to make contact with each other’s vulvas. My thigh could now feel she was wet, too as she rubbed herself against me. I did the same to her.

    She moved again and sat to one side of me and her hand was between my legs once more, rubbing my vestibule quite hard as only a girl could know you can do. Pressure and hard movements against my clit, too and there was suddenly a finger inside me, then two, then three. Oh my God, this was fabulous. It was too good for me even to move, but I put my hand on her vulva and squeezed gently.

    What on earth was she doing now? I was still lying on my back with my legs spread and knees bent and she had her three fingers buried deep within me and she started a rapid lifting movement. It was noisy, too. I was squelching as she went faster and faster, not in and out, but up and down and her fingertips were tight against my G-spot. I could feel the tension building extremely rapidly. It was rushing me. An orgasm, the like of which I have never had before, hit me like a steam locomotive. My whole lower body started jumping around and my legs kicking out as the orgasm squeezed those delightful fingers. A girl’s fingers. Wow. As I came she stopped the rapid movements and continued with gentle caressing of my whole vulva. She slid down the bed and her tongue hit my clitoris.

    I had barely finished my G-spot orgasm as she began pressing really hard with her tongue, side to side against my clit. It couldn’t be happening. This was too, too much. I couldn’t take any more. I heard myself crying out. I was totally wasted, yet the heat in my clit was still growing as it did deep within my vulva and God, I knew I was going to come again and this time my clit seemed to explode with contractions and I felt myself squirt straight into her face. She slid up my body and we kissed and I licked my own ejaculate off her cheeks, nose, lips and eyelids. She looked down at me and we both gave each other the most lovely and satisfied smiles.

    Two orgasms in fewer than five minutes and I’d done nothing for her.

    I slid down the bed and eased her up my body until her vulva was on my face and I began tonguing her clitoris as she’d done mine. Five minutes passed. I had no idea it was such hard work and I knew I mustn’t let her down so kept the rhythm steady and put up with the ache in my tongue. Ten minutes. Could I keep going. I was struggling.

    She whispered, “That’s lovely Ang, keep going, keep going,” and louder, “keep going, now!” and I felt her come. Her contractions massaged my lips, chin and nose and she collapsed off me sideways, lying exhausted until she’d finished coming. I quickly slid a finger inside her to feel her coming. It was so special and intimate.

    I turned over and clambered onto her, lying between her legs, and kissing and stroking and loving her lips and face. I felt one of her legs push between my thighs and I couldn’t help but rub myself against her thigh, building to another clit orgasm. Not as strong, but delightful and so exciting. I collapsed upon her as the contractions wracked my vagina.

    “Oh, God, Lin Lin. I don’t know what to say. It was beautiful.”

    She kissed me back and we lay in a tender embrace sideways, face to face, each with a hand on the other’s vulva, each slowly stimulating the other.

    I got up, picked up the duvet and pulled it over us. We enjoyed the embrace right through until morning and when I awoke I found her hand still between my legs and mine on her breast. What a wonderfully intimate experience.

    The link to the full item: http://wp.me/p4bMUU-49

  • I’ve commented a couple of times on this subject already. Orgasms tend to come up quite a lot on our blog, but then it is a sex blog so not unexpected. My partner suggested my latest story about sex while we were staying at my mother’s house might be of interest owing to its description of my orgasm that night. Anyone interested will find it here: http://wp.me/p4bMUU-AE

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