I want you to come in my cunt. I want to feel the twitches of your dick and the rush of liquid pouring out of it. And I really can feel it, you know. Hard. Especially when you’ve got a raging erection and plenty of spunk to give, the release as you pump it deep inside me is the most delicious feeling. I want you to come in my cunt. I want it so much that sometimes I’ll fake orgasms to make it happen.
I love an orgasm as much as the next person. There are few things in life more satisfying than when we both come at the same time – that rush of achievement and togetherness combines with the waves of pressure rolling up my body and through my chest. It feels so good I want to lie back and drown in it.
But let’s not lose sight of my primary goal: I want you to come in my cunt.
A fuck ends, for me, when you come. We can unpack this belief if you like, though it’s painful for me and I don’t come out of it well. In the abstract I know that sex shouldn’t be purely about his pleasure, that this is a harmful idea perpetuated by a society that thinks the male (read: cis male) orgasm is of paramount importance. A society which heavily implies – through porn, TV, films, books, articles about fucking and relationships – that a woman’s orgasm is a nice bonus. I’m a cis woman who fucks a cis man, so the story I’ve been told is that my orgasm is the support act: your spunk is the headliner.
All of this is wrong. So wrong.
But knowing it’s wrong doesn’t stem my desire: I want you to come in my cunt.
I want this much more than I want to come myself. On a scale of importance measured from 1-10, my orgasm during penetrative sex is about a 4, yours is a 9. And I only hold back that final point because I know there are some days you can’t, and I don’t want you to feel like you’ve failed if it doesn’t happen. We still had fun fucking, after all. But given the choice between you coming in my cunt and me having an orgasm, I would go for the former. Every. Single. Time.
More, because I love weird hypothetical questions: if you held me at gunpoint and made me choose between orgasming every time we fucked but leaving you frustrated, or vice versa, I’d sign away my climax in a heartbeat. Then I’d ask why you’d bothered with the gun, because you could probably just have asked me over coffee.
After you’d come in my cunt.
Are our orgasms equally important?
I want you to come in my cunt. I want it more than I want to orgasm myself.
Does this arrangement of priorities make me a bad person? It definitely makes me something. Perhaps a parody of all the things I’m meant to be railing against on this here blog. I’m advocating for sexual pleasure, after all. Pointing out that women – shock! – can also love sex. We can pursue our own pleasure with a sense of purpose, entitlement and even aggression – we’re not passive receptacles for your sexual desire, we have needs and desires and kinks of our very own. So if I say I don’t care about coming I’m really letting myself down. Worse – in wanting his orgasm more than my own, I’m setting a poor example for the women who come – or rather don’t come – after me. I should insist on my orgasm not just for my pleasure, but as a teaching point for the man I am fucking.
I know all of this. I feel some of this. I can hold it in my mind and know it’s true, and recognise where I succeed in spreading this message, where I fail to articulate it, and how I could do better to advocate for it in future.
But all that is rational, and rational thought goes up in flames when it meets desire: my desire for you to come inside my cunt.
Is it bad to fake orgasms to make your partner come?
Sometimes I fake orgasms. And I’ve written on this a bit before – why faking orgasms doesn’t have to be the end of the world. But I wasn’t fully truthful in that post. I talked about different reasons why someone might want to fake, and why ‘never fake orgasms’ is a tricky order to comply with. But I didn’t tell you the full, unvarnished truth: the vast majority of the time I fake orgasms, I do it because I want you to come in my cunt.
It’s not about tiredness or being bored or not enjoying sex and wanting it to end: it’s because I love that specific bit of sex. It is my favourite, favourite part. If I’m not going to come, I could struggle on for a while, giving instructions or ideas or hints or asking if I can grab one of my sex toys. But often when that happens the atmosphere changes. The spark fades. What was a pleasure becomes a chore. And at that point I know I’ve killed my chances to see what I want to see and feel what I want to feel.
Let me feel the throbbing twitch of your cock as you squirt inside me. Let me see your fucking face twisted in blessed relief. Let me squeeze you until you groan, until every atom of every inch of my cunt is hugging the life out of your dick. Let me milk the last drops from you with deliberate spasms. Let me stay focused and calm to absorb every detail.
I want you to come in my cunt.
Not functionally, when you’re exhausted and disappointed that you haven’t given me mine. I want you to come passionately. Happily. Triumphantly. It is hotter for me if you come when you think I’m coming: when the ripple of my cunt milks the jizz from your aching cock. It is hotter for me to feel and watch you doing this than it is for me to have mine.
I can – and do – wank. A lot. And much of what I wank about involves fantasising about that moment when you tip over the edge into coming – when you just can’t fucking help yourself. That is what I want. Not a measured orgasm, held back and dampened for ages while you stand in the queue behind me: I want you to come in my cunt, at the exact moment when it feels good and right for you to do so. That is what I get off on. If we’re fucking and I’m not going to come, and I sense that slight increase in speed/filth/enthusiasm that tells me you really want to, I will sometimes pretend along with you. Not because I want it to finish, because the finish is what I really want.
Fake orgasms and kink
Does that make me a terrible person? Maybe. It’s certainly deceptive – to pretend that I’m getting this kind of pleasure when in fact I’m getting that. But I don’t know how else to explain that this thing – you coming in my cunt – is not pleasureless. It is not boring. It is specifically, directly, and precisely my kink.
And while that might mean I set a bad example, in which I’m reinforcing the trash idea that sex is all about cis male pleasure (it’s not), I’d argue that it comes from the exact same place. I fetishise his orgasm because that is what I’ve been taught to do. Buried somewhere deep in my heart and my brain and my cunt is my actual sexual desire – the kernel of kink that reflects what I truly want. But this kink has been nurtured, filtered, explored and enjoyed in a society that has influenced me too, so it’s impossible to know how many of my turn-ons would exist in a world that was genuinely free. Am I into this because I instinctively like it, or am I into this because I’ve been told I should be? I don’t know. But I do know that my body and brain respond with more joy and satisfaction when I see you come than when I come. That is just the way that it is.
It doesn’t mean that’s true for everyone, of course. It’s certainly not true for all women. Don’t go taking this article and sharing it round as proof that society’s right and our orgasms are unnecessary: this post is brought to you by the letter ‘I’. ‘I’ as in ‘me.’ ‘I’ as in ‘this is a very personal feeling and I do not expect you to experience it too.’
‘I’ as in ‘I want you to come in my cunt.’
This doesn’t mean I never come, or never want to. And it certainly doesn’t mean that people who do want to come – who demand orgasm equality and that their partner spends time on ensuring they get their climax – are wrong or bad.While I take umbrage at articles that argue fake orgasms ‘detract from my experience’ (who are you to tell me what my experience is?), it’s laudable to educate people about pleasure, and make sure they know that their partner should care about theirs. The people who say this are, in every way that matters, right.
But seeing as we’re exploring this in depth, I’d hazard a guess that their rightness is partly why I get off on this: knowing that it’s fairer if both of us have an orgasm makes it hotter for me when I don’t. Double hot for abjectly-submissive me if I know that he’s coming at exactly the moment he wants to, without stopping to check if I’ve had my turn. Triple hot for the girl who grew up thinking boys didn’t like her, to realise that this boy likes her so much he cannot hold in his spunk.
That’s another weird belief, right there: that guys spunking into or onto me is proof that I am loveable and worthy – ewwwww I am gross and horrible and bad. I know this isn’t true. I also know that I feel more loveable and worthy if guys want to spunk in me. If we genuinely believe – as I really, truly do – that our media and discourse perpetuates damaging ideas about sex, then we also need to believe that some of us have internalised those harmful messages. As we need to accept that ‘every body is worthy’ is true in theory but in practice doesn’t cure us all of the physical hang-ups we’ve been nurturing for years. These ideas wouldn’t be damaging if they were easy to shake off. Some of us will kick back against them, others will fetishise them, and some of us (like me!) will try to do both: explain that sex doesn’t have to be about cis male orgasm, while also admitting that sometimes, yeah, that’s the main reason I hopped into bed.
I want you to come in my cunt. And you can tell me till you’re blue in the face that I should demand orgasms, or that I’m ‘teaching you bad habits’ if I pretend to come when I’m not. I’ll nod along till my neck is sore, and I’ll also feel waves of guilt about the fact that just by doing this thing, I am letting you down. And not just you but all the other women you might sleep with, most of whom will rightly demand orgasms of their own.
But not every fuck is a teachable moment. Not all fake orgasms are done out of boredom or tiredness or to stroke your fucking ego.
Sometimes I just want to feel you come inside my cunt.