Firsts: The Orgasms

“The pleasure of living and the pleasure of orgasm are identical. Extreme orgasm anxiety forms the basis of the general fear of life”.

Willhelm Reich

Men cum and that’s it for a while. Women can cum and cum with multiple delights.
A first orgasm is similar. A man can remember with infinite ease his first orgasm because it happens so resolutely, so obviously. A woman, on the other hand, might have a series of experiences that make up her first orgasm. In its multiplicity, please be aware, there is no dilution.

I offer nothing but a cliché.

Like the other children, I queued up in the corridor that led to the cold hall. Equipment was swung into position, groups were falsely made and whistles were blown to allow us to use the instrument that had been ascribed to us.
I waited patiently to get to the ropes, climbing rather too enthusiastically to the top and just staying there. I actually had rope burn between my thighs for the majority of my last year in primary school.
It was the most sensational feeling. I can distinctly remember feeling as though I was going to pee but the sensation was far more exciting than the mere act of pissing. It was a burning sensation that was free from pain and full of warmth that had no comparative; not then, not now.

I clung on for my life in the vain hope that this incredible sensation could last as long as possible. Once it had stopped I edged my way down the rope only to realise that I needed that sensation once more. Half way down the rope, I changed directions and clambered back up, holding the climatic position once more, feeling the girth of the rope between my thighs, waiting for the feeling to overwhelm me once more as though someone was pumping passion between my legs.

What is particularly interesting about all of this is the bizarre instinct that I shouldn’t actually mention this to anybody, that what I was feeling between my legs which was originating from that region but overwhelming and exciting my entire being, was something that I should not discuss with other people.
Where did that idea come from? Why did I automatically assume that I could not get down from the ropes and share this joyous experience with others? Nobody had directed me not to talk of such things. Or had they subconsciously slipped that into my psyche?

As it happened, I did tell someone. I told my best friend. We were inseparable. We shared everything. We had other friends but they were not significant. So I told my friend. I explained to her that she really ought to get up the ropes and feel that funny sensation if she clasped the rope tight between her legs.
The next week, she did it too and there we were, the two of us stuck at the top of a school hall rope, sharing our pleasurable orgasms, not saying anything, not laughing or talking, just sitting there as one would in view of a perfect vista that led your soul to another place.

At the time, I didn’t know anything at all about my nether regions. I knew that I peed from there but that was about it. I’m not sure whether I even knew that babies came out of there and I certainly didn’t know that something had to be out up there in order to make the babies.
What I also didn’t know was that, as a woman, I had this spot called the clitoris and it was the pressure upon this that was creating this warm, slightly burning sensation that was so damn appealing.

A few years ago, I had an argument with a school leader about the clitoris. We should not be telling girls that they have a clitoris, she said. If we told them about it, they would be down their knickers in a flash, feeling around for it and seeing whether they could get it to respond to their touches.
I wanted to tell her that I had discovered the joys of orgasms before I ever knew a clitoris existed, pointing out the knowledge of the biological existence of the thing would make no difference to an eleven year olds desire to explore. A girl could explore and could feel without the basic knowledge.

I rather approve of the fact that I experienced the orgasm before even having the knowledge.

Women’s orgasms are so different from men’s though and one assumes that the first orgasm is different too.

With boys and young men who have an orgasm for the first time, there is a distinct and definite acknowledgement of what has happened because you can physically see the white sticky stuff that is oozing out of your cock. Also, nowadays, through the most marginal improvements in sex education, boys know what is actually happening to their bodies. They are, in some cases, prepared for it. The slightly more enlightened sex educators actually mention masturbation. They certainly explain wet dreams and tell these young men about the production of sperm and the physical need to get rid of some of it in a perfectly natural way, either consciously through wanking or subconsciously through it seeping out in their sleep.

Young women do not have this. They do not have their orgasms explained because half the world seems to be under the impression that there is no such thing as a vaginal orgasm and they are non-too-happy about trying to explain the purpose of the clitoral climax as it appears to have no function in reproduction. Therefore, they cannot possibly explain either to young women. To illustrate this point, here is a quote that I discovered about vaginal orgasms.

“Some hundreds of the women in our study and many thousands of the patients of certain clinicians have been much disturbed by their failure to accomplish this biological impossibility”.

How appalling is that. Unsurprisingly, this quote is not given a name reference.

Of course, in this writing, I have made a fatal mistake in calling the female orgasm a “burning sensation”. It really is not quite like that. Cystitis is a burning sensation and yet there is the making of some similarity.
That sounds terrible! As though orgasms are painful. Believe me, they are not.
But evidently something physical happens to the pussy when stimulated. If you care to look, the pussy actually swells up and becomes engorged in exactly the same way a cock does. It creates a pressure and a tightness. The swelling is the beginning of the orgasm.
Cystitis is a swelling but a painful one. Orgasms are the opposite end of the swelling spectrum, giving immense pleasure and fulfilment.

The reason I am mentioning this is because that bruising sensation that you get when your cunt is beginning to swell is precisely the feeling that I remember when I was a young woman exploring my sexuality. In hindsight, I can see this as the development of my orgasmic life but it is only now, having experienced orgasms on a regular basis that I can return to this time in my life, through this writing and reflect on where my orgasms originated.
So although my first physical orgasm with assistance from a third party (i.e. the rope in the school hall) happened as described, in joyous female terms, there were seconds and thirds and fourths all moreorless at the same time, which I would like to explain now.

I knew that feeling then, of something between your legs making you feel very juicy and excited. I wanted to hold on to that feeling, knowing that it would dissipate within a relatively short time but I soon realised that I could get it back relatively quickly.
In some ways it is a little disappointing that my first orgasm is shared with an inanimate object but it is the truth.

However, there was much sharing at the same age that created other orgasmic sensations.
The first was looking at things that we felt we should not be looking at.

In the village, there was a lay by where the lorries turned into for a rest. Sometimes, they would spend the night there before setting off the following day to complete their delivery. In order to entertain themselves, they bought their magazines full of naked women who were showing their voluptuous tits, and they entertained some local girls too, judging by the discarded condoms found about the place.
The girls, neither the real ones nor the magazine variety, were not going to be shared with their wives or girlfriends so evidence of them had to be got rid of too. Hence, at the back of the lay by there was a mass of girly magazines and used johnnies.

My friend lived over the road from the lay be; a few houses down. When we were eleven, she took us over to the lay-by one day after school. Her older brother had shown her what was there, and she took delight in being the big girl who knew everything.
Tentatively we wandered over the road and walked around, oblivious to what we were about to be shown. Finally, we made our way to the ditch behind the off-road and this girl showed us this sexy secret.

I remember being shocked and a little intimidated by the supposed illegitimacy of the situation but at the same time utterly compelled to have a look. I’m not sure that I had ever seen real tits before. I certainly hadn’t seen pussy and I can distinctly remember seeing a brunette with a big hairy bush opening her legs for the world to see.
I was aroused. I obviously didn’t know at the time but looking back now I can see the immense pleasure that these photographs were giving me, and feeling quite guilty about wanting to see more.
I had that swollen feeling, as though I wanted to piss, yet it was more pleasurable than the feeling of a full bladder. There was a warmth and a sensual fullness that cannot really be described as there really is not anything comparable. Instinctively, I wanted to just press down on there, as though to hold that brilliant pressure there, forever.

I’m not sure whether the other girls felt it. There were about five of us and I do not know if they felt the same. There was giggles and laughter but I am not sure that they felt it the way I did. All I could think of was that feeling that I got with the ropes and how peculiar it was that looking at a picture of a naked woman had had such a similar effect.

This growing acknowledgement of sexuality continued as a friend who lived down my road insisted one day in sharing her moments of puberty with me.
We were talking about growing up and moving on, and for the life of me, I cannot remember how we got to the situation but soon, we were in her bathroom and she was showing me what was happening to her body. She had pubic hair, and quite a considerable amount of it being very dark herself.
I remember as she pulled down her panties and revealed this mass of darkness where I had nothing whatsoever even though I was slightly older than her. She then went on to show me her budding boobs as her nipples darkened and expanded.

All this innocent and perfectly usual behaviour was a complete turn on for me. Again, I was gloriously oblivious at the time but as the years have gone by, I can now attribute these remembered physical and emotional reactions to the personal knowledge of female orgasms I have now.

More orgasms came and went with pillows stuffed between my legs and surreptitious viewing in the PE changing room.

All of these orgasms happened before I got anywhere near someone from the opposite sex, before I had had any sort of penetrative sex but that does not take anything away from their importance and significance. In retrospect, had I looked at these incidents more carefully earlier on in life, I would have accepted and appreciated just how instinctively sexual I was, and would not have spent so many years in a sexual wilderness.

More sexual firsts to come.