The Clitorati
Jean started something over at You Are Here. She's put out a call for recipes for orgasm and showed us her own boat, floating on a sea of hot sauce. Sage responded beautifully with a tried and true, step-by-step kitchen table post about what rocks her world in a big "O" way. (Yeah, it's porn. Yeah, it's great!) Kristin offered her place up as the test kitchen, though I question her motivations.
I don't have a fabulous recipe to offer you, especially after Sage set the bar so damned high. But I have a tale to relate.
I've banned myself from Eros Blog. Damned shame, too, because I enjoyed it a lot. But I got myself caught up in a little comments war, got a little misunderstood, more than a little snarky and have left it behind forever.
Bacchus posted a picture of a broken sex doll. Well, I don't really know if the whole doll exists or if it's only the genetalia, thighs and buttocks as shown in the picture. I made a comment about the clitoris, wondering at the necessity of it for the purpose of the doll. (Bacchus rightly pointed out that many people have a strong visual aspect to their sexuality, which is true.)
The snark came in when a man (I make the assumption of youth here) felt the need to point out to me that a fake clit may be used for "practice," along with an admonition to remember that good sex is reciprocal. Hence, the snark.
Reading Sage's post has brought complete clarity to my argument in those comments...that "practicing" on clitoral stimulation was absolutely useless in the absence of immediate feedback from ones female partner. You've got to pay attention to the woman attached to the clit, folks! Otherwise, it's an exercise in futility.
Note what is the main ingredient found in Sage's recipe:3 cups attention to reactions displayed verbally, facially, and physically; the attention should typically be silent except for the first few times running through the recipe
I rest my case. This ingredient is more prominent than the penis (which is ::gasp:: absent from the list of ingredients), more plentiful than the two hands, one tongue or two cups warm breath. It's the attention to a woman's response that makes the difference and that should be, in good sex (with the big "O" as a goal), preeminent. (Before you jump all over me, yes, there are other kinds of enjoyment in sex but this post and the cited posts on other blogs are related to women / clitorii / orgasms.)
The other thing that bothered me about the doll was the unreal prominence of the clit. C'mon. I've seen a lot of vulvas. That picture does not represent the vast majority of clits in the world (at least the world as I've known it, working in women's health care for 17 years). If you need a visual aspect to get your rocks off, why can't it be an accurate representation of what real women really look like?
So, Cheryl's recipe for orgasm, as giver or recipient...pay at least as much attention to the woman behind (or above or below or along side of) the clit you are addressing because that's where the clues are.
And...that's where the payoff is, too!
(Casual aside: I hope to muster the motivation to go to the shore today which means I'll be pretty much incomputicado for a few days. Back to work in less than a week...I need me some beach, yeah!)
tags: clitoris / cult of the penis / orgasm / recipes / sex / sexuality
posted by Cheryl @ 12:16 PM
6 Comments:
Yep, yep, and yep.
I don't know... the practice thing. Alas... what will he say to the woman that is not pleased with his technique? "But the real doll liked it!" Yeesh.
Good one, Cheryl. Have fun at the shore!
Thanks, Jean! And thanks for the impetus!
Oh, and I'm not quite getting the Random Zen connection this time...is Minnesota full of squirrels or trees or sex? Or all of the above?
The Zen: 75% more abstraction. This one was weird, admittedly.
The picture has a sort of O'Keefeness to it, and actually, I passed up a 'Strangers with Candy' clitoris reference in favor of Goofy Dude pointing at a conspicuous spot in a tree knot. That picture just cracked me up. Now, the link... more specific than Minnesota. Paul Bunyan.
Everything aligns, somehow, someway. By the time I retire, a map of the Zen will hold the keys to existence. Natty Boh and Blue Oxes. Must be.
Oooo...I might have to go on a search for Strangers with Candy. Thanks for the tip. ; )
Oh, so the hole's the thing? Paul Bunyan and the hole?
Wow! Maybe someday I'll be as obscure as you, Jean! I'll keep plugging away at it!
I'm glad that part of the recipe stood out for you. I can't imagine sex without it. (Well, of course I can, but why would I want to.)
"But the real doll liked it!"
snort
I can't imagine sex without it either, which doesn't mean I haven't had that kind of sex in the past...I just don't want any more in the future!
Jean is the shit, isn't she?
Off to the shore now...
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