Orgasms

Orgasms… I read on other people’s blogs… how one is never enough… how that first one just leaves them on edge and they must have that second, third or fourth.  Talk of multiples and squirting… and I begin to feel jealous.

I used to be able to come more than once.  A long time ago… a really long time ago.  My sexuality changed profoundly when I went through menopause.  And I went through menopause fifteen years ago.  Back then, my body felt different.  I had a very low libido… I did not like having sex… but when I did, orgasms were easy and multiple and very much taken for granted.  I think I wrote once in a story… a piece of fiction that had not strayed too far from reality… “she would orgasm, odd little electric convulsive jerks that she could hardly feel.  They never involved more than the few square inches of flesh that was her vagina.  She did not enjoy them, beyond the happy knowledge that it was over.”

I am well aware that a great deal of that angst, that lack of libido and enjoyment had to do with cracks in the relationship… barely hidden hostility and rage… but now, looking back at the ease and grace my body would respond, even in the face of all that hostility and rage, I regret… I regret not appreciating what I had.

When menopause was at its worst, orgasms weren’t an issue… penetration was.  I swear the vagina grew shut.  Every time we had intercourse, it felt like I was being stabbed with knives… it hurt like all fucking hell.  I would clench my teeth and beg both god and him to hurry up and finish.  Not the most romantic of responses.  And when he came if felt like someone had poured boiling acid up my cooch.  I was not surprised that is was stained pink with blood as it leaked back out of me.  When I confessed these things to my husband, he started to avoid sex.  A few days stretched to a few weeks and then a few months.  I think the longest we went was eighteen months. 

Yes, yes… I went to the doctor.  Yes, I tried hormone replacement pills… did not work.  Tried estrogen creams… gross, nasty, thick, sticky white stuff that I was supposed to put up there every day.  Shudder… it was like a permanent vaginal infection, with a strange medicine odor.  Doctor said… “Use it or lose it.”… the fact that sex was becoming increasingly infrequent was obviously not helping.  But again, strangely… even when it hurt like a fucker, I still orgasmed… never was an issue… but the libido?  One had sex… almost because I felt like I was supposed to, not because I wanted to.  Husband rarely initiated… and I almost forgot how to.  It was almost like I had forgotten about sex.

Happily, while it may last years, menopause does eventually end, like an engine running on the last fumes of gas, the machinery coughs and sputters… dies and then when you think it is finally over, finally well and truly dead, it roars back to life once or twice and then stops. 

I think my deepest fear, prior to menopause and then during it… was somehow the hormonal roulette wheel would finally tick… tick… tick… and finally stop with the pointer permanently frozen on some zone on the cycle… some zone like raving psycho bitch or sexless, rusted shut pussy.

But the pointer did not stop anywhere I expected… anywhere I had ever been before.  When I finally got off the roller coaster ride that was hormonal cycles, the departure gate led into a part of the amusement park that is off limits before.  A raving psycho bitch can make an occasional appearance, but it is not the same one that would take over my body before.  And the pussy??? She seemed to make a complete recovery.  Not rusted shut… in fact… perhaps a bit over lubricated at times.  The libido is back… really back… I am a bit like a teen aged boy… everything can be interpreted sexually, eroticized, turn me on.  There are days I just want to hump the furniture. 

But I want to lodge a formal complaint with the roller coaster company.  There needs to be a sign at that magic departure gate… “Some riders may experience changes in sexual responsiveness.”

“SOME CHANGES????”  So here it is.  I am horny.  I am very horny.  I become very aroused very easily.  I can get so turned on I am afraid my head may explode.  But all those easy, multiple orgasms… those ones I did not enjoy all that much???  They seemed to have been left on the roller coaster. 

I can come.  But it is not easy.  It takes a LOT of work.  It takes a long time.  It takes concentration and focus and commitment… It is like labor and giving birth.  The good news is the orgasms have changed… they are completely different.  When I get there (if I get there) they are HUGE.  They are epic.  Once they get started, they can keep going… and going… and going.  They are definitely worth the work.  And I only get one.  Once it is over… it is over.  The amusement park is closed. 

So here I am wondering… if this exchange of easy, multiple yet unimpressive orgasms for these difficult but amazingly epic singles is a good thing or a bad thing?  Dunno… don’t know if it matters… I doubt I have any more control over this than I did over the roller coaster.  It is all a ride… I guess I should just sit back and enjoy myself.