ConstantCommentary® Vol. XI, No. 170, December 16, 2010



The myth of the female orgasm

(To celebrate the spirit of giving this holiday season, I decided to repost one of my more popular columns below. An old friend has been begging me to send him a copy for nearly a decade, and even though I'd like to continue down the path of rejection and disappointment I've cultivated lo these many years, my resistances have been weakened by his loyalty.

So... back by popular demand, "The myth of the female orgasm." I just do and do and do for you people.)

The myth of the female orgasm

Women's orgasms are something men take on faith, like belief in God. We think there's something out there, but damn if we can prove it.

Truth is, we never really know--especially since we saw the restaurant scene from "When Harry Met Sally." For all we know, all women's orgasms could be acting jobs; there's just no proof. No gushers, no ejaculate, no evidence.

Sure, every once in a while someone testifies to the existence of women's orgasms (YES! YES! YES!). We feel a tremble, see the eyes roll, and hear the speaking of tongues, but do we really know? Of course not. Despite all the antics, alone late at night she may be thinking, "Fooled the fucker again."

And we wonder why there's no intimacy anymore.

Women's orgasms are like UFO sightings. Until the 1950s, hardly anyone reported them. Now, nearly everyone's claimed to have seen something in the sky. But does that mean UFOs exist? No. The history of women's orgasms follows the same pattern: nothing much till the 50s, peaking in the 70s, waning a bit in the early 80s, rediscovered with the G spot in the late 80s, and still controversial in the 90s.

Of course, most men take a philosophic view of the whole orgasmic consciousness--I came, therefore I'm done. Scientific debate aside, women's orgasms really only come in two varieties: Younger women's and older women's.

Younger women

Remember the opening scene of Mark Twain's book Tom Sawyer? As you recall, Tom and Huck and the boys have a date to meet at the old cemetery to conjure a magical cure for warts. Everything has to be just so. The meeting must take place precisely at midnight. Intricate incantations are recited. A dead cat must be rubbed on the offending growths at just the right time and the rubbing has to be exactly the right speed, pressure and direction.

That's pretty much what it takes to make a young woman come.

If a young woman has ever orgasmed before, she knows exactly how it happened and believes it must happen exactly the same way. And it wasn't by simple intercourse, you can count on that. Oral sex, maybe. Finger manipulation, likely.

In addition, environmental factors must be taken into consideration, such as time of day, lighting, aftershave applied, ovulation cycle, type of music on the stereo and the right number of drinks. You get the picture, don't you Huck?

Many younger women like to downplay the orgasm. "It's just not that important to me," she says. Or she'll swear she only wants the intimacy of the sexual embrace, and when you ask her if she's orgasmed, she says: "Just hold me, okay?"

Pay attention to this, she's doing you a favor. What she's really saying is: "Give it up, you don't have a chance. You'd have an easier time sucking milk from a woolly pig than getting any reaction from me."

All of this is great news to a young man, since he's already come three or four times and is sick of trying. But it's terrible news to an older man since our best orgasms are behind us. Where once stood majestic Roman candles--strong and mighty, ready to blow at any second--now hang sawed-off squirt guns. So we turn to the oooobabies, ahhhhhs and yes-yes-yesses of a woman's orgasm in a vain attempt to recapture our lost youth.

Fortunately, it works. Besides, we never really believe young women orgasm anyway. After a young woman's orgasm, we may applaud her, compliment her, commiserate with her, laugh with her or cry with her, but we sure as hell don't believe her. Whether the orgasm's real or rehearsed is not the question. Young women aren't convincing, not like the...

Older women

For the sake of definition, just what is an older woman? Hard to say. Could be as young as a 28, but definitely a woman 35 or older. Same as men, after you add ten years.

We know a sexy older woman when we meet one. She knows how to please a man and be pleased by him. She has that gut level urgency, that oh-my-God-the-time-is-running-out-on-my-biological-clock hysterical pelvic thrust that demands hot sperm NOW.

Her body will short-circuit any political or sociological biases that may roam like thugs through her brain. She may think, "All men are pigs." But that thought is soon replaced by, "I need hard dick, now."  So pig dick it is. With a mind fuelled by guilt and desire, and a body fired with biological intensity, she becomes an orgasmic furnace, ready to take on all comers.

I have to go to the bathroom now, but I'll be right back.

Of course, if she is no longer fertile, then she is a dedicated orgasmitron and likely to fuck your brains out just on principle. You can't lose with older women. Whether an older woman orgasms or merely fakes it is of no consequence whatsoever. We believe them. We do, we do, we do.

And why not? If there really is any such thing as women's orgasms, then she has been conditioned to receiving pleasure for years. But what if she's only faking it? Who cares? After all those years of rehearsing, she's so damn good at faking it's exciting anyway.

I knew one woman who performed with ear splitting believability. She was a screamer. I could always tell when she came because the police would be at the door. Her performance featured well-placed moans, serpentine shudders, holy roller trembles and screams worthy of shark-attack victims.

To this day, I don't know if her orgasms were real or faked. To this day, I don't care.

How to make any woman orgasm

It all comes down to four magic words. I've tried it all: oral stimulation, finger manipulation, donkey fucking and dildoes. Nothing works with 100 percent accuracy except the four magic words. "Baby, masturbate for me."

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STANDARD DISCLAIMER: This column aims to be funny. If you can read anything else into it, you're on your own.




Mike Jasper is a writer and musician living in Austin, Texas.

Originally from the San Francisco Bay Area, he claims strong ties to Seattle, St. Petersburg, Florida and North Platte, Nebraska.


© 2010 by Mike Jasper, All Rights Reserved. ConstantCommentary® is published whenever Mike Jasper feels like it. All material is the responsibility of the author.