Em and Lo are cute as hell, and brilliant to boot. That is how we like our ladies, and celebrating a month dedicated to climaxing–democratically, both alone and with a partner–is how we like to spend our time. Coincidentally, Em & Lo have declared the month of April, full of feverish springtime feelings and the sap running hot and fast in our pants, to be Orgasm Month.
I approve of orgasms the way I approve of puppies, and rainbows, candy and kittens and flowers and democracy and shiny things and cheeseburgers and unicorns and feather pillows and doing it a lot. Orgasms and doing it a lot go together especially well, don’t you think? And if you don’t think so and you’re not Weird Tantric Sting, then you are doing it wrong, and you deserve better.
The first time I ever had an orgasm, I was pretty young, and I remember
thinking it was so nice, and then wondering if I had done something
wrong, and just knew that it was something I should probably hide, and
not talk about, because my body was supposed to be a private thing. As
I grew up and gained weight, it seemed essential that my body be even
more private, and the idea of touching myself and feeling good about my
body and letting it feel good was completely foreign, and masturbation
felt wrong, and made me feel guilty, weird, uncomfortable.
What got me over that, made me a fan of porn, and orgasms and sex and your general, all-around happy nakedness? I wish I had a definitive answer for you–being lucky enough to land in bed with someone
who loved my body and knew exactly how to make me climax; realizing
that sex is one of the best things on earth, that it is a fundamental
human principle, a driving force, a need, a requirement, a super-extra-duper bonus for being so totally evolved. I approve of sex, and I
approve especially of orgasms, however they are produced–alone, with a
partner, with a toy, with a partner who’s got a toy, with hands and
faces and fruit. However it happens. Have a whole month of them, and