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As it turned out, Johnny would visit Jill’s room off and on during the following weeks. And that strange woman that left the Belmont’s room brought along another woman, and on occasion, he’d catch her on her way down the steps and invite her into his room, although she’d had preferred ‘Jill,’ so she said.
Tasma was not aware of most of this, but a little. Also, she had received at this time several letters from home by her parents, in particular her father, but she did not respond back. She was not certain what to say, she loved them, and Jill assured them she was fine, but it was too stressful for her to talk or write them. She did have a profound desire to please her father, and wishful thinking to please her mother, but it seemed she needed to learn how to please herself first, and to Jill, she did not blame them for anything, not anymore anyway. And had she started a communicational dialogue, they may have persuaded her to return, the one thing she did not want at this time.
—Jill was in the kitchen—the ironing board was pulled out from an inner-cabinet built into the wall, a wall-unite if you will, it was kept snugly in, in which there was a door attached to it; Jill was ironing Tommy and Johnny’s cloths, another lover circle had stared. Both were arranged in separate piles. Mrs. Belmont was sitting at the table talking seriously to her; it was most unusual thought Tasma, for seldom did she see Mrs. Belmont other than at the bar talking to Jill. As Tasma neared them to join them, the subject—whatever it was—changed, and what appeared on Mrs. Belmont’s face was an un-cheerful smile, not unusual, but quite sudden, and it was apparent. Consequently, feeling a little awkward she left the kitchen to work on her diary-novel (some poems), in the living room in her usual spot; in effect, she could overhear bits and pieces now of their conversation. It didn’t occur to her to get up and leave, rather the opposite; she actually pretended to be busy writing and was simply drawing a picture undiscernibly.
“It’s been going on for a while mom, I didn’t think it was, I mean it would end up like this.”
“Get rid of him, or all of them.”
“No, no, I don’t think Johnny will go so easy. He likes me, and thinks he can have me, and he has me of course.”
“What about Tommy?”
“I like him, I like him a lot, but that’s the problem, I don’t love him, I just like him.”
“He’s what you need though. He’s more anchored.”
[With scorn] “What the hell does anchored mean!” said Jill.
“Ok, ok, I could have used a better term, Tommy likes to work and go to school, he’ll be somebody someday.”
“Tommy doesn’t pay you a dime; Johnny does and Johnny works hard.”
“Yes, he works hard all right, hard at drinking, screwing you and god knows who else—smoking that weed.”
“So Tommy was screwing me and working.”
“You’re going to lose him to that cousin of yours if you don’t hang on to him.”
“Tasma,” she looked at Tasma reading, “you got to be kidding, she’s as naďve as a sparrow.”
“So you say: does a pineapple come from a pine tree?”
“No,” said Jill apprehensive, “now what does that mean?”
“She’s not the little girl she was three, four months ago, or is it five or more? She has a good shape, and pretty face, and if Tommy can’t see it, I can. And so can a lot of men at the bar. Anyhow, Tasma is not the issue, Johnny and Tommy are.”
(A long pause came, then with a cracking voice, and an almost whisper, she leaned over to her mother, and Tasma leaned over the arm of her chair): “I think I’m pregnant…”
“Ay caramba,” she said in a sigh that slurred all the way to Tasma’s ears, “…now what?”
“It’s Johnny’s, not Tommy’s, Tommy uses a rubber, and Johnny thinks it is not manly to do so.” It was momentarily hard for Jill to look her mother in the face; she was at this time, pacing the floor in a small circle as her mother followed her with her eyes.
“Listen Jill, Johnny’s drinking with all the gang members at the bar, and he’s gambling, it’s just a matter of time before he gets in trouble with them.” (Some of the gang members had motorcycles, others cars, it was somewhat an unofficial bunch of criminals, in that they were but twenty of them that hung out at a number of bars).
23 Shan’t be a Minute
Tasma found herself walking upstairs to her room, it was quieter in the kitchen, and figured, she had heard enough, a voice said, “Where are you going?” it was Jill, polite but to the point.
“Shan’t be a moment,” was her answer. She wanted to tuck away her diary-novel, she had written some exposing things in it. And so she tucked away, under her pillow, as if it was safe, and her place was off limits to others, which in presumption it seemed to be. For the most part, she did not want to leave it laying about for someone to pick up accidentally.
Life had seemed uncomplicated she thought, and now with Jill’s mother it seemed somewhat speculative, if not downright disjointed. It had now crossed her mind Tommy would find out the secret, the secret being Johnny’s behavior and her being pregnant, or so she said she was, and ‘I know about it,’ she felt as if she was a betrayer, be it to Jill or Tommy, or even Johnny. Down the stairway, into the living room she went. She looked outside through the bay-window and there was Mrs. Alice Whitehead getting into the car, she looked at Tasma, Tasma waved at her, she was a nice old lady, and it always seemed to her she had concern on her face for her.
As she turned around looking towards the kitchen she noticed Mrs. Belmont sorting out bills: ‘I suppose she’s done talking to Jill now,’ was her thinking.
“I talked to your mother a few days ago Tasma, she’s doing well and I told her likewise, you were doing well.” Tasma simply made a polite gesture, no verbal adjectives.
“I want to do something today, a surprise, come with me,” asked Tasma, for some odd reason something had popped into her head.
“What, may I ask, is on that devious mind of yours?” laughed Jill.
—Tasma and Jill were gone for several hours, and arrived back home at about 6:00 PM. Johnny and Tommy were sitting in the living room watching TV. As they both walked into the house, both the boys were somewhat taken back a bit at Tasma’s appearance—if not down right, star-struck. Her long reddish hair was cut to where it reached only the nape of her neck. And she was wearing more makeup than she had before, the result: she looked a little fresher and less school-girlish, than before. Thought Tommy, ‘…before she seemed more delicate and fragile..,’ as he glanced at the poise she displayed as she smiled and stood in the middle of the room awaiting the verdict of the two young throbbing hearts, the heart breakers themselves. Johnny noticed her slender bones, and her nicely shaped neck was more defined (front and back). Tommy for some reason noticed her neatly-set breasts, small as they were—just above her small waist they were a hand full no more. Yet her slyness somewhat removed, still left her with a harmless effect. Her nervousness was repressed for the most part.
Along with all that, with all the money she had saved up, she also purchased some bath salts, talcum powder and a small mirror, which she duplicated for Jill as a gift for allowing her to stay. She had spent her $100-dollars she had saved.
For some odd reason, Tasma had glanced back into the kitchen, expecting to see Mrs. Belmont, but of course was not surprised when she was not there, she usually would go to the bar around this time, either she had missed her, or she was in her room preparing to go. The boys looked at one another in jest, and laughed.
Said Johnny with his normal side joking way, “So now you’ve grown up, welcome to the real world kid, looks like you’re willing to join us.”
Tasma knew Johnny’s ways and knew that was better left alone.
“It makes you feel good,” commented Jill; meaning spending money on oneself for preservation purposes, or simply for a change in one’s life. But there was concern in Jill’s unseen eyes, in her cerebellum. She was no psychologist, like Skinner or Pavlov with his salivating dogs (who worked on association), but the boys were kind of salivating, restlessly slobbering might be a better way of putting it, if not downright uneasy, with this new Tasma look.
Everyone had gone to bed now, it was Jill’s turn to sit downstairs in the sofa-chair for once, wondering, thinking, not sure of her next move. ‘I just don’t get it,’ she asked herself, ‘why am I so attracted to Johnny, and going with Tommy? Tasma wouldn’t have the answer even if I asked her, nor mom, facts are facts, feelings are feelings, I don’t sense they are neither right or wrong, they just are. Johnny makes love as if he was a mad man and seems almost barbaric, and I think of him when I make love to Tommy—it’s just unthinkable. I wonder how Tommy’s new book will turn out. Can you love two people at once, at one time? A good question; I think I do, or maybe it is lust, how do I know, I’m just…(pause) will be nineteen in a month. Mom said: love is a choice. I say love is a feeling. I wonder what Tasma would say. I know Tommy feels love through his penis, like Johnny, all men do, kind of, sort of—most of the time; but Tommy is more willing to be dedicated, I think. I have learned men are attracted by looking, but I like touch.’
On her way to her bedroom, she stopped at Tasma’s room, knocked lightly, “Can I come in just for a moment?” she asked.
“Why sure you can,” answered Tasma with a thoughtful voice.
“I had a great day with you today, and thanks again for the things you bought me (this was a good lead-in she thought to bait her for a question to be soon asked), but I have a question, somehow I think you’re going to oversimplify the answer but I’ll ask it anyhow. How do you know if you’re in love with a person?”
Surprisingly, Tasma answered Jill with foreknowledge, “You mean you are having a hard time trying to figure who you want, Tommy or Johnny?”
(A tight look went over Jill’s face.) “Yes, yes, that is where I’m coming from; I didn’t know it was so obvious.”
“It’s becoming obvious Jill, it was the first day Johnny came through the door, and it has progressively taken a greater shape to it. But in regards to your answer, I’ve never been in love so I might be the wrong person to ask, but I do know this, as simple as it may be: if I wanted to go out with Johnny, I couldn’t be in love with Tommy—that much. I mean, I’d think whoever you were in love with—you’d not want to go out with anyone else; you’d kind of want to stop shopping around for another person, or so I believe. If I was to get married, I’d not want to go out with anyone else: and if I did, I’d know that I was not ready for marriage, to him or anyone, if that makes any sense.”
But to Jill it made all the sense in the world. She was sleeping with Tommy at night, and wanted to be with Johnny.
“What do you think I should do?” asked Jill.
“I think you already know; I don’t think I need to say anymore. My heart is with you, no matter what the outcome is.” Then Tasma hugged her tightly.
24 Reset
As the next two weeks passed a kind of silence took over the house, people talked less to one another, I suppose you could say, Jill was the life of the house, and now she was deep in thought. Everyone tried to keep busy and pretend things were normal, but they of course knew they were not. The Belmont’s kept their normal schedule, and the pretense lingered.
Tasma had finished up with Tommy’s book on San Francisco, and had explained to him how she liked the ending of ‘Bustling,’ by his fake name Colleen Grant; she commented to Tommy: “The younger woman fell in love with the older man, but she had psychological issues, and she was too fragile for him to care for her emotional illness, and he was too sick biologically for her to care for him. It was a sad ending I thought, but had they married: love would not have been enough, as they wished, they’d both had ruined the life of the other. Yet they remained friends as they parted, matter of fact they remained friends until he died at the age of eighty-years old, and her, at eighty-two.” She then read a poem she was working on for him: “I haven’t put it in my book or diary yet, but here it is I’ll read it to you from the paper (Tommy sat inquisitively on the edge of her bed):
The Maiden from Seattle
When she walked into the light The door to life, grew black as
Night, And her earth began to swell
(This youthful beauty of Seattle);
At first glance— Fell this youth from high Aching to touch the morning sky.
Who dare take this maiden’s hand? To help her though this silent land! Ah! From hair, to heart, to breast:
Like faded flowers in the ground Fleshless alms, could not be found, And so she remains—bound!
Said Tommy in surprise, “I like it, I think a little or maybe a lot of you is in the poem; I think you’re going to be a Mrs. Plath, or Dickinson some day.”
—The following day Tommy had come into Tasma’s room unexpectantly, “Are you still writing your story?” he asked.
She looked at Tommy, “Just some poems, and dairy notes, really haven’t gotten into the plot or theme of anything in particular yet; not sure how to get it going.”
“Let me see, maybe I can help you” he said. Yet Tasma was still bewildered of his rudeness to just kind of enter at will; she liked him and didn’t want to scare him away, on the other hand, she was not going to join any love-circle.
She leaped quickly to her pillow, then it dawned on her, she had much information in it about Johnny, Jill, Tommy and, none other but the: The Lady in Black, as she referred to her in the diary. But had she not jumped, she thought afterwards, had she not jumped she’d had not given away her hiding place, although it was no vault for sure—I mean, a mouse could have found it had it looked for it.
“I, I have too many personal things in it, private things, I’d rather you not see,” said Tasma as she currently held the book in the middle of her chest; as she got off the bed with her one knee, fully turning about now, she tripped on her shoe and the book fell, Tommy quickly grabbed it and opened it. Tasma saw him reading it, and needed to do something quick, she grabbed it out of his hands and jumped on the bed, her dress flying above her waist showing her underwear and all.
Somehow Tommy found the child in him, and jumped on her bed trying to grab the diary from her as they rolled around in the bed; now Tommy hovering over her, his legs between hers.
“What are you two up to?” questioned a voice in the background, it was Jill: she had heard the ruckus.
“My fault, I was trying to get her diary from her, I started to read something quite interesting,” he looked at Jill halfheartedly. Had he gone back any farther, thought Tasma: The Lady in Black was there.
Jill looked at Tasma in an indefatigably way, “I see I wasn’t invited to the party—”and slipped off to her bedroom where she just looked out the window aimlessly. In a way it didn’t bother her about what she’d seen, but on the other hand, she was jealous. When Tommy left the bedroom to join Jill he didn’t know whose child it was; he had only read up to ‘I overheard her say to her mother she was pregnant today by….” He could not ask Tasma to betray Jill, it would be too much to ask, if anything, Jill might be betraying him, it was indicative of her.
—In the following days, Tasma noticed Tommy and Jill fought quite a lot; and Tommy was not a person to be irritated easily, it must be that she was leading Tommy to believe it could be his child, Tasma thought. Then one evening she noticed Tommy sleeping on the coach, and Johnny still remaining in his bedroom.
During this interval, Johnny entertained himself in his bedroom, hoping Tommy and Jill would sort things out—thus he remained in kind of a queue, waiting for Jill’s signal to return, somehow he had come to that conclusion she would. He found himself pacing the floor at night, saying, ‘I wish, whatsitsname, would…’ and never ended the sentence.
—I must make this awkward at this point, his mind broke off the subject of Jill and Tommy after the first week, his insides became external. He looked at himself, pretending he was not feeling this serge; he had not guessed at this until it engulfed him, there was stern on his face—and, toil in his hand. A cold shower might work he thought, but it was too far away. He felt he was on a fast run; he hardened his body like a weightlifter, a boxer ready to take a punch.
This lasted two weeks, finally an agreement came about, Jill would sleep with Johnny, and Tommy would sleep in Johnny’s room, and in due time Tommy would have to leave, approximately in a few months, considering once she started to show it would only provoke issues within the household, or so she felt. The real problem was that Johnny did not have the heart to tell Jill he liked the way things were, and he really liked Lorie to a higher degree. He wanted his sex, but could find it elsewhere if need be, now he’d have to resort to living in her bedroom, and his alone time would be altered. In addition, Lorie was somewhat out of the picture for he had not seen her in weeks as he waited for this all to settle, but he’d see her again is what he was planning. Again, everything seemed in the air now. But to resist the plan would be too premature at the moment he deliberated out.
In spite of the tension, things appeared to move about on a regular base for a few more weeks. However, Johnny was starting to hang out with the gang more often now, with their motorcycles, and customized old cars. He was doing a lot more drinking and gambling with the gang members. They had even stopped on a few occasions at Jill’s house looking for Johnny, taking pains to find him, going out of their way it would seem. It came to her attention; Johnny owed them money, how much it wasn’t said (but it was close to $6,000-dollars). They’d not go to his work; it was one thing the groups forbid: that being, to endanger a man’s livelihood was not being a man at all. They could do almost anything else, even kill you, but not jeopardize your job: that was considered a low blow.
Out of nervousness, Tasma started to keep her distance from the group at the bar, if she could, she would have vanished into thin air.
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Sexual desire is one of the most essential and indispensable part and the most beautiful of our life. It is really very hard to hold back the desire of having sex. But there are many times when conditions do not support man for having sexual intercourse. One such condition is when the person is suffering from the problem called ‘erectile dysfunction’. This quote of ‘18 till I die’ has become a target for almost all men above forty suffering from erectile dysfunction or ED. And why not so! This is the age when the hormones are on their edge all the time and there is no problem whatsoever in doing what you want whether it is getting an erection or having sex with someone. But as the age passes, things also start to show their weaknesses.
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Viagra comes under the class of drug called phosphodiesterase inhibitors, it controls and blocks an enzyme called phosphodiesterase-5 (pde-5), and helps the smooth muscles in the penis to get relaxed and widen, and that permits additional blood to run to the penis ensuing in faster and easier erection. Scientifically speaking, viagra which is an oral therapy for ED, is the citrate salt of sildenafil, which is a selective inhibitor of cyclic guanosine monophosphate-specific phosphodiesterase type 5 (pde5). Sildenafil is the main component of viagra, which blocks the activity of an enzyme, called phosphodiesterase type 5 (pde5), which is active in multiple tissues and cells. The effects of pde5 inhibition include improved production of nitric oxide, which is linked with enhanced functioning of the heart and blood vessels.
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Women's capacity for orgasm is awesome. They can come over and over again, and still be ready for more! This capacity seems almost limitless. They can experience clitoral orgasms, g-spot orgasms, vaginal orgasms, ejaculatory orgasms, blended orgasms, and not only one but multiples of any of these! They've even been blessed with a body part, the clitoris, whose only purpose is sexual pleasure. This may all seem a bit unfair to men who typically reach a precipice, fall over the edge, roll over and go to sleep!
Why is it then that so many women are frustrated rather than satisfied? Why is it that for so many loving couples, the female orgasm remains an elusive dream; one in which she's perhaps become resigned to sex that's pleasurable but not truly satisfying, or even worse, faking it to salvage her partner's ego. If it is really bad perhaps she fakes orgasm just to get the sexual ordeal over with! Or he sadly wonders: What's wrong with me? Why can't I make her come despite stiff fingers and aching tongue? His sexual self-esteem is wounded, and he secretly feels less of a man believing he has failed her.
The first step on the path to freeing a woman's orgasm is for both men and women to understand that men do not give women orgasms. Women allow themselves to have orgasms. Despite popular belief, no matter how good a lover you may be, unless your partner can give herself up to the pleasures of her body, she won't have orgasms. This realization alone can open the door to women becoming orgasmic. It takes the pressure to "perform" off of men, and it frees women to take responsibility for their own sexual fulfillment.
This is very important. If your woman is blaming you, and you may also be blaming yourself for her not having orgasms, it is quite possible, even likely, that you are both looking in the wrong place to solve the problem. Mind you, an unskilled, selfish, or insensitive male lover can be a real problem, and at the very least is certainly a dull bore. And to say that a woman is responsible for her own sexual fulfillment does not mean you revert to a slam-bam-thank-you-ma'am approach to sex and let her fend for herself. After all, the more skilled and attentive a lover is the more pleasure he himself receives, and although you can't give her an orgasm you certainly can help her to have one, or even lots of them. So even though it's not entirely up to you, there is something you can do to help.
The biggest barrier to orgasm for women is mental distraction - thoughts that float into her mind, catching her in her head, and taking her away from what's going on in her body. As soon as she starts thinking, she is out of the moment and will lose touch with her senses and her pleasure. Some of these thoughts may trigger feelings of shame or guilt about experiencing sexual pleasure, for no matter how liberated our attitudes toward sex seem to have become, there yet exists the perception that "good" girls don't! Even today women are divided into categories of "virgin" or "whore". Those who engage lustily in the delights of the body are somehow morally questionable. You can help your delectable partner move beyond these pleasure stifling attitudes by letting her know how much you respect, admire and cherish her fully female sensual self. Tell her often, especially when you're making love, that it thoroughly turns you on to see her let loose the passionate side of her nature.
This is not always easy for men to do. They may have internalized an unconscious conditioning that leads them to accept the rather misogynist belief that women can't be good and pure, and also be fantastic lovers. If they believe this, they are placing themselves in a very unfortunate situation. This belief system inevitably leads to the man selecting one woman for a partner, spouse and mother, and a different partner for an affair or mistress. Adultery is about the only option left to a man who holds such a belief system. The resulting deceit and lying force a separation between the couple and the relationship ends soon enough, for example in breaking up or divorce. In this scenario, the man is at fault and the solution does lie with him. Only a change in his beliefs will solve this problem.
Sexual abuse is a horror and curse that is unbelievably common in our society. Women that have been sexually abused often have great difficulty in allowing themselves to trust their lover, let go into the sensual moment, and surrender to sexual ecstasy. If your lady is having difficulty experiencing orgasm; if you are a reasonably skilled lover; and if you have communicated to her that you honestly wish her to fully awaken as a sexual partner, then the problem could be some psychological damage from sexual abuse. Ask her about this with the greatest tenderness and caring that you are capable of. Be aware that many women actually blame themselves for their own sexual abuse, so this can be the touchiest of all possible subjects for discussion. If sexual abuse is an issue, it is advisable to encourage her to seek professional counseling or some other form of help.
Besides worrying about whether they are "bad" if they really enjoy and want sex "a lot", many women worry about enjoying sex the right way. They worry about how they look, smell and taste. They worry that the cellulite in their upper thighs or the slight bulge of tummy fat may quiver unattractively. They worry about being "clean down there". They worry about how long it takes to reach climax, how much time their man has to spend stroking, licking, and caressing to help them fly over the mountain. All of these thoughts take them out of lovemaking. To help her stay in the pleasures of her body tell her with words and sounds and looks that you adore her, you love to devour her with your tongue, you could keep on touching her forever, it's a delight to you to give her pleasure. And mean it, because if you haven't learned how to enjoy pleasuring your partner, pretty soon you won't have one!
Once she's able to relax into the joys of lovemaking and focus on the exquisite sensations her body can feel rather than listening to the demon distractors her mind can conjure up, a woman's path to orgasm is much clearer. With particular loving skills of your own you can assist her to break that path wide open.
Most men enjoy having their genitals touched at any time, whether they're sexually aroused or not. This isn't usually the case with women. Think of the vagina as a "potential" opening, a magical door that will happily open wide to receive you, but only after you've called ahead to ensure your welcome. Be certain she's eager for your genital explorations by focusing loving attention on other parts of her body first - lots of kissing, neck nuzzling, tender strokes on back, shoulders and arms, then adoring caresses of her breasts. Only after you sense she's ready, through signs like rapid breathing, flushed skin, hardened nipples or enticing moans should you move to her vagina. Once your hand or mouth is at her sweet honey pot begin to explore it from the outside inward - outer lips, clitoris, inner lips, vaginal canal.
Generally women reach orgasm most easily through clitoral stimulation. The clitoris is extremely sensitive to touch of all kinds. Often the head of the clitoris, the pointed tip, is too sensitive for much direct pressure, so focus your attention on the sides. Touch around the clitoris instead of right on it, at least until her level of excitement increases. The skin tissue of your fingers is not nearly as sensitive as the tissue around her clitoris. But the tissue of your mouth and tongue is an almost perfect match in sensitivity. Unless you are more highly skilled in using your fingers, it is a much safer way to start by using your mouth for oral stimulation of the clitoris. Experiment with different pressures, strokes and speeds. Ask her which ones she likes best. A good way to do this is to try two different touches, then ask her if she likes "a" or "b" better.
If she's willing, invite her to masturbate for you so you can learn exactly how she likes to be touched. Many women are shy to do this at first but with some gentle encouragement she may really show her wanton self. It can be a great turn-on for both of you. Many men are actually quite frightened by a woman who is fully sexually awakened. They may doubt their own ability as a man to keep up, or to be able to perform adequately. They may fear that if she is too much woman sexually for him, that she may go elsewhere and find what she wants. It may help you to overcome this fear if you remember that you are not responsible for giving your lady sexual satisfaction. She must do that for herself. But if this fear is very strong, you may seek counseling help to deal with it.
When you do find a particular stroke or caress that is really driving her wild, keep doing it and keep doing it and keep doing it. Don't change anything about it. Don't go faster, slower, softer, harder, or switch direction. Keep doing exactly the same thing until she lets you know she wants a change either through words or body movement. This holds true whether you're pleasuring her clitorally or vaginally with your fingers or your mouth. Keep going even if your hands or mouth get really tired!
It's a good idea to wait until she is very aroused before entering her vagina either with your fingers or your penis. Generally if she's not wet, she's not ready. It's as simple as that. If your lover doesn't have a lot of natural vaginal juices even when she is fully aroused be sure to use a good silicone or water-based lubricant. Nothing can be a quicker turn-off than rough, dry skin rubbing on soft vaginal tissues. Water-based or silicone lubricant is better because oil can clog the sensitive vaginal tissue.
The most sensitive part of a woman's vaginal canal is the first inch to two inches. It's here that most of the nerve endings are located, so when you first enter her concentrate most of your attention there. The elusive g-spot can usually be found in this general area, on the top of the vaginal wall, a couple of inches in. Imagine a glass lying on the floor. If you reach your first two fingers into the glass at the top, i.e., toward the ceiling rather than the bottom towards the floor, you should find it. It is difficult to reach the g-spot through intercourse, so you will find it much easier with you fingers than with your penis. There are also some interesting dildos and vibrators with just the right shape to reach the G-spot. Move your index finger or your first two fingers in a "come hither" motion (as if you were asking someone from across the room to come over to where you are) and gently stroke her. When you touch her g-spot you may notice a more bumpy or raised area of skin, but you may not. The best way to know you've found this highly intense love spot is by her reaction. Where you look is not quite as important as when you look. Unless she is excited through and through, perhaps from a clitoral orgasm beforehand, it can be difficult to find the g-spot.
Stimulation of the g-spot can produce extraordinarily intense orgasms. As a woman is approaching a g-spot orgasm she may feel she has to urinate. This may immediately cause her to tighten up, stop, and pull back from the edge of bliss. If she can stay relaxed and keep going through that "have-to-pee" sensation it will pass and move on into deep waves of sexual delight. The woman should urinate before intercourse begins, so she can be more confident that the feeling that she has to urinate is a misleading feeling and can be safely ignored.
For most women it is difficult to reach a climax through intercourse alone. This is because the sensitive clitoris isn't easily stimulated just by thrusting motions; the g-spot is difficult to reach with even a fully erect penis; and because often the male partner goes over the edge into ejaculatory orgasm before the woman has had enough action to bring her to the heights. If you touch her clitoris before and during intercourse, and if you've pleasured her vaginally by touching the g-spot with your fingers, the chances are much better that she will have a deep vaginal orgasm while your penis is inside her.
Learn the strokes that turn her on. Tell her how fabulous it is that she's sensual and sexual. Let her know you adore her body and love to touch and kiss it for hours. Help her forget about trying to make orgasm happen and focus instead on thoroughly enjoying every moment of lovemaking. If you awaken your multi-orgasmic woman you are going to like it!
