Why Dont You Come When I F*ck You?

Biology is a pissy mother fucker, and so are guys who live and breathe for the vaginal orgasm in their woman that never, well, comes.

In my biology text book when I was fourteen, it told how most women under the age of twenty-two cant have vaginal orgasms during sex because of the fact that the nerves havnt fully developed in their genitals. Though it also said that clitoral orgasm can be possible as early as age nine in females. I also found, that this is why women should go to a Pediatrician versus a general practice doctor until that time. Interesting? Yes. Shocking? Yes. Sexy? No.

Kyle was a really nice guy and the youngest guy I had ever fucked since my very first time. I was amazed that I was actually attracted to him, that I actually wanted his hands on me. For me, a guy of twenty was very young, still is very young. I never felt that consuming passion when we had sex, when he touched me or bit me. In fact, I always felt like giggling when I was intimate with him. It was like the High School boyfriend that I never wanted, it was truly cute. We fucked plenty of times, in every which angle, on every conceivable piece of furniture, in every way a woman can be fucked but - no orgasm. Sure, if he licked me down, I could get there, I could go well beyond getting there and come like a little baby, crying out and panting. But when he fucked me? No dice. This would be distressing if I always came when a guy fucked me, but I have never had an orgasm by cock-stimulation alone.

My idea, and my boyfriend's, is that Im waiting for my soulmate. I may not be a true virgin, but my body is a virgin to the true orgasm all women live for. That hard and pulsing one that originates from deep inside, from a woman's true place. But until then, I continue to frustrate men to no end.

Sure, Kyle could get me to come around his cock if he rubbed my clit when he took me from behind, whispering dirty phrases in my ear, hissing his lust into my mind. One day after fucking me for more than an hour, and "still no cigar", he flopped off of me and over onto his back and started whining,

"Why don't you come when I fuck you? Its like this nightmare; fucking and fucking and fucking and it never ends."

His voice was like that of a kindergardener, sad, frustrated and needy.

"I thought, that would be any man's dream."

I told him dejectedly, I then sighed and twirled my hair in my fingers.

I was remembering a comedy act by Margaret Cho in which she explains a similar situation. Her man is complaining of the same coital dysfunction: "Why don't you come when I fuck you?". Her to-the-point answer is "Because...I can't come when you fuck me.", her voice very childlike and forlorn.

It's as simple as that, damn it. I cant come when you fuck me!

It seems very BDSM-esque, but I get fulfillment from when a guy whose fucking me comes hard and deep and I'm just filled by him. I love it. Maybe that's a bit co-dependent of me, but I love when a guy orgasms so hard inside of me that he cant open his eyes for a few minutes. I love to be held on to like its life or death and feeling their last moments, their final release. I'm OK with not coming during sex, just take care of me, touch me, lick me, finger me, bite me, make me come that way. I don't mind, I just want to have a good time. I just want you to enjoy it too, I loved to be fucked: orgasm or not.

Kyle just couldn't handle it, it was like I had to spoon-feed him platitudes just to keep him from complaining. Wouldn't most men just die of happiness from not having to try to make a woman come? Wouldn't they just like to be able to be selfish for once? I'm very lucky to have found, for the most part, very attentive, very passionate lovers who were very concerned for me, my pussy and my orgasms.

Sadly for Kyle though, our dream-like near-High School-esque relationship ended and he moved away, never having to deal with my non-orgasming pussy ever again. Perhaps it was best for us both, because the only whiny babies I can handle are my little baby sisters.

Ive had numerous talks with my boyfriend on the topic of orgasms, sex and my vaginal maturity. At eighteen, I'm still apparently four years from realizing my orgasmic potential. It doesn't keep us from dreaming that our love making will awaken something because we're still holding onto the soul mate hope. Maybe true love can wake my sleeping orgasm? Maybe true passion and his genuine unselfish nature and overflowing passion can open me up to him and my possibility.

Until then, I can't come when you fuck me, damn it. +Sigh+

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