[4.5 minute read]
I’ve never faked it a la “Sally” in the iconic scene from the film When Harry Met Sally. It wouldn’t work – I’m not that good an actress. But I have pretended I was getting more pleasure out of sex than was actually true.
I’ve written posts about my early discoveries of self pleasure, and I was pretty proficient at getting myself off and my orgasms were very satisfying, even though they were from external stimulation and did not include penetration.
My Mother had warned me that my first sexual forays might not live up to expectations, and she was spot on! My first time was high excitement closely followed by an ache like I’d been punched, to describe it as disappointing would be an understatement. The excitement didn’t go away though, and I couldn’t wait to try it again. [That’s got to be nature, for the survival of the species!]
The guy I lost my virginity to was stupid and arrogant, and we didn’t last long. Our sex made me feel horny but not satisfied, but I don’t think he worried whether I’d climaxed, hence no need to fake it.
The next guy was Mr big shot. We’d both started at college and I was just a notch on his headboard. He was hung like a horse, to the point that I worried could I accommodate him? Being big, why would he learn foreplay or what women want? I was left unsatisfied every time, not that he noticed.
My third partner & I were together for several years. He was patient and generous and we shared many firsts. When he’d had a few drinks the subsequent sex might require me to fake it. Sometimes to get it over with ; other times because he hadn’t given us the time for foreplay. I knew myself well enough, I wouldn’t climax from penetration only.
Fast forward to ‘Hamish’ who was young and entitled, he needed to learn foreplay and get in tune with what a woman wants (read the serial). The trouble with getting me very aroused but not climaxing, is that the frustration gives me a headache.
I had a 1 night stand. This guy was brash and arrogant. We’d flirted with each other for several days, amongst a crowd of friends. It peaked at a party. We sneaked off early, but separately so our friends wouldn’t know we left together.
When we got to his place it was like sexy show and tell. I’d do one trick, he’d show me another. We were peacocking our sexual antics. The condom he was wearing was numbing things for me. In a desperate attempt to get our coupling over with, I faked it. I huffed and puffed and groaned. Imagining himself to be a stud, I am sure he believed that I saw stars.
We are honest, my OH and I, we work through our problems. Sometimes I don’t cum, occasionally he doesn’t. I prefer to admit that I am not in the mood. – faking seems like dishonesty and we don’t give that house room.
If he has to ask me, “Did you cum?”
I might answer “I think so, it was one of those low level ripple ones.”
Alternatively I’d say “No, but for a while I thought I might as the foreplay was really good.”
I’ve learned the near misses work quite effectively as edging. So there’s always next time.
Image courtesy of Pixabay
Post shared to fit with the Faking It prompt for #Food4thoughtFriday