Apr 212012

Or rather….my husband has. For the first decade of our sex life his penis alone managed to hit my g-spot over and over during sex to varying degrees of bliss. In more recent years he and I have done more exploring both with his fingers and both of us using toys. I never doubted my husband’s ability to locate my g-spot and stimulate the hell out of it; combining his skill in the last few years with a vibrator on my clitoris gave me intense orgasms which would be immediately followed up with vaginal sex that was then even more pleasurable for me since the g-spot would be even more sensitive and swollen after a clitoral orgasm.

But the last few times we’ve fucked he suddenly changed his fingering technique and he knew right away that I approved. It was more intense and amazing as evidenced by my even louder moans and screams and gibberish. His manipulations have frequently left me with the sort of orgasm that jacks up all the right hormones and chemistry to leave me euphoric (and sometimes to the point of uncontrollable giggling right after). But this? All I could say (after I came down from the breathless high) was: What the FUCK did you just do there because holy crap it was amazing.

Every woman’s g-spot is a little different, like a snowflake sort of. And just like we all like different types of clitoral stimulation, we all like different types of g-spot stimulation. So what works for me might not be a euphoric nirvana trip for you, too. But his description of his new technique and what he’s feeling has left me certain that the g-spot is not a “spot”, it is not a zone, it is more than just a differently-textured spongy spot of sensitive tissue in the vaginal wall. Whatever he’s hitting there is a thing, an object, and 3-D…. much like the prostate.

The first time he tried his new trick he “had it” for a bit and then “lost it”1. Both g-spot massage techniques were pleasurable and aided in me achieving a blended orgasm fairly quickly but this new, intense treatment was just cranking up the pleasurable sensation to HOLY SHIT FUCK OMG ITS AWESOME^Y#~%@^(*^. I cannot duplicate what he’s done via my love, the Pure Wand. If I were smaller of body and longer of arm and generally more flexible perhaps this is something I would have discovered on my own but I think his position lends him a more unique angle of assault. For me personally my G-spot is right next to my pubic bone, therefore fairly shallow in the vaginal canal. He can use this location to a distinct advantage now2 by changing his digital manipulation from a 3-finger massage (which I loved because it provided both a filling sensation and spot stimulation) to a 1-finger massage aided on the sides by 2 other fingers. He’s extending his middle finger to do more precision stimulation right on the g-spot. He’s going above and beyond that “come hither” motion to a more twisting, side-to-side-and-all-around intense high-pressure attack. I’ve used words that sound harsh like assault and attack but that is because this is no slow and easy massage; this is an intense treatment but in the most awesomely pleasurable way. He does this because he knows I can take it and I like it, but I wouldn’t recommend that every person try this on their g-spot-owning partner without a build-up and knowledge in existence that the person enjoys “rough” sex and intense stimulation.

Perhaps something else that is adding to this newly awesome mix is that I’m using a vibrator that doesn’t overpower the g-spot stimulation sensations. In the past when I’ve used the Wahl or the Hitachi with the Pure Wand I almost couldn’t really feel the g-spot stimulation. I knew it was going on because the pleasure factor had tripled but I could only discern clitoral stimulation. The balance has shifted a bit now that I’ve started using my We-Vibe Salsa on my clit while he’s doing this. Yes, it is a powerful and intense vibrator but it’s not as overwhelmingly intense as the big, electric massagers. The deep-tissue rumbly factor to the We-Vibe Salsa hits the external clitoris and the internal portion of the clitoris, while his fingers are ramping the g-spot stimulation up to 11 and probably also getting a bit of the internal legs of the clitoris which leads to me floating on a motherfucking rollercoaster climbing cloud of things beyond words. I truly can’t even come up with the words, that’s what it’s all like.

Don’t be afraid to try new things and go a little outside of your box. This g-spot thing might be hard to find since it can’t be mapped, but believe me it is real and with time, exploration, a good clitoral orgasm and a willing set of fingers and/or dildos you CAN find it. Oh and no, this new technique didn’t make me squirt. I don’t really give a crap about squirting anymore since it doesn’t correlate at all to the intensity of my orgasm. It’s not a goal, it’s not a thought to us, it’s not a checkbox on the list. And there is no “right” or “wrong” way to achieve orgasm or stimulate your clitoris or g-spot – you do whatever feels good to you.




  1. Literally, the “object” he had found had moved slightly inside my body
  2. because his finger is massaging it from the front and then another side of it is receiving pressure from my pubic bone
May 142010

It’s no secret that I don’t possess “normal” brain chemistry. If you want to label it, the best label is ADD-Inattentive with a side-order of fibromyalgia (body disease but also affects the brain and can act like ADD) and an occassional helping of some other as-yet-unnamed disorder. I’m not easy to treat with meds. I’m a puzzle and doctors don’t usually want to spend the time on me. I’m not responsive or overly responsive to many meds, thanks to the fibromyalgia. And so, since brain chemistry affects sex drive, mine is like a rollercoaster.

But my husband….he’s also got a dopamine-deficiency disorder. Which exact label, we’re not sure. His acts different than mine and gets treated differently from mine. He’s more susceptible to outside sources affecting his chemistry levels….from food/sugar/caffeine to emotional stresses and lack of sleep.

It’s not easy being a couple. I think he has more patience than me, because I’m losing mine. Back in December he had a big ole upswing and was better than he’d been in years. Our relationship was great, I was pleasantly surprised to be able to rely on him for husbandly duties like coming with me to visit my mother. And sex. It was more often, and better. But then a month or two later, his shitty job and his difficult programming class started to get the better of him. And it’s gone downhill. Everything.

I’m walking on eggshells. Silently losing patience and, for brief moments, respect. But then I remember that he can’t control his brain chemistry any more than I can. But then I have moments of “But *I* work and *I* go out shopping and *I* do XYZ…..why can’t HE??” and the cycle starts all over again. And the health of us individually is failing, but also the health of our relationship. I can’t even recall when we last had sex; it might be a month or two months, I’m not sure any more. We spend our evenings in different rooms of the house. He babbles on about hockey because it’s one of very few outside sources that stimulate his adrenaline and dopamine in a good way. He babbles and I tune out because as much as I want to care about something he likes, I just can’t care about hockey, lol.

I get advice but it doesn’t help because only he and I can figure us out and what to do for us. Nothing can be forced or wrenched into place. It’s true, I’m losing my patience with him and the state of things. But I’m only human…right? It doesn’t make me feel any better though about losing my temper and patience and blowing up. It doesn’t make me miss “us” any less.

If you’ve gone through this, how did you come out the other side in tact?

Jan 082010

So with my new, bionic arm I apparently took my pain-free status for granted, and over-used it. “Hey! I can pick up 2 containers of milk with one hand!” sort of over-use. Starting yesterday my whole arm started bothering me. Ache and pain and nerve pain and muscle fatigue…by the time I got home from work I was miserable. So instead of hockey, he laid with me in bed. Massaging my arm and gladly offering up something for me to squeeze – I don’t know what it is about this sort of pain/irritation/tension but when I stretch the muscle it’s like scratching an itch. So stretching, pulling, and gripping a squeezie ball are all lovely things. Instead of a squeezie ball though…..I used his cock (don’t worry, due to the on-going elbow problems my grip with that hand is pretty weak). Poor guy, he got so teased ;)

When he has muscle soreness and bad pain, sometimes we end up focusing “treatment” on his cock. An extended foreplay session does many things for him – redirects blood flow from the irritated muscles; overwhelms his brain with pleasure signals; increases his dopamine**. Even though I wasn’t really aroused, I agreed to let him try that trick on me. He brought out the Hitachi and after we determined that I hated the way it felt on my arm, it traveled south for his original idea.

Soon though it became clear to me that the Hitachi wasn’t going to get me off.

I know.


Not even with the added stimulation of a cock against my g-spot.

So I had him use one of my newest toys, the Eroscillator. It took some direction to adjust his style – unlike the Hitachi, the Eroscillator can’t be used to apply pressure. The more pressure, the less it oscillates. And while I was indeed enjoying the sensation, and feeling close at some points, it wasn’t working out. He, however, was enjoying my eye-rolling bed-writhing desperation.

He had me on my back and him in the somewhat-sitting up position, leaned back so that I could get the vibrator to my clit. At first I thought he didn’t understand what I meant, because he wasn’t sitting up straight enough to give me enough room to manipulate and position the Eroscillator. We couldn’t achieve that perfect angle of penetration in which he hits my g-spot so wonderfully but where I can also have a vibe on my clit…so, we gave up yet again. He was so stimulated that he couldn’t stand much more and so the Eroscillator was tossed aside as he pounded my cunt, working for his orgasm.

My turn again! Attempt 3 had me reaching for my Climax Twist vibrator, and I instructed him to grab another one of my new toys, the Nobessence Seduction dildo. The Climax provided that gorgeous, low rumbly vibrations and wasn’t overkill. The Seduction massaged my g-spot so perfectly. As I begged “faster” “harder” “more!” I felt my orgasm come on, a mere minute or two after we began with this combination. A thunderous orgasm overtook me as he kept up with the dildo and I with the Climax for the first big wave.

Oh sweet jesus that was good. If I hear one more “scientific study” saying the g-spot doesn’t exist, I’ll do very bad things. I know damn well I have a g-spot and I know how to use it. That combination of stimulation – that blended orgasm – it’s something so intense that my recovery reaction is a bit……


I laugh.

Not just a giggle for half a minute….

Picture a combination of the scene in Willy Wonky and the Chocolate Factory (the old one) when Grandpa and Charlie are floating and laughing, and the scene in Mary Poppins when they’re all floating and laughing (“I Love to Laugh!). That was me. Tears running down my face, laughing like I couldn’t stop…big and loud and infectious. For like… 10 minutes. I don’t understand it; it’s not a common reaction. Except I wasn’t physically floating. Woulda been cool though!

In between my laughing fits he asked me how my arm felt. My response was a dopey “What arm? I have an arm?” In the end though something in the whole of the evening helped because I no longer felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin from the anxiety of the muscle tension and pain, and it did indeed hurt a little less. Hey! I found a new physical therapy routine!

Oh, the cruel evil twist?

As he was in that sitting-up position and I’m thinking to myself “why isn’t this working like it does in porn??” he was also thinking the same thing. He couldn’t “sit up” and get far enough back for the necessary space while also allowing for vigorous fucking. And that day we realized….that is “porn sex” and not to be attempted by 30-something amateurs. Poor thing is limping around today with a groin pull/ache that hurts somethin awful. At first he was embarrassed to admit that, until I reminded him that it’s something to be proud of.

But I don’t think we’ll be using medicinal sex for it!! Poor guy needs to rest up.

*Definition of Panacea

**Besides the sheer pleasure you get from having an orgasm, the body takes it a step further by enhancing the endorphins and other hormones that elevate the mood. The chemical Oxytocin is a natural opiate that is released during sex and becomes quite copious during an orgasm. It is a powerful pain reliever and is compared to morphine. It breaks down like this: more sex – less pain.Woohoo!

Jan 032010

I have this hot pink T-shirt that I used to love, but it’s now an “at-home” only shirt. No longer can it be worn with my most comfortable summer skirt; no, a few someones put it on its path to ruin. Cheap material that led to a few teensy bitty holes in bad spots, combined with a red nail polish accident have this shirt at one level above rags.

But I wear it now and then, around the house or to bed. Hub always loves it, mostly because the neckline is stretched out and he gets big eyefuls of cleavage. He loves waking up in the morning when I sleep in it.

Today though he reminded me of another reason he loves this shirt.

He still remembers how hard he fucked me when I came home from a “date” with a still-damp cum stain gracing the front of it, last summer.

Sep 062009

I think that my G-spot has been trying to pick up the slack from my clit.

Meaning, despite having a clit o’steel, my G-spot is mightily responsive now that I know her exact address. She was an elusive bugger, akin to locating Platform 9 3/4. Thanks to my Pure Wand though we’re now very friendly neighbors.

I’m sure I’ve mentioned that my clit o’steel leads to another sad occurrence: clitoral orgasm from oral sex is nigh on impossible. “Close but no cigar” is the usual outcome. Thankfully my hubby has no issues with letting a vibrator finish me off.

Last night was no different in that regard but on the plus side he has become as well acquainted with my G-spot as Mr. Pure Wand has. The women whose orgasms aren’t falling like ripe apples will know what I mean when I say that he had me in such a frenzy that my body was quite literally climbing for release. My legs writhing, my pelvis rocking and humping his hand and mouth; my arms reaching for unseen extra partners and my hands grasping empty air or bunching up the bedsheets; my torso arching up off of the bed. I must have looked like a woman possessed and that’s just what I felt like.

Something else amazing was happening as I was pleading with my body to tip over that edge of clitoral orgasm (in one moment of delusional insanity I was picturing that awful yodeling Swiss plastic man from this one Price is Right game except this time I wanted him to topple off the mountain), my G-spot took the wheel and holy wow. I wanted to ask him how many fingers he was pumping inside of me but I couldn’t form words. Like the angel and the devil on your shoulders my mind and body alternately begged for clitoral orgasm and reveled in the G-spot orgasm. I finally brushed off the devil representing my clit and rode out the G-spot waves. To his credit he didn’t stop his fingers and hand until I closed my thighs and silently let him off duty.

Still unable to speak, he carefully climbed up and started fucking me. I say carefully because the fibromyalgia can even affect sex when my whole body is extra-tender to the touch – this even included my cunt. There had been an underlying achy pain as he was thrusting his fingers inside of me but the pleasure greatly outnumbered it. Hubby came after a few minutes, which is good because my G-spot couldn’t take any more pleasure. He had commented prior to the sex that I was a lot wetter than usual; I could tell as he was fucking me that it wasn’t my usual wetness – thinner and more slippery than silky.

Despite all that goodness my clit was still thumping for attention so I asked him to hand me the Hitachi. I spread myself open so that the head of the Hitachi had more direct contact with the pelvic bone buried under flesh just to the right of my clit – this placement allows the vibrations to spread to the legs of my clitoris, the portion that’s internal. When I turned it on, I knew then that I had indeed squirted/gushed earlier. There was so much fluid and wetness pooling in between my plump outter labia that the vibrations of the Hitachi sounded like a mini motorboat  churning in the water. It’s an obscene sound, no hiding how wet I am. He helped me along after a few frustrating moments of “almost there” and his fingers again felt fatter and larger than normal. I likely woke up the neighbors with that orgasm.

The details of downtime moments are lost to the haze of orgasm recovery but I can recall us laying there, panting, him asking me if I’m alright and I just laughed insanely. I recall asking him if he could tell when I gushed while his fingers were in me and he said:

“I have no idea, my hand was numb.”

I was silent for a few seconds and then apologized while laughing. And then thanked him while giggling.

Oh and I finally asked him how many fingers he had used. I fully expected him to say 4, with the way it felt. But no, it was only 3. Perhaps it felt like more because of the flare-up. I’m simultaneously looking forward to and doubting a future attempt at fisting. Can he? But oh it might feel awesome! My cunt says “it might hurt!” but my G-spot says “I don’t fuckin care, bitch!”.

Don’t know what yodeler I’m referring to? It’s ok, I know my brain doesn’t always make sense. Here, watch this short Price is Right clip and you’ll know.