Saturday, April 23, 2011


I am a FIRM believer that a woman should NEVER fake an orgasm.  When we are sharing our sexuality with a partner it is only through vulnerability, honesty, courage, and faith that our ultimate sexual and human satisfaction can be achieved.  This isn't necessarily a very easy thing -- especially for a woman, where most of our intense pleasure happens on the inside.

Having made my declarative statement, I admit to betraying my own creed a handful of times in my early years.   Remembering a time I couldn't get "unstuck" in the plateau phase of arousal, I realized I was too self conscious of my body and trying to "perform" for my partner.  The following is an old journal entry of mine answering the question -- why did I just do that?

Dear Passing Lover,

Feeling you between my legs last night was strangely exciting in the most incredible intensity of the word. Under normal unattached and unmedicated circumstances, I would have been able to truly experience the quick and intense orgasm which has come quite naturally to me since the age of thirteen. Last night though, I ultimately felt compelled to fake that part with you. I only faked it because I felt myself at the height of pleasure and vulnerability that I would allow myself to feel with a stranger like you. I may have also been limited due to the cocktail of pharmacology swimming through my own physiology. I was so close and simply wanted to give you credit for a job well done. The fact that I warmed up to you to the point of getting hot enough to carry off a fake orgasm should be a compliment enough, don't you think?

I mean, I eventually brought myself there - after we parted and without anyone else in the room - so the fact I was relying upon my remembrance of our encounter to finish it up should count for something. After you left I could still smell your scent all over my body including that good old fashioned smell of clandestine seamen which somehow soaked into my tucked up bra cups after you came all over my exposed tits. I can still sense it while I write this and I cannot help but smile. The fact that I may not ever feel this again, or at least for a long while, makes it that much more sweet.

So please don't be disappointed with my honesty. Take it as a compliment that I chose not to give up the 20% remaining focus I had which was sucking in my tummy, arching my back, and keeping me in the "perfect porn pose" for your visual pleasure. Were I to let that remaining focus go in order to bring me over the edge - I may not have ever come back. And that would have ruined everything.


The Faker

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