Clit Truth

Hello Everyone…

My Name Is Rubyyy Jones

And I Fake Orgasms…

.   .   .

Yes, it’s true…

Before my sexual awakening, this time last year, I would have admitted to being a chronic clit orgasm faker. Writing about this and thinking back has made me realize I also need to share with my Masturbation Journey with you, will write soon, but what you need to know is the kind of masturbation I practiced from childhood till about twenty-four was producing tension orgasms:

Tension orgasms: Direct genital rubbing and muscle tension, get most of us through puberty, into young adulthood, and, for some, through the rest of our lives. Tension orgasms rely on leg and buttock muscles being squeezed tight, with the rest of the body held fairly rigid. While holding the breath, a fast motion is used on the clitoris or penis for a few moments or minutes until orgasm explodes in a quick burst…

Betty Dodson PhD ‘Orgasms For Two’ pg 71 Harmony Books, 2002

I continued to masturbate this way as I got older because a) I could have multiple, hard orgasms, b) I just thought that was the way I masturbated, that I was simply different c) I didn’t know how my personal practice would translate in to partner sex. Like many uninformed average kids, raised on sorta romance and surrounded by rising divorce rates, liberal conservatives and intrinsic sexism, I figured orgasms in sex just happened. I learned from what I could glean from movies, books and pithy school sex ed, that the man would put his penis inside me, after some kissing and such, and he would thrust hard and fast and I would come and he would come and if we were doing it right we’d both come hard together, gasping and heaving in a sweaty heap…

Sighhh *shakes head* Lack of sex education is just suuuch a society disservice, anywayyy, I digress…

My first sexual partner was Ferenc ( T Dark Ages ) and it was with him that I began lying to myself about my sensual happiness, about my worth. The first orgasm I faked was by accident but was followed by one of the few times in my life I have truly felt afraid. I had taken a moment to speak to Ferenc, as delicately as I could, to say: although I really loved having sex with him, being with him, that I wanted to try and come too; I knew enough about sex to know I wasn’t coming. Shortly there after we were in the same position we always were, doing the same things we always did but with his new ego fueled mission: he was going to fuck me hard enough that I would come, he would make me.

I had let out a cry after some particularly unfeeling throttling and he stopped cold, he bent his elbows so his face was hovering just above my right cheek. I was paralyzed, head turned, as I stared at his blue wall with the bookshelf, his toys and tv, my left cheek getting wetter on the pillowcase, his voice came out deep, growling, entitled ‘And what was that?…’ As he loomed over me I lied for the first time, in a little girl whisper ‘I came…I’ve come’. I never did have an orgasm with Ferenc, not even close, but I continued to fake and get better at faking because I was ‘in love’ with him. Because it made him happy, made him feel accomplished and I lived to boost him and give myself away. With him and several other men I faked with, in a way I’m happy; they didn’t deserve to be in my orgasmic space anyway.

With Marshall I didn’t fake but I also didn’t come and soon we just didn’t have any sex at all. I started to read books like Becoming Orgasmic (by Julia R. Heiman, Leslie Lo Piccolo and Joseph Lopiccolo) and after I ended things with him and moved on to true sexual discovery, Sex For One (by Betty Dodson). In my time of celibacy, I learned about the clit, a little sweet button that had, for many reasons, been pretty much ignored in all the previous penetrative sex I’d had. I learned about my wants, how I liked to be touched, how I looked while being touched; this was when I began my real love affair with my vulva and with me. I learned how to come on my back with my legs wide, with my breath rushing in and out of body; I learned how to come.

The Universe soon brought me Samurai and, over Skype, I shared my first orgasm with another and later, when we met in person (just about this time last year) I shared my first orgasm with a lover in the flesh. In between these comes, I was with Beaux, a little test for me on what I learned and I faked every single orgasm I had with him. I was still afraid to let go like that, to ask for what I wanted, to be honest and I though I thought I ‘loved’ him, I didn’t trust Beaux. Samurai healed me and freed me from some of the fear that I held, he loved, appreciated me into opening and blossoming for and with him. I loved him and he earned and deserved my love and my orgasm.

After Samurai, I moved into a more honest space with my comes, I fucked men who were lovely, gentle and enthusiastic; I came when I wanted to and didn’t when I didn’t. I faked several times with BBB near the end, when things began to feel disconnected for me; this wasn’t fair, I wasn’t being honest again and again I was glossing over the importance of my own orgasm, my own satisfaction and the physical love that we were working to create together. With Gallo, I stepped it up, I learned to be more of a director, a teacher; I gave homework, I gave sexy orders, I came. I’d thought that was the end.

With Flynt I have, have had orgasms like I never knew I was capable of, mostly from deep in my yoni, gushing, connected, spinning comes that pulled me out of my body, that elevated us and our connection; I don’t know how to fake orgasms like that. He’s a G spot fan and I’m certainly not complaining about this preference; I have had clit orgasms with Flynt too but it started again, I hid from my clit. I hid because I didn’t care to come like that if I could overflow instead, I hid because I’m still learning to voice just what I want, I hid out of fearful habit. I decided a few weeks before I really got to the core, that I wouldn’t fake, that I would return to truth. Our focus on deep inside, our changing connection, my residual fear stopped me, yanked me out of the rising and I couldn’t come any longer from my clit. We tried, he tried and although I could come from the lovely buzz of a toy, fingers are important to come with too and I couldn’t. I cried that it was ‘broken’.

Last week I was struggling with trust, with honesty with Flynt, I was feeling he wasn’t trust worthy, that he wasn’t being up front with me about various things and I felt very confused and upset. Taking a lesson out of Gay & Kathlyn Hendricks‘ book, I released blame and I turned the tables on myself; was there some reason Flynt should not trust me? Was there something I was being dishonest about? Withholding? And there it was, a kernel of truth about the size of my cherished clitoris, I was lying to him, I was being dishonest with him and with myself. I allowed the truth to fill me and I showed him respect but telling him too.

I believe this to be, and want this to be, the end of my (clit) orgasm fear and after writing this, sharing my journey, I feel strengthened and released.

Thank Youuu.

I’ve talked with a few ladies about this and everyone has a different opinion on the ‘to fake or not to fake question’ and I really feel no judgment on anyone’s choice. For me I don’t want to fake because I spent so long doing it. I don’t want to fake because I want live my entire life in light and love. I don’t want to fake because I fucking love to come. I don’t want to fake because as a woman who has the freedom to come in whatever way she chooses I feel like it is my duty to come; for every women whose clit has been carved from her flesh, for every woman who dies an orgasmic virgin, for every woman turns to her man to complete her, to move her, so she’s can’t move on. I must come wholeheartedly.

My Name Is Rubyyy Jones And I Faked Orgasms.

Love Lust & Light

♥
R
Rubyyy Jones

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