I am incredibly lucky that I orgasm easily, it lends itself to how greedy, how needy I can be. The first orgasm is the longest work and hardest to maintain – it is also often the weakest. All it does is feed my craving for another. My body is tenser, tighter, wanting and willing to work towards the second orgasm – which is always just on the horizon, easy to view and not hard to slide into.
The catch, of course, is that the second orgasm makes it easier to come harder and faster. And the third makes me far more greedy than the first. On and on my body goes, wanting the next – it’s not always that the subsequent ones are harder nor even better, fireworks do not suddenly explode in orgasm splendor; but the more that I orgasm, the easier it is for me to reach another one. When every nerve is sensitive and feels pleasurable, it’s a challenge to not pursue that pleasure.
It’s also why I can orgasm in such a multiple of ways: after the first one through what almost always needs to be obtained by penetration, other avenues to orgasm open up. I have come from just rubbing between my lips, from anal stimulation (or sex), from nipples, from pain like spanking, or slapping, from fist thrumming against my butt or thighs, the knuckles sinking through muscles and hitting what feels like bone.
I have orgasmed from soft sensations like feathers or sheets, from cold sensations like fans or even cold porcelain, from heat like melted wax or a hot breath pressed just right against my hot skin and brushing its way past more sensitive zones.
Teeth, something I normally don’t appreciate on myself, feel amazing as they sink into my skin at the climax. I become rougher in my pursuit of pleasure, more aggressive, my hips thrust up, I squeeze the person involved, my nails or teeth dig in to the point of marking. I beg, I plead, I become desperate to hit the next wave that is always just a sensation away. I sweat, I moan, I grunt – there is nothing sexy or coy about me at this point, I looked wrecked, flushed red and blotchy in places since I am curse to be pale – even my skin tells the tale of my madness.
I can have a moment’s respite, a person can promise to not make me come anymore, but a glance of their fingertips, a breath washing across my skin, and I am primed and pumped for the smallest touch to make me melt and meld all over again. It’s why I can seem tireless one minute in the chase of an orgasm and asleep after a moment’s respite.
I can also have after quakes of orgasms, my muscles inside so clenched that they rub against themselves and create the friction needed, or suddenly the tension releases and the relaxation of the muscles inside make me shiver in a tiny pleasurable way.
But here is why I think that I am more orgasm driven than sex driven – I don’t need sex to be in this condition. Fingers, a toy, a mouth will work just as well – and even that may just be for the first or second only as I need the penetration.
Also, I can go for months without sex or masturbation and not be bothered in the slightest, as shown during my time as a military spouse separated from my husband – it didn’t mean that I didn’t miss him or miss pleasure, but I didn’t need it, and if he wasn’t around, didn’t feel the urge to pursue an orgasm (only exception was again when I was ovulating strongly, then I masturbated for the day or two).
There is a negative to this, however; I am more vulnerable, more agreeable, less verbal, less rational and more easily manipulated after multiple orgasms. It’s why orgasm play – where the goal is multiple orgasms – tends to be something I won’t engage in unless I trust the person. I also appreciate how eventually my partner(s) stop – whether they are tired or they deem I am, as with more orgasms I am less likely to be aware that I need a break, that my body is sore or dehydrated.