-“Doctor… when we make love, he’s the only one reaching a climax—not fair.”
Almost all the physicians—as well as their hairdressers—have at one time or the other heard that complaint from some sexually unsatisfied ladies that we were treating.
One of the most perplexing things we found when we arrived in the USA in 1982 is the evident, contradictory, sometimes even baffling disconnect between the open diffusion and distribution of pornography with the prudish reluctance to maturely discuss about our sex lives. In New York you could gorge on tons of sexual displays in “Peepland” of Times Square but common issues of human sexuality were carefully wrapped in secrecy. And the problem of female insatisfaction did not even register in the radar screen. It seems that other modern societies like Australia share the same social challenges.
In a recent study published in the “Journal of Sex and Marital Therapy” researchers of the Kinsey Institute interviewed more than a thousand heterosexual Australians between the ages of 18 up to 94 years old who dared to talk openly about what they usually hide below the bedsheets. The data showed that only 61.6% of women claimed to reach an orgasm during their sexual intercourses while 85.5% of men claimed they did. Almost 38% of the participating women said that they needed stimulation of the clitoris to reach an orgasm in 75% of the sexual encounters they had had; the investigators said that previous sexual studies did not properly address the issue of clitoral stimulation.
Ian Kerner, a sex therapist and NY Times best-selling author, published a great book titled “She comes first” where he patiently describes the female anatomy and how to safely stimulate sexual receptors all over their bodies. It is a practical tool for the modern man who cares about his partner’s pleasure. However the value of experience and good mentorship cannot be overstated.
Long, long time ago, in a country far, far away (before I became a monk of Medicine) a lady took the time to patiently teach me some anatomy lessons. With the passage of time, my memory ebbs and flows…But on a specially sunny day, some of those memories come back like a bubbly wave of sea water hitting the beach and I feel compelled to sit down to write about it. This is an excerpt from my novel “Madame D.C. Book I – Three Voyages” where I dared to write about a subject that I might not have wanted to openly discuss. Maurizio, one of my three lead characters, has been clandestinely dating a married lady called Renata who used to work as a lap dancer in a strip club.
“In the beginning, Renata allowed Maurizio to have a straight ride in the enchanting routes of her curvaceous anatomy—like in the opening stages of “Il Giro d’Italia”, the most famous Italian cross-country cycling contest.
After a few races to the finish line, it was time for the mountain techniques. Slowly yet steadily Renata wanted to teach him the secrets of how to make a woman reach the heights of erotic pleasure. The Cima Copi. Cunnilingus.
One day Renata decided to start upgrading his skills to a higher level.
-“Hold it, dear,” said she, pushing him aside when they were naked in bed.
-“What’s wrong? Don’t want to make love tonight?”
-“No, silly…Just want to start in a different way…That’s all.“
-“How about if you give me some kissing? You know where.”
-“What? Freud said that clitoral orgasms were infantile—”
-“Did he really? What the hell did Freud know about pleasure? He talked too much about women but never really listened to one…I wonder what his wife felt about his ballyhooed analysis…I’m sure she never had an orgasm.“
-“Stop it! All right… I’ll do it.”
Maurizio slowly positioned his face in front of her vulva, ready to comply.
-“All mine.” With blind bold strokes, his tongue swiped her vulva.
-“NOOO,” Renata said, pushing him aside. “You’re hurting me—get out.”
He straightened in bed. “What? Didn’t you ask for it?”
-“Of course I did…But you got to do it in a more gentle, methodical way… First you must learn the basics—bring that small mirror on the commode.”
Maurizio handed her the item. She placed it in front of her exposed vagina.
-“All right…This fatty mound is my mons pubis…See it?”
Maurizio twinkled his nose. “Yes, teacher.”
-“Pay attention now…We’re heading south …Here we have the start of the labia majora…See? The exterior is rough, hairy, the interior smooth, oily.”
During her sessions, she teaches him the secrets of feminine pleasure.
He watches. He listens. He explores her hidden, humid architecture. Soon the screaming of ‘la figa calda’— camouflaged by the lullaby of the waters—indicates that her pupil is graduating with Honours.”
What do you think? Please tell us.
Don’t leave me alone.