When you’re in a relationship with another woman, there are many small envies that might develop — over thicker hair, better bone structure, smaller thighs, bigger breasts. But the one that really hangs me up is a bit more complex: orgasm envy.
If there is such a thing as an “orgasm inferiority complex,” I think I suffer from it. Just when I think I’ve reached my sexual apex, I wind up in bed with some girl that performs the sexual equivalent of an Olympic floor routine. Or, better yet, she settles all my doubts about the existence of female ejaculation.
The more women I sleep with, the more orgasms I see. The more orgasms I see, the more envious I grow. “Why can’t I do that?” I often wonder, watching a woman writhe around at the apparent stimulation of her G-spot. It’s not that I’m not having orgasms; it’s just that I don’t foam at the mouth before my head spins around twice and explodes. On more than one occasion, I’ve responded to a woman’s orgasm with a stupefied “How did you do that?” Coy laughter follows. “No,
really,” I insist. “How did you do that?”
“Most women I’ve been with female ejaculate,” one lesbian pal reported. “Why can’t I female ejaculate?! Damn it!”
Or, conversely, you have the woman worried about having too many orgasms when her partner can’t get there. “I put a limit on myself. I realize at some point I have to stop because it’s not fair,” says one orgasmically inclined woman. “And I just make sure to take care of myself when she is not around.”
I have to imagine this is strictly a lesbian affliction, whereby two women with similarly functioning parts could potentially grow envious of each other’s orgasmic capabilities. In a heterosexual relationship, a girl might be jealous of the ease at which her boyfriend climaxes. But she probably won’t be left wondering why her penis didn’t feel the same, or resort
to punishing her vibrator in an attempt to emulate a partner’s performance.
It’s terrible to admit, but sometimes I feel as if I’m performing in bed more as a lesson in how I want the favor returned rather than as a selfless act of pleasing a partner. I’m like a lesbian Bill Belichick vividly mapping out my vaginal playbook: “Okay, I want you to run down the outer labia, then go deep in the hole, and pump it fast several times.” My hope is that perhaps I’ll attain the same level of satisfaction that she did through a reciprocal technique.
Ultimately, I guess I should be happy that I’m with women who actually have orgasms, considering that up to 75 percent of women have reported faking. (Faking with another woman, by the way, is sort of like trying to fool a carnivore with Tofurkey.) And many more of my lesbian sources report of partners who are anorgasmic altogether.
Though I’m always open to sexual exploration and growth, I’m also aware of my own limitations, one of them being the tendency to roll over and conk out like a dude. So, rather than give in to the insecurity that could develop by
measuring my performance against a partner’s, I’ve learned to enjoy the pleasure vicariously as part of a
cumulative sexual experience.
And like the good Catholic girl that I am, I recognize that sometimes it really is better to give than to receive.
Jeannie Greeley is a freelance writer who’s pink with envy. Send your thoughts to jeannieg@comcast.net.
