by Lynne, Donya
“And the sex?”
She grins like she never thought sex could be so good. “The sex has gotten even better.” Her cheeks flush pink as a girlish smile breaks over her face. “He can make me squirt.”
I arch one brow, impressed. “Really?”
She nods, shyly biting her bottom lip. “And Abby was right. It’s the best orgasm I’ve ever had.” She pulls in a full, exuberant breath, then lets it out like she’s the luckiest woman in the world. “I think it’s safe to say my dry spell is finally over.”
“Quite literally,” I say, making her laugh.
“Yeah, literally.” She rolls her eyes, tipping her head back like she hadn’t even realized her play on words. “Because when he makes me squirt, it’s definitely not dry.”
We both laugh at that.
“You’ve found your prince then?” I say, tucking my pen away, done taking notes.
“Maybe. We’ll see.”
I almost feel like Emma and I are old friends talking about hot guys over a glass of wine after Pilates class. A grown-up version of slumber-party girl talk over hot cocoa. She’s sweet and relatable like that.
Her green eyes dance as she continues. “He was finally able to give me an orgasm during missionary, too, but our favorite position is still where I’m on top facing his feet. That’s when I squirt. But even if I don’t, I come every time we have sex in that position.” Then her eyes sparkle like she’s got even better news. “But there’s this other position we’ve discovered that’s almost as good.” She gestures with her arms as she tries to describe it. “I lie on my back with a pillow under my butt, and he lifts my legs so they’re straight up in the air. Then he sort of”—she makes an X with her index fingers—“crosses them in front of him and leans forward, raising my hips up even farther off the bed. And it’s just”—her eyes roll back like she just wrapped her mouth around a square of Belgian chocolate—“so good.” She sighs. “Theo loves this position because crossing my legs like that squeezes him, providing more friction. I love it because it makes me tighter, and I feel everything at a much stronger intensity, especially when the arch of his cock hits my G-spot. Just . . . wow.” She slowly shakes her head like she can’t believe sex could be so good. “I don’t think I’ll ever be satisfied with a straight penis again after being with Theo.”
“Ah yes, that’s right, Theo has a curved erection,” I say. “Which reminds me . . .” I set down my legal pad, then go to the file cabinet behind my desk. Opening the second drawer, I riffle through the files until I find what I’m looking for. “Here.” I pull out a set of stapled sheets, push the drawer closed, and round my desk, holding the packet toward her. “I think you’ll find this helpful.”
Emma flips through the pages, grinning when she reaches the back of page three. She looks up at me and turns the packet around, pointing at the picture at the top of the page. “This is Theo.” It’s an illustrated drawing of an erection with a downward curve. Right below it is another illustration of a couple having sex in reverse cowgirl, their favorite position.
The packet I’ve given her is basically a mini reference manual of sexual positions sorted by penis type. There’s curved downward, curved upward, C-shaped, long and skinny, short and thick, hammerhead penises where the head is thicker than the base, conical where the base is thicker than the head . . . all in all, the packet describes twenty types of erections and the sex positions that work best for each one.
And, as she has already discovered, reverse cowgirl is one of a handful of positions that works well for a downward curving erection.
“Have you ever tried basic doggy style?” I ask, nodding toward one of the other pics on the page. “Or modified doggy style?” I point to the one below it.
She nibbles on her thumbnail, studying the two pictures with interest. “Actually, no. We like reverse cowgirl and our own versions of missionary so much that we haven’t gotten around to doggy style yet.”
I lean back and cross my legs. “Well, if you’re ever looking to spice things up, give them a try. I think you’ll find them just as exciting as reverse cowgirl. Maybe even more exciting.”
Her cheeks fill with color, then she folds the packet and slides it into her purse. “It’s funny.”
“What is?”
“Men are so focused on size. You know, ‘size matters,’ that old schtick. For men, it’s all about who has the biggest dick. But, really, it’s not. At least, not to women. Not to me.”
“Mm-hmm.” I like watching her work this out, like she’s putting the puzzle together all on her own.
“Theo isn’t the biggest man I’ve had sex with. In fact, his erection is probably about average, and for a man as tall as Theo, average looks a little small on him.”
I smile at her phrasing.
“But, you know”—she takes a breath and angles her head fondly—“maybe bigger is better for a man, but for a woman, size matters for a whole other reason.”
“What reason is that?”
“A lot of women don’t necessarily want a big man, because . . . well. . . to begin with, that shit hurts.”
I laugh. “True.” I think back to Katherine Clayton-James and how she was the rare exception who indeed needed bigger. The bigger the better for her. But Katherine had been the exception. Most women can’t handle erections as big as Katherine needs them to be.
“What women really want,” Emma says, “is a man who knows how to use what he’s got.” She waves her hand dismissively in front of her. “Who cares how big it is? If he doesn’t know how to use it, it’s just a waste.” Her eyes light up with something resembling love. “Theo knows how to use it.” She pats her purse as if indicating the packet I gave her. “I don’t know if he knows about cock shapes and positions and all that, but he has definitely learned what works for him, unlike other men I’ve dated, who must have thought one size fits all no matter the position.”
“Most men don’t take the time to learn what works best for their anatomy,” I say. “They have a more one-dimensional approach: A goes into B, and after a lot of in and out, he gets to feel good. And if the woman’s lucky enough, she gets to feel good too. A large percentage of men don’t realize they have more control over a woman’s pleasure than they give themselves credit for.” I shrug, lifting one hand, palm up. “And since most women have been raised under at least some sexual repression, they don’t know any better, either, or don’t think to question the man’s lead. They think the man has more control than a woman does over whether or not she comes, so they don’t take a more active role in learning what makes them feel good, or in telling men what they need in the bedroom.”
I’m hoping that after reading my books, more women realize that they don’t have to play follow the leader in the bedroom and will feel more empowered to take control of their own sexuality.
“They don’t know what they’re missing,” Emma says with refreshing playfulness. “Maybe your book will change that.”
I laugh. “I was just thinking that.”
I finish the interview, then wish Emma good luck with Theo, reminding her I’ll be calling in a few months for a follow-up as she heads out. Then I return to my office and take a moment to review my notes.
I can’t help smiling. I think better times are ahead for women. The women’s liberation movement of the sixties and seventies was only the beginning. I believe women are about to come into their own as a collective in a way never before seen in recorded history, and with each woman I interview for this project, I become more convinced of that.
Until now, women have been pretty little flowers, delicate and forbidden to have a voice of their own, to be seen and put on display when they’re young, then thrown out when aged and withered. No more. Whether she’s a young and supple bud or a fully opened rose beginning to lose its petals, every flower has beauty and purpose. And every rose, no matter its age, is worthy of pleasure.
Watch out world, forbidden flowers of all shapes, sizes, and maturity are comin
g. And they will be heard.
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Next up in Forbidden Flowers: Show and Tell
When mysteriously sexy Warren misdialed overly structured Jenna’s number late one Friday night, neither could have imagined where that one awkward phone call would lead. Now Jenna finds herself falling head over heels in lust with a man she’s never met. But when a provocative, chance meeting brings them together, will she accept his offer to take things further, or will she balk when she hears his terms: if she wants to play in his world, he gives the orders . . . and she obeys. One-click Show and Tell now.
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