With the beholden help of a vibrator and internet porn, I learned that I wasn’t a woman that never orgasmed. I cannot imagine what I would have done if there hadn’t been the internet to find out. Suppress my desires or go to one of those shabby video stores and feel even guiltier? Sure, a more caring and skilled lover might also have been something… but back then, I had not found him.

Was there any orgasmic action with a man, you might wonder? Yes, once. I wasn’t pushing for it, though. Really, I so much enjoyed everything my partner and I ever did; I honestly did not mind not coming. To me, it always felt divine, and I always was in bliss. However, I could tell that my coming was important to my partner, and the one time I did, it was very, very uncomfortable. It was as if I had to come for him to make him feel like a real man; it was stressful and the least bit wild and sexy. Again, it felt like a task and duty. Back crept in thoughts that ‘men want it, and women provide it.’ Even though I enjoyed sex, it still was in the drawer labeled ‘dirty and ugly,’ and I believed that it was right to be there labeled such, to be standing in that dark corner, and I still felt guilty for having pleasure in and desires for it.

Then I met that friend of mine which I’d talked about earlier. Whichever key was turned, suddenly, I discovered the other side of sex. He was younger than me and much more open to his sexuality. He introduced me to the pure, the natural, the divine, and the so very deeply loving facets of sex. ‘Dirty’ and ‘ugly’ were a million miles away. You might smile benignly when you read this, but seriously, making love with him was letting our souls touch each other. It was no longer only physical. Certainly, our bodies touched, but so did our souls. It was as if our bodies had become our souls’ skin. It was so incredibly moving that tears welled in my eyes – wonderful, precious, happy tears. I felt as if I had gotten back my innocence. Yes, innocence! No, not in a way to make me feel like a pre-pubertal girl; absolutely not that kind of innocence.

Instead, I had found my true inner innocence, my true inner innocence in all its beauty, in all its splendor – and my tears were its christening. Now I knew what having sex, what making love could be. How natural it suddenly was, how free of expectations, how comforting and secure. How relaxing it was when a body just took over. Free of thoughts. How playful, beautiful, lustful, and wonderful this was. No rushing to anything. Simply enjoying – each moment at once. Suddenly, I was free. All my understanding and knowledge of sex – I had been so far away off, but now, a new beginning had arrived.

I did not ‘come,’ but I did much more than that: I let go.