I Tried Masturbating To Music Instead Of Porn And Had The Best Orgasm Of My Life

I hate perversions of natural beauty. That’s something Amber my pen pal, and friend for six years, once said to me in a letter addressed from Rhode Island to Jamaica. She dated a Jacob at the time, called him Jake. He was a boy who, I realized much later, is not exactly her physical type, but just the type of person she could see herself spending the rest of her life with. He made her feel confused a lot, and angry a lot, and at the time we thought this was love. Because the distended, figurative heart, wracked with woe and melodramatic feelings must not be ill and fed up of the tired old bullshit, but instead, simply, in love.

But I don’t want to talk about love. I care for it, but mostly don’t discuss it. I’d rather talk about sex. I want to talk about the natural beauty of it, and of course my rather complex relationship with the perversions that, undeniably, come packaged with it. Perversions like porn.

Amber hates porn. Which, of course, is super feasible coming from anyone who’d say I hate perversions of natural beauty. Unlike Amber, I love natural beauty and I also dig perversions. I might love hair extensions on a babe who is quite awesomely not wearing a bra. I have a thing for women who don’t own a single tube of concealer, yet their skin is mostly covered in ink. Also, I love sex, and I watch a lot of porn.

I’ve watched so much porn that as a prepubescent child I knew how to delete Internet browsing history before I discovered the existence of MySpace, which, apparently, is not that typical for a girl. While most boys learn how to bring themselves to orgasm by age 13, I know women who are 23 and will, with a huff and frown, say, “Well, I don’t really touch myself.” And I think: their vaginas must really hate them, but I guess, to be fair, it’s not so much their fault. Boys have the beautifully natural experience of waking up one day to a throbbing, capital D-dick, a glorious Member, demanding to be touched. While us girls, with our euphemistic buds, pearls, flowers and silk curtain folds have been taught that our pussies don’t talk, much less provide access to pleasure.

Now, I’m not pretending my relationship with porn isn’t a difficult one. Porn is problematic and my enjoyment of it is probably part of the problem. I also won’t bother trying to justify why I watch it by explaining that I only consume female produced porn made for women, by women, because it doesn’t hurt women, all the while whining like a vegan who isn’t just content with being vegan and saving the earth and the animals, or whatever, but also has to belabor the fact that they’re sustained by a diet made up entirely of organic kale chips that has not been harvested by human hands and have, in fact, been naturally dried to a crisp by the sun.

I simply watch a lot of porn. The details are immaterial and you’re still going to judge me. I watch a lot of porn because I think women are beautiful, and sex is glorious, and I enjoy getting off to other people getting off. I’m also into porn because I’m kind of extremely lazy. It’s much easier to consume sexual images than it is to sustain them with your imagination while trying to reach an orgasm. Watching porn is passive and diddling is active. Together the actions create the perfect harmonious balance for someone who wants to get off in less than 5 minutes and drift off to sleep on cloud 69. Sometimes I feel Avant-garde and super experimental and I try to use my imagination, but oh my goodness that takes forever long, and my brain, more often than not, just rehashes the most problematic pornographic images I’ve probably ever seen in my life, ever, and splices them with other interestingly annoying details like, what I had for breakfast or, how much I didn’t like my lunch. Which is something I should be talking to a psychiatrist about, on a couch, and not thinking about in bed, alone, while I touch myself.

I mean clearly there are a lot of things wrong with us, porn and I. Like I hate men almost as much as porn hates women and while one of those things is more of a problem than the other, it can really work against the natural harmony that supports something as beautiful as sex with myself.

So, recently, I decided to take an indefinite hiatus from porn and overtly erotic images in general. I didn’t want to see people have sex. I didn’t want to imagine people having sex. I didn’t want to read about people having sex. But I also really wanted to still have a lot of sex. So, what’s a girl to do? Well, she finds someone to have sex with, usually, but I don’t exactly have that privilege. Instead, I set out to diversify the sex life I have with myself by trying to uncover what the natural essence of sex is. Sex without perversions. Without insanely acrobatic positions, and kink, and cosplay, and girls in my area who really want to meet me, and fantasies of that Danish model I’m insanely attracted to and probably in love with, and Stoya’s O-face and Asphyxia Noir’s estimable tolerance for pain.

What I learned is not new or exceptional: Sex is, in my estimation, the physical and cognitive stimulation of the senses to a climatic end. To have sex is to feel good, continuously, until you orgasm. Porn and other overtly sexual content helps because it stimulates our senses, appealing to our cognition while we physically, lazily, drive a stick into our ignition. Erotic content is not necessary for orgasmic fulfillment because it’s not the only thing that makes us feel good. Eating pie makes me feel good, going to the beach makes me feel good, and music also makes me feel really fucking good. So for five days I replaced porn and other erotica with music. No need to ask me how because I’m about to tell you anyway.

For a week I got off with songs, a vibrator and a little lube. I completely cleared my mind of anything but the music and the results were like nothing I’d ever expect. To compare the orgasm I have when I watch porn, or have sex with other humans, to the orgasm I have when I empty my mind of everything but music and stimulate myself, is like comparing the satiation you’d feel after waiting for an hour to wolf down your favorite food, to the very deliberate consumption of a 5 course meal that has been expertly prepared by the most talented chefs and served to your liking while you lounged in your dream house, in your dream location, after having just overthrown patriarchy and racism even though moments before you were, and had been homeless, and starving, and left for dead all your life.

And while that is a mild underestimation, I’m still going to do my humanitarian part in helping you achieve such mind-blowing proportions of pleasure with the touch of your own hands, and very little else.

Here’s what you’ll need:

Time: the typical free porn video is about 8 minutes long. You scrub through the first 3 minutes. For this exercise you’ll need about 15 minutes.

Place: not public transport, playgrounds or schoolyards. Almost anywhere else.

Vibrator/Dildo/Phallic fruits or vegetables: and a bit of saran wrap if you go the latter route.

Lube: I recommend natural oil lube because you won’t be using condoms, and water based lubes dry out really easy, and it’s gross to me, and synthetic, and if my vagina was vegan and natural oil lubes were food, then the latter would be the equivalent of organic, sun dried, kale chip.

Loud speakers with your song, on repeat

Fingers might help

Intermediate to Advance knowledge of your own anatomy

What you won’t need:

Problematic images of erotica influenced by patriarchy!

Danish models!

50 Shades, of any color!

Song recommendations and personal observations:

Day One: “Sarajevo” by Max Richter

Number of replays to orgasm: 3.5

Level of orgasm: Best fucking orgasm I have ever had in my entire life. 100/10

If the perfect sexual encounter involves the right amount of foreplay and the right amount of play, then this song is the aural equivalent of that encounter. It makes me want to go to Bosnia and fall in love and cry and have lots of sex there. I would give birth to a love child and name her Freja and every time I look at her I would see the face of her father, Esteban. Or whatever hot Bosnian men are called. This is the Danish model of your dreams naked and actually in your bed begging to eat you out of songs. I could reach orgasm if my hands were bound and all I could do was sit quietly and listen to it. I made the gusset of my panties wet just thinking about it.

Day Two: “Go” by Delilah

Number of replays to orgasm: about 7

Level of orgasm: 8.9/10

So English, such a gem. Perfect because of all the heavy breathing and the sing-song quality of her voice. Also, it only took that many replays because my vibrator’s batteries died and the song started to give me a headache because it’s not typically the type of thing I’d listen to on repeat. But, you know, it was totally worth it.

Day three: “We Insist” by Zoe Keating

Number of replays to orgasm: 5

Level of orgasm: 7/10

I’ve always loved Zoe Keating as a person and artist, so I had to make a special effort not to think about her as a person or artist while listening to this song. Have you ever listened to anything by Zoe Keating? Do you like classical music? Do you love the sound of bass cello vibrating its way between your legs? Do you even lift?

Day four: Eyes on Fire by Blue Foundation

Number of replays to orgasm: 6

Level of orgasm: 8.5/10

I really wanted to try trap or dubstep or something electronic because, as genres, those are typically about inducing horniness and a lack of imagination, right? I mean, aren’t they? But apparently, anything produced by Diplo or Skrillex is pretty much a no-go. Imagine trying to get off and recalling not so nostalgic memories of all the times you laid flat on your back, or face, wishing he would get off or just COME ALREADY. That’s how my vagina and I feel about trap songs, or dubstep, or electronic music, or whatever. But this song is not trap. This song was not produced by Diplo. This song was quite hilariously included on a Twilight Official Soundtrack, which I guess makes sense, but don’t let that freak you out because even though it’s slow and there’s no temperamental bass, your orgasm will, mostly definitely, steadily emerge with toe curling, spine tingling, vibrating, grace. You’re welcome.

Day five: Assassins Tango by John Powell

Number of replays to orgasm: 4

Level of orgasm: 10/10

I haven’t even seen Mr. and Mrs. Smith, because I don’t really care, but this song is apparently on the soundtrack and it makes me feel all the right things in the right places. Once you get approximately to the 3:30 time mark, I swear—to quote the best show on TV, “sploosh.” TC mark

image – Shutterstock

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  • http://www.itmakesmestronger.com/2013/04/i-tried-masturbating-to-music-instead-of-porn-and-had-the-best-orgasm-of-my-life-3/ Only L<3Ve @ ItMakesMeStronger.com

    […] Thought Catalog » Love & Sex […]

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    Reblogged this on Cosmic Sway and commented:
    I haven’t tried this, but I might. I can relate to this author. I too, have talked to other girls in their 20’s who just don’t masturbate. I too, think that their vaginas must hate them.

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  • http://rushmiller.com/index.php/14-self-soothing-techniques-that-work-for-me/ 14 Self Soothing Techniques That Work For Me — RushBlog

    […] 13. Masturbate. This is important. So important, I’ve already published a Thought Catalog article about it. […]

  • http://danixkid.wordpress.com jbnixon

    Reblogged this on danixkid.

  • http://oyoguchan.wordpress.com oyoguchan

    Reblogged this on My Reblogs.

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