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I sat up on my elbow. “What?!”

He laughed. “It’s not exactly what you’re thinking. This place in San Francisco that trained us – well, they trained

me,

Kristin already knew how to do it – ”

“There are people who train you how to do it?!”

“Yeah, it’s this company called OneTaste. Anyway, they don’t define ‘orgasm’ the way people normally talk about it. When you say ‘orgasm,’ most people think of the male version – a steep incline up, then climax, then you fall off sharply. OneTaste says the female model of orgasm is more like rolling waves that can keep slowly going up and up and up, cresting to new heights, but never totally peaking or ending.”

My mouth was getting dry… but someplace else was getting very wet. “So the guy does what again?”

“He strokes what they call the 1 o’clock spot on the woman’s clitoris for 15 minutes.”

“And what does the girl do to the guy?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?!”

“Nope. She just lies there and lets him stroke her. Her whole thing is she’s supposed to concentrate on the feelings in her body, just like she would concentrate on her breathing if she were meditating the usual way.”

“But doesn’t she do something to get him off?!”

“Nope.”

“…so what does the guy get out of it?”

Ryan grinned. “A superpower.”

Holy SHIT.

“That sounds like a hell of a superpower.”

He laughed. “I liked it.”

“…and you did this… OMing thing with her?”

“Yeah.”

“A couple times, or…?”

“No… a lot

,

actually.”

A lot, actually.

For the first time, I was starting to get a little jealous. “…could you… do it to me?”

He smiled. “You want to?”

“Have a fifteen minute orgasm? Hm, let me think for a second – YEAH, I wouldn’t mind that.”

He laughed. “Okay, just remember, it’s not what you’re expecting. You’re probably thinking you’re going to be climaxing for fifteen minutes straight, and it’s not that at all. It’s more of a gentle, gradually increasing series of contractions.”

“Yeah, yeah – I’ll take any fifteen-minute orgasm I can get, thank you very much.”

He laughed again and got up from the bed. “Okay, I’ll be back in a second.”

I frowned. “Where are you going?”

“I need to get some lube.”

What?!

I gestured to my nether regions. “Kind of got the lubrication thing already going.”

“Trust me… you’ll want more,” he said, then walked out my bedroom door.

I lay there, a little excited, a little nervous, wondering exactly what I had gotten myself into. A company that teaches guys to give women fifteen-minute orgasms? And the guys don’t get anything out of it other than a sense of satisfaction?

What guy would

do

that?

None I’d encountered, anyway.

I kind of expected Ryan to walk back in carrying an armload of hardcore S&M equipment, or something equally freaky, but nope; when he reappeared, all he was carrying was a small glass jar and his cell phone.

“What’s that?” I asked as he got on the bed and unscrewed the cap on the jar.

“The lube.”

It looked like yellow paste and had a slightly familiar odor.

“Is that coconut?”

“Yeah. You allergic to coconut?”

“No… do you

lick

it off or something?”

He grinned. “No, they just make their lube out of coconut oil, that’s all. All-natural and organic.”

“Huh…”

He started tapping on the phone.

“…what are you doing?” I asked, then teased him, “Do you have to look up the instructions on how to do this again?”

He grinned. “No, I’m just setting the fifteen-minute timer.”

“There’s a

timer?

You’re actually going to time my orgasm?!”

“No, just the amount of time that we do it. It’s a very ritualized, standardized practice with a lot of rules.”

“Like what?”

“Well… we’re already breaking most of them, but since we just slept together, I don’t think it’s a big deal,” he said with a mischievous smile. “Normally the guy remains completely clothed, and the woman just disrobes the lower half of her body.”

“They don’t get naked?”

“This is a meditative practice,” he explained patiently, “not sex. Normally people don’t have sex before or afterwards, they just OM.”

“Huh,” I muttered. “So… what other rules?”

“Normally the guy wears gloves for safe-sex reasons.”

“You just said it wasn’t sex.”

“To eliminate any possibility of catching anything, then.”

“Oh.”

“So, anyway, I’m going to explain what I do to you before I do it, so you’ll know and be able to relax, okay?” As he talked to me, he stood up, grabbed a couple of pillows, and put them on either side of my legs. “A big part of this is getting the woman to feel safe and relaxed enough to sink into her orgasm.”

“Okay…” I agreed, not feeling very relaxed as he hit the timer on the phone.

“Okay, normally I’d be straddling you and sitting on cushions, but I think I can get a little closer considering the last hour,” he grinned as he laid next to me, but with his head even with my hips. “Now, bend your knees, butterfly your legs out, and let them rest on the pillows.”

“…really?”

“Really.”

“But… I’ll be… like, wide open.”

What I didn’t say was,

With my va-jay-jay on full display like a buffet table.

“That’s the idea,” he said. “I need to get access to your clit.”

“…okay…”

I followed his instructions and let my legs fall open, and for the first time I felt really nervous. He could see me down there –

all

of me.

“Okay, first I’m going to touch your legs and apply some grounding pressure.”

“Some what?”

“Just relax.”

He placed the palms of his hands against my thighs and began to press firmly but gently.

Mmmm.

It felt good. Every twenty seconds or so he would move his hands to another spot on my legs – my inner thighs, my knees, my calves – and press again.

I gradually began to relax. I closed my eyes and just drifted, feeling the soft pressure on my skin.

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